4. Bella #2
Adrian’s smile is slow and satisfied. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“But I have conditions,” I continue. “I want full access to all the evidence. I want to be involved in every step of the investigation. And I want your word that this is about justice, not just revenge.”
“You have my word,” Adrian says. “This is about making sure Marcus faces consequences for what he’s done. Everything else is secondary.”
I nod, feeling a sense of purpose settle over me. This is right. This is what I’m meant to do.
“When do we start?” I ask.
“We already have,” Adrian says. “Welcome to the war, Isabella.”
The next few weeks are a blur of activity. I throw myself into the investigation with single-minded focus, analyzing financial records, tracking down witnesses, building a case against Marcus that will be impossible to refute.
I work closely with Adrian, often staying late into the evening to discuss strategy and review evidence. We fall into an easy rhythm, our minds working in sync, each anticipating what the other will say or do.
And through it all, the tension between us continues to build.
It’s there in the way Adrian’s hand lingers on my shoulder when he leans over to look at my computer screen.
It’s there in the way my breath catches when Adrian stands too close.
It’s there in the long looks we exchange across the conference table, in the conversations that last well past midnight, in the growing sense that we’re dancing around something inevitable.
I try to ignore it, try to focus on the work. But it’s getting harder and harder to deny what I’m feeling.
I’m falling for Adrian Sterling.
It’s different from what I felt for Marcus. With Marcus, it was comfortable, safe, predictable. With Adrian, it’s electric, dangerous, thrilling. He challenges me intellectually, respects me professionally, and looks at me like I’m the most fascinating person in the world.
And I’m starting to suspect that he feels the same way about me.
It all comes to a head on a Friday evening, three weeks after Adrian revealed the true nature of our project. We’re alone in the office - everyone else has gone home hours ago - reviewing the latest batch of evidence we’ve uncovered.
“This is it,” I say, my voice filled with excitement. “This proves Marcus knew about the safety violations. He signed off on the inspections himself.”
Adrian leans over my shoulder to look at the document on my screen, his larger-than-life hands propped on my desk, and I’m all of a sudden acutely aware of his proximity. I can feel the heat of his body, can smell his intoxicating cologne, can hear his breathing. His nearness makes my skin prickle.
“This is good… but it’s just more of the same to back up the evidence we already have.” He frowns, chews his lower lip. “And did you find the other thing we were looking for?”
I nod excitedly. “It wasn’t a text between me and him,” I say a little awkwardly, finding it hard to remember a time when me and Marcus texted. “It was a text between him and a business partner of his, saying he was going to frame me for it all along.”
“No shit,” he breathes in awe. Adrian leans even closer…
I freeze, going stiff in my chair. Now I’m all too aware of the emptiness of the office other than the two of us. There is no one else here but us. Me and Adrian. It’s just me and him…
He jumps away from me as quickly as he got close. Adrian pumps his fist into the air. “We got him,” he says simply, eyes alight. He points at me. “And you’re willing to testify to this in court?”
I nod without any hesitation. How dare that son of a bitch cheat on me, leave me at the altar, and then try to frame me for all of his dirty business deals?
“Perfect. That’s my girl,” Adrian winks, saying it so casually. “I’ll pour us a couple of drinks.”
He’s walking away before I’ve even had the chance to reply or come up with a reply. In the end I believe it’s a good thing because the second he turns away I blow out a breath.
Have I been holding my breath this whole time that I’ve been interacting with him? I close my eyes and try to take slower breaths, only they just end up coming out more labored.
My heart thrums too quickly in my chest. I need to relax and just when I think I might be about to be able to, Adrian returns with two glasses in one hand. He holds one out to me, his eyes smoldering like a thousand stars.
I just stare at him, unable to think. I should’ve heard the click of his footsteps from a mile away. It’s quiet in the offices now.
“You’re brilliant,” Adrian murmurs, and his voice is lower than usual, rougher. “Do you know that?”
He offers me the drink again.
I turn my head to look at him, and suddenly we’re face to face, mere inches apart. We are so close that the tips of our noses brush against one another. I can see the gold flecks in his strange eyes, can see the way his gaze drops to my lips. He bites his own lower lip as he locks those eyes on me.
