Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Adeline Paisley
Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.
Why, oh why, do you intend to fuck me over, god?
Did I do something in a past life? Did I kill puppies?
Surely it can’t just be my poor time-management skills.
No one can be this late all the time. I am running late, and this isn’t the first time and probably not the last with my record of attendance. My floor manager is going to murder me.
I am stuck in traffic, seeing a small opening as I try to pull onto the main street.
I zip out into traffic, only for the prick in the Mercedes behind me to honk his horn.
I glare at him in the rearview mirror. I have been stuck at that turn-off for ages.
Winding my window down, I flip him off before cutting into the next lane, smiling at his shocked face, like no one has ever dared flip him off before.
I pull into the parking lot. Why are there never any free spots? Probably because you are always late, Adeline, I mentally scold myself. I drive past the elevator, groaning. Only reserved parking. I am nearly tempted to park there before seeing a spot up the back, and I race toward it.
Parking my car, it scrapes the bollard. Fuck! I rush from the car only to realize I have left my heels on the passenger side footwell and have to race back to retrieve them. Grabbing them, I slam the door.
My bare feet are slapping the concrete floor toward the elevator doors that are closing. Reaching my hand out and stopping the doors from closing, I force my way in. My phone starts ringing loudly in my pocket.
The man in the elevator moves away as I reach around him, hitting the button to the ground floor of the building.
Ignoring him, I see Bella’s name pop up on my phone screen when I retrieve it.
She is the other secretary at the front counter with me.
I answer it as I bend down, trying to place those goddamn heels on my feet and do up the clasp.
“I know, I know. I am late. Has Troy been by yet?”
“Not yet, but get your ass up here, girl. You gonna make the rest of his hair fall out,” she says in a rushed, hushed voice.
I hang up, pocketing my phone. I have been working for Colten Enterprises, a well-known tech company, and barely hanging onto my job thanks to Troy.
I continue fiddling with the clasp on my shoes when I feel my ass brush against something before a hand touches my side under my blouse, making me jump as a strange static sensation runs over my side and up my ribs where his hand’s come in contact with my skin under the blouse.
A squeaking sound leaves my lips. I haven’t noticed another man in the elevator in my haste, and I am very embarrassingly brushing my ass against him, practically sitting on the man’s lap. Awkward!
“Sorry,” I squeak out, and he drops his hand back to his side, his hand clenched tightly.
“Mate,” I hear him mutter, making me turn to the man on the other side of me before realizing he must have been talking to him, and I have rudely shoved between them.
But that’s not all; I recognize him as the man I have flipped off.
Maybe he doesn’t recognize me; I pray he doesn’t.
They are clearly high up the chain with how they dress.
Clearly, both are important, but that isn’t what makes me nervous.
It’s the blood-red color of the man’s eyes I was practically sitting on as I did up my shoes.
His gaze lingers like he is looking at a piece of meat he wants to rip into.
I shrink under his gaze, wishing the elevator would hurry up.
Praying I’d get out of this elevator without them recognizing me for cutting them off and my rude hand gesture.
The red-eyed man has some serious serial-killer vibes going on.
He is gorgeous, and my god, is he tall. I am short, not midget-short, but short.
I know that. But both are towering over me by at least two feet.
His glare makes me a little uneasy as I move over toward the doors, giving him more space and trying to melt into the stainless-steel walls of the tin can we are stuck in together.
However, the other man is looking anywhere but at me: looking at the ceiling as if something interesting has captured his attention before he suddenly looks down, catching me staring.
He has dark-brown eyes, so dark they almost look black.
If it weren’t for the light, I wouldn’t have noticed the flecks of caramel in them.
His lips tug up into a smirk as he runs his eyes up and down my length, making me hop from one foot to another awkwardly.
Is it hot in here? My temperature is rising dramatically.
Turning to the other man, he is staring at me still; his red eyes are creeping me the fuck out.
I pull at the collar of my blouse, feeling like it is slowly strangling me, a bead of sweat running down the nape of my neck.
Of course, I had to become trapped in the dinosaur elevator; the thing was so goddamn slow.
I knew I should have run for the other one.
