3
EMILIA
Leann looked worried. Her eyes searching my face as I sat across from her at one of the round tables in the break room. I held my cup of coffee with both hands, nervously tapping it with my fingertips.
After leaving Dean’s office, the strangest feeling settled deep in my chest. It was a mix of realization and acceptance, and a tiny bit of shame. I couldn’t tell Leann about it. Simply because we weren’t that tight, and opening up about being desperately in love with our boss would only make things worse.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Leann asked, brows punched as she studied me. “I can tell there’s something wrong, and I’m a pretty good listener. And I also give very good advice. Well, most times. But, try me,” she said, her frown turning into a smile.
I studied her for a while and smiled tightly. “There’s just a lot going on in my life at the moment.”
Which wasn’t a lie. Maybe if I kept talking cryptically she could actually help me and give me some advice.
Leann nodded like she understood, even if she didn’t. “Work stuff?”
I shrugged. “Work. Life. Everything in between. It’s all kind of…tangled.”
She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “Well, if it helps, I’ve been through a couple of those everything’s a mess seasons. Usually means something big is about to shift.”
“Shift how?”
“Depends.”
She smiled faintly. “Sometimes the universe gives you a sign. Other times, it just drags you into the chaos until you come out the other side stronger—or at least wiser.”
I huffed a quiet laugh. “Right now, I think the universe is just dragging me.”
Leann laughed softly, then tilted her head. “Is it someone? Or…something?”
I hesitated. My fingers tightened around the cup, then loosened again. “It’s someone. But it’s complicated.”
“Oof. Complicated how? Like…off-limits complicated or messy history complicated?”
I met her gaze, and something in my expression must’ve shown her something because her voice softened. “Okay, never mind. You don’t have to answer that.”
“I wish I could,”
I said quietly, surprised at how much I meant it. “But I don’t even know what I’d say.”
Leann reached for the sugar packets and absently began stacking them, giving me a minute. “You ever think about starting fresh somewhere else?”
she asked, not looking at me. “I mean, I don’t know what you’re dealing with, but sometimes it helps to change your surroundings. Not that I want you to leave—you fit in here perfectly and I just know Dean appreciates everything you do. But maybe some change might help you.”
The thought of leaving had crossed my mind before. More than once. But every time I pictured it, I saw Dean. His hands, his voice, the way he looked at me when no one else was watching. The idea of never seeing him again made my chest ache in a way that felt both pathetic and unshakable.
“Yeah,”
I whispered. “I think about it all the time.”
Leann looked up, her expression softening again. “Then maybe that’s your sign. Or maybe…some time off could also be helpful. When’s the last time you had a vacation somewhere far away?”
I pursed my lips. “Three summers ago. I went to Japan to visit my mom’s side of the family, then flew to Ghana to visit dad’s side. It was amazing,”
I told her, smiling at the memories of spending time with family members I mostly only talked to through FaceTime.
“Gosh, that sounds wonderful. And you don’t have plans to go back and revisit?”
Leann asked, looking intrigued.
“No, not yet. Someday,”
I replied with a tight smile.
Leann’s expression softened. “Well, maybe a simple drive outside of Montreal could do the trick. You could take a week off. That sometimes helps.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Or maybe I was already too far in this mess to help myself back out.
Just then, the break room door opened and someone from accounting walked in, laughing into their phone. The spell broke. Leann reached out to squeeze my hand with a sympathetic smile.
“Hang in there, okay? I’m here if you need to talk,” she said.
“Thank you, Leann.”
She nodded and got up to rinse her mug in the sink before leaving the room. I stared at the glass wall in front of me, ignoring the man talking loudly on the phone, and wondering how much longer I could live with a heart that felt this heavy.
***
I was checking flights to Tokyo that same night, hunched over my laptop in the dim light of my apartment, still wearing my work clothes as if I hadn’t fully given myself permission to unwind. I’d been aimlessly scrolling through flight options for the past thirty minutes, not really planning anything, just…browsing. Dreaming.
A round trip to Tokyo was expensive, but not impossible. I wasn’t poor, and I did get paid more than other people I knew. I also wasn’t a big spender, but the idea of going to Tokyo felt like an escape, not a vacation. I didn’t want to spend my money on a trip just to get away from a man I’d see again a week later. It felt wrong. Irrational. But that’s exactly what I had been the past year, letting Dean take control over me whenever he wanted to.
Even thinking about him made my stomach twist.
I clicked through dates, my mind unable to resist running away, while my heart ached for me to stay and always be close to him. My cursor hovered over a week in late April of next year. I had enough vacation days stored up to disappear for a while, and God, didn’t I deserve that? After everything I’d given him—my time, my loyalty, my damn heart. I didn’t even get the decency of clarity in return. Dean didn’t do “clarity.”
He did control. He did power. He never needed to say much to get what he wanted.
The worst part was how good he was at pretending it hadn’t meant anything. In meetings, in passing, in the briefest glances where no one could tell what lived under the surface. He was stone.
Untouchable to women. Ruthless, always. And I let that version of him undo me all over again.
My mind was urging me to click on the little blue box which would lead me to putting in my card information, but an email notification caught my attention, and I looked at the corner of my screen.
