Chapter 19 - LEO
It’s the night of the company party, to celebrate the opening of a new hotel in France. I didn’t want to come, but we had no choice as everyone from the company is here.
As we walk into the main event room, the lights flash all different colors, feeling too bright for my overstimulated mind.
I don’t want to see Ethan again. It’s been a week since that night, and tonight will be my first time seeing him since I walked out of his penthouse.
He’s been in California on business, so it’s been easy to pretend he doesn’t exist at work.
I’m dreading the next few days. I handed in my notice, and agreed to stay on for two weeks until they’ve rehired so they’re not shortstaffed.
The sooner I leave here, the better. Then I won’t be reminded of every single detail of that night.
Every touch, every moan, every thrust. It’s too much.
We walk further into the room toward the free bar and I’m hit with how aggressively alive everything is. Light bouncing off crystal glasses, off polished marble, off dresses that cost more than my rent. Music pulsing like a second heartbeat. It smells like money.
Sarah, however, is in her element. The first thing she did with the money was buy herself some new clothes, her first designer dress that she’s wearing tonight.
The money will be all gone by the time she is finished.
I have palpitations at the homes she is viewing.
She doesn’t seem to comprehend that spending all of the money on a home will still leave us without a life, as how are we gonna pay to run the home?
We will still need to work. I want to invest, and be humble in what we buy, but it’s yet another argument.
We fight when we have no money, and we fight when we do.
“Oh my god,” she murmurs, already smoothing her hair, straightening her shoulders. “Leo. Look at this place.”
I am and I hate it here. I’m so out of place in these kinds of settings. It doesn’t help that all I can think is Ethan. Knowing he is here somewhere, lurking in the corner, watching. Always watching.
It’s no different in the offices when no one ever knows when he will appear. He exists in rumors and clipped warnings, in the way people lower their voices near the executive corridor. But this is his world, which means he has to show his face.
Sarah loops her arm through mine possessively, smiling at anyone who looks remotely important.
She’s wearing her new Gucci blue dress and it’s definitely turning heads.
I can’t blame them as she looks stunning.
Elegance and natural beauty. She flourishes in these situations, she wants to be part of it so bad I think she would sell an organ for it.
“You need to network,” she says under her breath. “This is an opportunity, Leo. Don’t stand there like some vase.”
“Sarah, for one night just stop. I fucked my boss for money, but no more. No more directions and orders. You want to move up the chain? Do it yourself,” I whisper hiss at her, not remotely in the mood for her lectures.
I move to her side when we reach the bar and order two glasses of the complimentary champagne. While I wait, I scan the room without meaning to. And then I see him.
Ethan stands near the far wall, dressed in black like the concept of restraint tailored into fabric. No drink in his hand. No idle posture. He isn’t speaking to anyone, yet people orbit him unconsciously, like he has his own gravity. The flashing lights highlight his eyes that are already on me.
The sensation is immediate. Memories of a hand closing around my throat, not tight enough to hurt, just enough to remind me it could.
Sarah follows my gaze.
“Oh,” she says softly. “Is this gonna be weird for you?”
I don’t answer. I’m too focused on his pissed off gaze as I start to panic. Please don’t kick off, Ethan. I just know he’s jealous. I know he is stopping himself from storming over here like a tornado to whisk me away. Sarah squeezes my arm, but it does nothing to ease my nerves.
“Come on, maybe we should say hello.”
“No,” I say too quickly as I turn to face her, but she frowns in confusion.
“Why not?”
“Why do you think?”
“What happened to being mature about this, Leo? It’s always good to keep men like him onside.”
“Onside for what? A repeat performance where you start renting me out by the hour?”
“Thats not what I’m saying, Leo.”
I’m too overwhelmed, and I can’t stop myself from looking back at him. I can feel his heat along my spine. I can still feel his cock in my ass. Shit. No, no, no. Why am I getting hard right now?
“We’ll just be polite,” she insists, already steering me forward.
For some reason, I don’t stop her. I’m not in control right now as she guides us over to him. The crowd swallows us up as we move through them, drowning in glitter, laughter and clinking glass, and with every step closer, my pulse grows louder.
Ethan doesn’t move. He waits, just as we stop a few feet away.
“Ethan,” Sarah says too brightly. “So nice to see you again.”
Is she for fucking real right now?
