Chapter Seven #2
We slip into a small office. It’s dimly lit, quiet, and shielded from the open-plan space. The door closes behind us with a soft click.
Erik grabs a box of tissues from his desk and hands one to me. “Sit,” he says.
I do, dabbing my eyes and trying to breathe. I can feel myself unravelling and I will it to hold back until I at least get home.
Erik leans back against the desk, his broad arms crossed, watching me like he’s studying a project. “People forget,” he says quietly, “that grief has teeth. It bites when you least fucking expect it.”
A breath shudders out of me. He gets it. And just like that, I don’t feel so alone.
WARREN
Nancy closes the office door behind us and immediately steps into my space. She’s all perfume, confidence and entitlement. I hate it. I take a small step back.
She folds her arms. “I’m done pretending we’re circling each other, Warren. I’m interested. You know that.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Nancy—”
“No. Let me finish.” She moves to the chair opposite mine and sits like she’s presenting to a boardroom.
“Your father and my father are aligned. They trust each other. Our families have history. You and I—” She gestures between us with a manicured hand.
“—make sense. We’re compatible. Strategically.
Financially. And socially. And I’m tired of waiting for you to realise that.
”Her voice is steady. Calculated. Like she’s reading from notes.
I should be listening. But my eyes flick, involuntarily, to the glass wall.
Leoni’s desk is still empty. The tightness in my chest is immediate. Irritating. Unwelcome. I don’t have time for this. To care. To want her. Fuck. Where the hell did she go anyway?
Nancy keeps talking. “You need someone who understands this life. Someone who can handle the attention. The expectations. The pressure. Someone who doesn’t crumble.
” Her lips curve. “Someone strong. Now I know your father has asked you to entertain the office girl. And I’m okay with that…
for now. Once she’s served her purpose, things can go back to normal. ”
My jaw shifts. “And what do you know exactly?” I snap.
Movement catches my eye, distracting me. Synthia, the office manager, walks past Leoni’s desk and sets down a stack of files. I stand abruptly. “Hold that thought.” I step out into the open office. “Synthia,” I call.
She turns, clutching a stapler to her chest like I’ve startled her. “Yes, Mr Baxter?”
“Where’s Leoni?”
She gestures vaguely down the hall. “Oh—uh—last I saw, she was heading into Erik’s office.” She laughs lightly. “Looked cosy too.”
Something hot and sharp flares in my chest. I keep my expression neutral. “Thank you.”
She scurries away.
I stand there for another beat, controlling the urge to march down the hall and drag Leoni out myself.
Not in front of Nancy and the rest of the office.
I go back into my office and close the door.
Nancy is still sitting exactly how I left her. “Done?” she asks with a tight smile.
“Continue,” I say flatly, sitting.
She resumes instantly, completely unaware she’s lost me. “I’m proposing we make this official. Appear together. Events. Dinners. My father will support the alignment. Yours already does. It strengthens the network, the reputation. Stability. Influence.”
Her voice fades in and out as I think about Erik’s hands on Leoni. Her red eyes. She was ready to break, and I let her leave. I let Nancy pull me away.
Fuck.
Silence falls and I realise she’s finished. She leans forward, expectant. “Well?”
I don’t trust my voice. So, I nod. Barely.
Her face lights up like she’s just won a prize. “Good,” she breathes, relief pouring out of her. “Finally.”
She stands and comes around the desk, leaning down to kiss my cheek before gliding out the door.
The office goes quiet. I sit there with my pulse pounding, and my jaw clenched so tight my teeth hurt. I don’t even know what I just agreed to.But I do know one thing, Leoni is in Erik’s office. And I hate that more than anything I’ve felt in a very, very long time.
My office door swings open without a knock. Only one person does that.My father steps in like he owns the air in the room, heading straight for the liquor cabinet. He chooses the single malt I keep for clients and pours himself a generous glass.
“Don’t bother with the office girl anymore,” he says, swirling the amber liquid lazily. “Focus on Nancy. That’s where your attention should be.”
I lean back in my chair, jaw ticking. “Office girl,” I echo. “You mean Leoni.” He doesn’t correct himself. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” I say, my voice controlled. “Does the name Michael Rowe mean anything to you?”
He pauses mid-sip. Just a fraction. But enough for me to notice, catching the recognition that passes over his face. Then he smiles—slow and practised. “You’ve been digging.”
“I like to know who’s in my life.” I stare him down. “Especially when they’re tangled up in yours.”
He lowers himself into the chair opposite me, taking his time. He looks relaxed, but it’s forced.
“You have your mother’s instinct,” he says.
“Always knew when you were being lied to. Always pushed for the truth.” He lifts his glass.
“I respect that.” I don’t blink. He takes a drink.
“If I thought there were secrets affecting Baxter Corporation—I’d be the same.
Relentless. So I understand why you’re looking. ”
My pulse pounds in my ears. He’s saying all the right words. But there’s no honesty in them.