From: Dean Rockwell
Subject: (no subject)
My breath caught. I froze, and I stared at his name until the breath I was holding was forced out of my lungs.
No subject.
Did he accidentally send me an email?
I was too nervous to open it, but curiosity took the better of me.
I clicked on the notification and the email popped up on my screen.
Emilia.
I expected you to still be at the office after my meeting at five.
That’s it?
My name and one sentence?
I furrowed my brows, wondering if there was more to it. Had he meant to write something more? God, why did I even care? This was unnecessary. What was he on about?
I stared at the email a little while longer before I typed a reply.
To: Dean Rockwell
Subject: (no subject)
Dear Mr. Rockwell,
I didn’t know I was meant to do extra hours today. Is it something important you needed me for?
Kind regards,
Emilia Hart
I knew he would be annoyed with my reply, but I didn’t care. He wasn’t here to boss me around anyway, and he also couldn’t stare at me with his stupidly intense eyes. I curled my fingers into fists and waited for him to send another email. I knew he would respond. I felt it.
And I was right.
Only a few short minutes later, another email appeared in my mailbox.
From: Dean Rockwell
Subject: Drop the formalities
I needed you, and you know in what way.
My clit throbbed, betraying my mind in the worst possible way. I didn’t want to feel this way. Didn’t want him to take control over my body when we weren’t even in the same room. But for some stupid reason, he had that effect on me.
I pressed my thighs together, gripping the sides of my laptop tight as I leaned back on my couch. I didn’t want to respond. Maybe, if I just stopped replying, he would stop too.
That was wishful thinking…or maybe, internally, I was hoping he would send me another email. God, I needed help. A therapist, maybe. Or just simply a tougher heart that wouldn’t melt every damn time Dean said something to me.
Another email appeared in my inbox, and I immediately clicked on it. God, I was such a sucker for him.
It was like my fingers moved on their own, betraying every ounce of resistance I tried to cling to. This time, the subject line made me want to throw my laptop across the room from frustration. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I was letting him treat me like I wasn’t worth any respect.
From: Dean Rockwell
Subject: Don’t you dare ignore me, kitten
I need you to do something for me, Emilia. Click this link. https://meet.syncwave.e42/room/9XZ4-TRQ7
There was a link below, and only very crazy and stupid people would’ve clicked on it. A link? Seriously? That’s how people got viruses on their devices.
I furrowed my brows and quickly wrote a reply.
To: Dean Rockwell
Subject: (no subject)
Are you insane?
I sent it without thinking twice about it. Calling my boss crazy over email wasn’t the right move. Then again…he was literally sending me messages way past work times. This shouldn’t be legal. Especially because he clearly didn’t need anything work-related from me.
His next email came almost immediately.
From: Dean Rockwell
Subject: Don’t make me tell you again
There was nothing in the body of the email this time. Just the subject line warning me. God, what an ass. I took a deep breath and shook my head at his message, as if that was an answer he would receive. I went back to the email where he added the mysterious link, and I hovered over it with my cursor for a moment, wondering if I would really be stupid enough to click it.
I was a smart woman, and while everything Dean and I did came from me surrendering and doing everything he asked me to, I couldn’t click a damn link. What if this wasn’t Dean? What if his computer at work got hacked, and this was some weird hacker trying to get something from Dean by using me?
I bit the inside of my cheek, hating that I didn’t just shut my laptop.
No, I couldn’t do that. Because in a way, I was still just a little too curious. A bit too adventurous. And…maybe a bit too in love with him.
To: Dean Rockwell
Subject: What is it?
I can’t click on a random link. What if you’re not you but a hacker instead?
It took a while before another email from him came in.
From: Dean Rockwell
Subject: Smart kitten
This is why I’m so fucking obsessed with you, Emilia. You’re sexy and so damn beautiful, but, fuck…that mind of yours is what really makes my cock hard.
Trust me on this, kitten. Click on the link.
I reread those written words at least ten times until my body got uncomfortably hot and sweaty. Damn him and his words. No doubt this was Dean. Why would a hacker even say things like this? Hackers weren’t nice, nor did they talk dirty to a person they never met. Besides…he kept calling me kitten. Only Dean ever called me that.
I bit my bottom lip and went back again to the other email with the link.
Taking a deep breath, I clicked the link. Squinting, I almost didn’t dare looking at the screen, but when I was the one appearing on it, I frowned. My camera had opened, and there was a small box in the middle of the screen, covering half of my face.
Would you like to accept the invitation to start a video conference with Dean Rockwell?
AcceptDecline
I stared at it for a moment, unsure what to do. A video conference. At almost nine-thirty at night? This definitely wasn’t work-related.
My heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears. I glanced down at my clothes, the ones I had worn all day today. At least I wasn’t wearing my white linen pajamas with the little hearts all over. I couldn’t show myself like that in front of my boss. Next, I checked my hair and face on the screen. My makeup had faded, but my curly hair was still as perfect as they were this morning. Not that it truly mattered.
Before making my final decision, I thought of his words again.
“Trust me on this, kitten.”
God, I hated how much that made me want to obey.
I moved the cursor to accept, letting it hover before clicking on it.