12. James
Chapter twelve
James
W hen I glance back to ensure Cora is keeping up, I catch her stumbling in her sky-high heels. A slight smirk pulls at my lips but I don’t slow down. If she wants to keep up with me, she’ll have to work for it. I control the pace—always.
I find the nearest boardroom and push open the door with more force than necessary, the loud bang startling the group inside. Their heads snap up in unison.
“Out. Now,” I demand, my voice low and laced with an edge that brooks no argument.
The four employees exchange tense glances, clearly sensing the volatility in the air. Without a word, they gather their laptops and papers, avoiding eye contact as they hurriedly exit the room. One or two of them shoot Cora a curious, almost sympathetic look as she pulls up behind me, slightly out of breath and flushed.
“Inside, Miss Rossi.” I hold the door open, nodding my head toward the now-empty room.
She storms past, and her scent—a tantalizing mix of vanilla and citrus—hits me, pulling Saturday night’s memories to the surface. I wrestle the urge to react, keeping my composure by a thread.
I follow her inside and close the door with a definitive click. Now that we’re alone, I let myself really look at her. Her black skirt clings to her curves in all the right places. Curves my hands know all too well. Her cream blouse offers just a hint of cleavage, enough to make me remember the way her skin felt under my fingertips, and her heels elongate her legs—legs that were wrapped around me, urging me to go deeper, not even two days ago. My cock stirs at the thought, but I grind my teeth, shoving the distraction aside. Now isn’t the time.
When I finally meet her gaze, there’s anger in her eyes. Her chest rises and falls, her breathing ragged with the strain of holding back. What the fuck does she have to be angry about?
I’m about to make her nuclear.
“You’re done here,” I declare, as I stare her down, daring her to challenge me. “Pack your shit and get out. Now.”
“What?” She sucks in a sharp breath.
Did she really think this was going to play out any other way?
“I don’t hire thieves and hookers in my company,” I snap, my composure starting to fray.
Her mouth falls open, and for a moment, she looks genuinely stunned.
“What kind of shit-show is Madame Sophia running?” I demand, my anger spilling over. “First, you steal from me. Then you find out who I am and waltz in here to do… what, exactly? Blackmail me?”
“What?!” She gasps again, her eyes wide with shock.
Or is it guilt?
“Is that all you’ve got?” I let the words hang in the air, watching her squirm under the pressure of my silence. When she doesn’t answer immediately, I arch an eyebrow. “You’ll need a better vocabulary if you want to keep working here, Miss Rossi. I’m beginning to think HR seriously dropped the ball with you.”
Her expression hardens, fury sparking in her eyes. Good. She should be furious.
Cora might think she can outsmart me, but I’ve dealt with women like her before. Whatever she wants, she isn’t going to get it. I’m no stranger to manipulation—women have tried before, but they’ve always been easy to manage. My preference for power dynamics complicates things, but my lawyer handles those situations without breaking a sweat. They typically leave with a settlement and a warning, vanishing just as quickly as they appeared. But nothing like this has ever happened at Eden, which is exactly why I pay their steep membership fees—to ensure a safe, discreet space for play.
When I realized Cora had looked through my wallet and stolen my money, I was livid. I should have reported her to Madame Sophia, but since she had no way of knowing my identity, losing a grand didn’t seem worth the hassle of an investigation. Chump change, really. But now, this is a different ball game. No one plays me.
How she found her way into my company, I don’t know. But I will find out. And when I do, she’ll learn just how dangerous it is to cross me. I’ll crush her little plan before she even knows what hit her.
Cora squares her shoulders and lifts her chin, her stance firm and unyielding as she meets my gaze head-on. The fire in her eyes dares me to try and break her.
“You can’t fire me, Mr. Hayes. Or should I call you Jonathon? Or James?” She tilts her head, a silent dare in her eyes.
I freeze, my pulse hammering in my throat.
“What did you just say?” I whisper, my voice nothing more than a low rasp. Now I know she’s playing me.
She waves a hand dismissively. “Try firing me without cause, Mr. Hayes. Let’s see how well that goes over with HR. I’m sure they’ll be fascinated to hear why their CEO is so desperate to get rid of a new hire. Care to explain it to them—or shall I?”
She waits a beat, then adds with a smirk, “Exactly. I was hired to improve the public’s perception of this company and to enhance the work culture. From what I’ve seen so far, a fish rots from the head down. And in this case, Mr. Hayes, the stench is unmistakable.” Her nose wrinkles in mock disgust as she looks me over, her disdain palpable.
Oh, the feeling is mutual, my sweet slut.
My teeth clench at the way she says “Mr. Hayes” in that condescending tone. Seems Miss Submissive isn’t as submissive as she pretended to be.
“Miss Rossi—”
“In the workplace,” she interrupts, “the correct title is Ms., not Miss. Or do you struggle with basic etiquette? Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it eventually. Let’s try again: You can call me Cora.”
She gives me a sweet, insincere smile that makes my blood boil.
How about brat? That’s a little more fitting.
The urge to bend her over my knee and spank the insolence out of her is almost overwhelming. My hand clenches at my side, and I have to force myself to stay still, to not react the way every instinct is screaming at me to.
I close the distance between us in a single, deliberate step, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet my eyes.
“Alright, Cora. I’m going to ignore the fact you just threatened me and say this only once. Whatever game you’re playing, it’s not going to work. Resign immediately, and we’ll pretend this never happened. But if you stay”—I lean in, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper—“I will make you regret it. You won’t win this war.”
I stare her down, my eyes boring into hers, making it clear I’m not to be fucked with. Grown men have crumbled under this look, but Cora holds firm, and her defiance only makes me more determined to break her.
She swallows hard, her throat bobbing as she processes my ultimatum. My eyes are drawn to the delicate line of her neck, and the urge to wrap my hand around it is almost too much to bear.
“Bring it on,” she snarls. Then, before I can respond, she spins on her heel, yanks the door open and marches out, her fury trailing behind her like a storm cloud.
Alone, I take a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me. Her scent lingers in the air, teasing me, and I tilt my head back, staring at the ceiling as if the answers I need might be written there.
“Fuck,” I grunt.
Anger still courses through me as I stalk back to my office, bypassing Portia, my executive assistant. She opens her mouth to speak, but one look at my face has her quickly shutting it. I don’t have the patience for anything right now.
Throwing open my office door, I find Dameon, my co-CEO and best friend, lounging in one of the chairs opposite my desk.
“How was town—” he begins. “Jesus, what the fuck happened to you?”
Dameon and I have been through everything together. Our grandfathers founded Hayes she’s a game to be played.
And I always play to win.