At least then, I wouldn’t have been suffering under their deadly watchful eyes.
“Nice contact lenses,” I say awkwardly, trying to break the strange tension between us.
His lips turn up in a smirk, his eyes flickering oddly, making me jump and press closer to the wall, his eyes taking on more of a predator-watching-its-prey vibe.
I step away to the side, bumping into the man with brown eyes and the gray suit.
His hand goes to my hip, holding me steady, his hand warm and also electrocuting me.
What was up with this pair of creeps? I must be seeing shit.
What was in that coffee I had this morning?
He continues to stare, though he isn’t as tense now.
Okay, then. Silent and creepy. But hot as fuck with his five o’clock shadow and dark hair.
He is wide, too. His tailored suit does nothing to hide the bulk of muscle it covers, both of them huge next to my small frame, and I feel like a deer in headlights as I am squished between them.
I step forward when I realize I am still pressed tight against the man behind me.
The heat of his body so close seeped into my back, warming me.
The door dings, and I turn around and rush out before it even opens fully, needing to escape the men I’ve been trapped with, my heart pounding as I escape their watchful gaze.
Troy is standing next to the foyer desk, arms folded over his chest, wearing an ugly green polka-dotted tie and a blue suit, his jacket impossible to button up over his potbelly.
Slowing my pace, I groan when I realize I got busted yet again, coming in late.
Bella gives me a sympathetic smile, pretending to be doing something on the computer.
“Adeline, this is the hundredth time you have been late,” Troy scolds me as I approach the desk.
“Bit dramatic there, Troy. I haven’t even worked here a hundred days yet,” I retort.
His eyes narrow. Since being here, he has made my life hell; not my fault I got the job over his niece. The man is determined to get me fired or make me quit.
His balding head and comb-over make his angry red face brighter.
He technically can’t fire me, but he is great at whining to the bosses upstairs and getting me reprimanded.
If it weren’t for Mason upstairs, I am fairly sure I would have been fired the third time I was late.
Mason is a little sweet on me; it’s cute, but he definitely isn’t my type.
I am not even sure I really had a type, but I know he isn’t it.
Troy’s gray eyes dart behind me, and he straightens up, removing his arm from the top of the desk.
I look over my shoulder and see the godlike men I’ve been trapped in the elevator with.
Both of them walk toward us with confused looks on their gorgeous faces.
They both ooze authority, Troy instantly turning nervous, which also makes me nervous.
He straightens out his suit, wiping his hands on his pants.
“Mr. Eli and Cyrus Colten, lovely to see you’re in today,” Troy says, using his brown-noser voice. Wait, that’s them. Shit. I was trapped in the elevator with the company owners, and I flipped them off. I am so fired.
I turn, forcing a smile that I knew looked pained or constipated.
“Troy, come see me upstairs,” the man with red eyes says, his tone harsh, not even glancing at me.
The other man watches me carefully before stepping forward. “What is your name?” he asks, his voice deep and rough. Great, I am definitely fired.
“Adeline, sir,” I sputter, his lips turning up in the corners before he nods, turning to the other man who is watching me again with that intimidating look on his face.
I feel like prey when he stares at me like that, like a cornered little mouse.
One thing I know for sure is that I want to stay the hell away from them.
They are intimidating; something is severely off about them, blood-chilling and spine-tingling off about them, especially the one with the red eyes.
My heart is pounding so hard that I am surprised everyone can’t hear it as they walk past. Their cold demeanors set off my anxiety and put my brain into overdrive.
“Yes, Cyrus, sir. I will be right up,” Troy stutters nervously to the man with red eyes, also clearly intimidated by him.
So, the scarier-looking one is named Cyrus. That means that the man who’s asked my name has to be Eli.
Troy turns and glares at me, pointing his finger before he groans, knowing he can’t leave the men waiting. He turns on his heel and stalks off toward the other elevator.
I let out the breath I’ve been holding before ducking behind the counter and putting my bag in the drawer.
“You were in an elevator with Cyrus and Eli Colten. Damn, those men are fine but so scary,” Bella says, fanning herself with a piece of paper dramatically, her auburn hair blowing over her shoulder.