“Adrian,” I whisper, not sure if it’s a warning or an invitation. It comes out sort of like a whimper.
He makes a rough sound in the back of his throat. That one sound goes straight to my core. I feel the moisture build between my legs but I can’t look away from him. I’m suddenly very aware of the desk he’s leaning on, suddenly grossly aware of the fact that we’re in an office.
How many times did I fantasize about this exact same moment? How many times did I imagine he would do this same thing? The day Adrian would finally look at me like this, the day he would finally speak to me like this.
Of course I had the fantasy. Who would blame me after seeing him? Besides, he’s called me “good girl” enough times that it’s partly his fault. He wanted me to fantasize about him.
And so here we are. Playing this dangerous game together.
It feels dark in this office, shadowy. We’ve inched closer and closer to each other, now we’re leaning into one another’s space.
He reaches down and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek. “Tell me to stop,” he says softly. “Tell me this is a bad idea, and I’ll walk away right now.”
I know I should tell him to stop. I know getting involved with my boss is a terrible idea, that it will complicate everything, that I’m probably just rebounding from Marcus.
My mind spins and I do end up jumping out of my chair, flustered. The only problem is Adrian is right there in front of me and he presses me until my ass is leaning against the edge of the desk and he’s caging me in with his arms.
My breath catches. He smirks at me, that devilish smirk that could make a nun put out.
Stop. I should tell him to stop. That’s what I was about to do isn’t it?
But I don’t want to stop. I want this - want him - with an intensity that takes my breath away.
And if I’m being honest, I’ve wanted him for a long time. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean even closer.
“Don’t stop,” I say nearly against his lips.
Adrian’s smile is slow and devastating. And then he’s kissing me, his lips soft and warm against mine, even though they’re crashing into me, consuming me, his hand cupping my face with surprising gentleness.
I melt into the kiss, my hands coming up to grip his shoulders. My nails dig into Adrian’s strong muscles, wanting to do more than cling, wanting to do damage. Real damage. This is nothing like kissing Marcus. This is fire and electricity and a hunger that threatens to consume me.
Everything with Adrian is different I’m realizing. Even down to the way he proudly showed me off on his arm last night.
Even down to this right here.
Adrian pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against mine. “I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admits, his breath heavy against my lips.
“What?”
He smirks. In the darkness and dim light of the office his eyes seem even darker. “I told you, the first reason I asked you to come is because you are beautiful.” My eyes widen, remembering his words from the gala. “Like I said, months.”
“Well, then why didn’t you?” I ask breathlessly.
In my mind I’m trying to put together all those moments, to remember and see them with a new perspective.
“Because I wanted you to be sure,” Adrian says. “I wanted you to choose this - choose me - without any pressure or obligation. I wanted you to be ready.”
“I am ready, Adrian,” I say, and I mean it. I’m ready to move forward, ready to take this risk, ready to see where this thing between us can go.
Adrian kisses me again, deeper this time, more urgent. I respond with equal passion, my fingers threading through his hair, my body pressing against every hard part of his.
And I do mean every hard part.
His tongue urges me for entry so my mouth parts and that’s when things get really wild. It becomes a blur of passion after that.
We stumble backward until my back hits the edge of my desk. Adrian’s hands are on my waist, lifting me up to sit on the desk, and then he’s standing between my legs, kissing me like I’m oxygen and he’s been drowning.
“We should stop,” Adrian murmurs against my lips, but his hands are already sliding up my thighs, pushing the fabric of my skirt higher. “Tell me to stop, Bella.”
“Don’t,” I breathe. “Don’t stop.”
The words seem to unleash something in him. He freezes, still as a statue.
His hand slides up to my throat and collars me there. He rips my face this way and that, like I’m a puppet and he has my strings.
“Good girl,” he croons, some edge of darkness to his voice that has me frowning.
But intrigued. I definitely don’t want him to stop now.
“Do you know how many times I thought about bending you over this desk and finding out just how good of a girl I can make you be for me, sweetheart?”
I swallow past my dry lips. The office is the thrill of it for me, that tomorrow there will be people buzzing all over this place and none of them will know what we did in here.
But me and Adrian, my boss, will know.
“Yes sir,” I reply, batting my lashes innocently even as his hand squeezes around my throat.