“I just want to say thank you for helping me and my husband out. I will never forget it,” she says slyly, intentionally trying to get a response, and from the look on his face she is succeeding, as the word husband lands like a match dropped into oil as Ethan’s eyes flick to her.
“Sarah, quit it,” I snarl.
“I’m just trying to be friendly. No reason to not get along.”
Ethan glares at Sarah without saying a word, then back to me. Something passes over his face, a pursing of the lips. He’s calculating his next move and I just want to bail out of here.
“I agree, I’ve been very friendly to Leo, have I not?” he says coldly and Sarah’s face drops at the insinuation. She never learns. His stoic manner right now terrifies me and Sarah is insistent on prodding.
“From what I’ve heard it could be better,” she says, tilting her head, waiting for a reaction. Why the hell is she doing this?
I’m glad he doesn’t respond. Instead, he ignores her and speaks to me.
“You didn’t tell me you were attending tonight.”
“You’ve been away. Besides, isn’t it compulsory for staff to attend?” I say.
“It is. But I didn’t think you worked here anymore.”
“I’m just helping out until they get a replacement. It’s not fair to leave them in the lurch.”
He hums in response and lets his gaze drag over my suit, my collar, the place where Sarah’s hand rests on my arm, causing his jaw to tighten a fraction.
“You look different,” he says.
I don’t know if it’s an insult or a compliment, but Sarah laughs lightly.
“He cleans up well, doesn’t he?” Again, Ethan ignores her.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks me.
“I just got here. It’s a little lively for me.”
“Of course it is.”
The room feels quieter around us, like sound itself is nervous as we talk to each other through our eyes.
This weird connection we have that’s so damn freaky.
I know what he wants. He wants me again, he wants to tear Sarah’s hand away from me and claim me.
All I can convey back to him is to please not do anything, not to make a scene.
“Have a lovely evening,” he says softly as he turns and walks away.
Sarah exhales, sneering at his back.
“Arrogant prick,” she scolds.
“Why were you trying to rile him up? I told you I wanted to forget about what happened, but you are determined to keep it alive.”
“I just wanted him to know he isn’t in control of us. That’s all.”
Yeah, right. Like I believe a word that comes out of her mouth. Sarah is the one who wants control and I’m tired of it.
I look over to the other side of the room where Ethan is talking to a group of older rich boys and inside my chest, something is already unraveling as the memory of his scent envelops me.
I can’t let this happen. This want. I can’t.
It’s a couple of hours later into the party and I try to focus on Sarah and on the safe, predictable chaos of small talk and champagne. But every time I laugh, I feel him watching me, like a hot brand being pressed into my back.
Every time Sarah touches my arm, my shoulder, my back, I imagine Ethan seeing it. Wanting to cut her hand off so she stops touching me. Just as I’m about to suggest to Sarah that we leave, my phone vibrates alerting me to a text message.
Ethan: Come to my office. Now.
My mouth goes dry, but I don’t question his command. Sarah is in the middle of explaining her “five-year vision” to a woman with diamonds in her hair.
“I have to take this,” I say.
She waves me off distractedly, too involved in her conversation to care what I do.
I weave through the crowd, heart climbing into my throat, and take the service elevator to Ethan’s floor. When I get there, the executive corridor is empty. I see his office door is open, light spilling out like a hazard warning to stay away. But I don’t. Instead, I step inside.
Ethan is standing by his desk, jacket removed, sleeves rolled to his forearms. I stand in the middle of his office, with my hands in my pocket without saying a word. Ethan moves over and closes the door behind me with a soft click, which may as well be a slam with how loud every noise is.
“You brought your wife,” he says.
“Obviously.”
“Why?” he asks accusingly, and I swallow hard.
“Because she wanted to come.”
“That is not an answer.”
Taking my hands out of my pockets, I grip them together to stop them from shaking.
“She’s my wife.”
“She’s a pest that shouldn’t be here.”
His eyes move over my face, my mouth, my throat, then lower, then back up. Slow and possessive.
“You’re breaking our contract,” he says, and I frown in confusion.
“How? The contract was for one night.”
“No. If you read the fine print, you would be aware of what you signed. Never sign a contract without reading every detail.”
“Hold on, what do you mean fine print?”
“You signed your life away, Leo. To me.”
I blink sharply, trying to dissect what he means.
“You’re lying,” I say, fear creeping in the longer I stand here.