He sets the glass down carefully on my desk.
“But this?” he continues, his voice smooth.
“Whatever history exists between myself and Michael Rowe does not concern you. It does not concern the business. It is mine. To handle. To finish.” He pauses a beat.
“And trying to involve you?” He shakes his head, as if regretful. “A mistake. I see that now.”
Bullshit.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “So, I’ve passed the matter on to your brother.”
Ice floods my veins.
“Erik,” I say quietly.
“Yes.” He stands, straightening his suit cuffs. “Let him take the burden of the girl. You focus on what actually matters.”
My chair creaks as I rise. “I’m not interested in Nancy.”
“You will be. You should be.” He doesn’t turn back. “Marriage builds alliances, Warren. A binding contract. With the Chief of Police’s family tied to ours, Baxter Corporation becomes untouchable. Our influence—limitless.”
I stare at him, disgust curling in my chest. “You’re getting greedy.”
He laughs once, soft and dismissive, before facing me fully again. “What we have is power,” he says. “We don’t stop when we have enough. We stop when we own everything.”
“No,” I say, rising to my feet. “You’re going to destroy everything we’ve built.”
For the first time his smile fades. The air between us sharpens. But only for a second. Then his mask slides back into place. “I haven’t failed this family so far, Warren. Trust me, I know what’s best,” he says, walking to the door. “Lunch with Nancy’s family again on Friday. You’ll be there.”
He leaves without waiting for a reply. I stare after him, breathing hard, with my hands curling into fists.
Erik. With Leoni.
The door has barely clicked shut behind my father before I’m out of my chair. I take the corridor in long strides, pulse hammering like I’ve been sprinting instead of walking.
Erik’s office is halfway down the hall, tucked out of main view, quiet, easy to miss unless you know it’s there.
I don’t knock. I push the door open. And I stop dead.
Leoni is in Erik’s arms. Her face is buried in his chest, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.And his arms are wrapped around her tightly.
He looks up when I enter. And he smirks. It’s not friendly or kind, it’s predatory. He knows exactly what he’s doing, my father’s little minion carrying out orders.
He tucks a strand of her hair away from her damp cheek with two fingers, deliberately slow as he stares into her eyes, his expression soft and concerned.
My vision goes hot. “What’s going on?” I snap.
Erik raises a brow. “She’s upset, Warren. Are you blind?”
Leoni pulls back fast, wiping at her face with her sleeve, mortified. Seeing her cry does something to me, something sharp and direct and choking. I claw at my tie, loosening the knot away from my neck.
And then I cover it the only way I know how. “Well, she needs to get back to her desk,” I bite out. “She’s already behind after all the time she’s had off.”
The words are out before I can stop them. And the second they land, I regret them. Because her face crumples. Not dramatically, just a flicker. But it’s enough to feel her pain, which ricochets from her and hits me right back in the chest.
Erik lets out a low whistle, and I can see his delight at my fuck up, I’m playing right into his hands. “Christ. Cold-hearted even for you.”
“Stay out of this,” I growl.
“Maybe try not talking to her like she’s an inconvenience,” Erik fires back. He turns to her, voice soft, too soft. “Ignore him, Leoni. He doesn’t know how to talk to people who have feelings.”
She sniffles, but she’s already pulling herself back together. Her shoulders straightening, her chin lifting.
Erik sees it and goes in for the kill.
“My office is open any time you need a break,” he says, still watching me.
“And actually, there’s dinner Friday. It’s a family thing.
You should come as my plus one. Nancy will be there too.
They’re discussing the union.” My stomach drops.
He grins wider. “Maybe we’ll even settle a date for the wedding, hm?
” he says to me, his voice dripping with mock-sympathy.
He thinks he’s clever. He’s loving this.
Leoni’s expression shifts to hurt, then something harder. She wipes her cheeks properly. No trembling hands this time, as she plucks a tissue from the box behind him.
“Thank you, Erik,” she says quietly. “Really. But my world does not fit in yours.”
She turns toward the door. Her shoulder brushes mine as she passes, a little nudge like she wants to shove me into the wall, and she doesn’t look at me. She just walks out.
Erik leans back against his desk, arms crossed, satisfied. “You’re losing your touch,” he murmurs.
“I’m not playing this game with you,” I warn.
He grins now, looking relaxed as he arches a brow.
I’ve set him a challenge, even without meaning to.
“When father suggested I take over the burden that is Leoni, I was a little disappointed. She’s not really my type, a little plain, too feisty.
And she could do with a boost in the chest area,” he pauses, like he’s thinking, “But you’ve made it interesting.
And when I bend her over my desk and fuck her until she’s screaming my name, I’ll be sure to send you the video, so you know without a doubt that you have, in fact, played the game, but I have won. ”
I don’t answer. Because I can still feel her slipping away. And I don’t know how to stop it. I leave to the sound of him laughing.
I find her already at her desk. She’s not crying anymore. She’s furious.The diary hits the desk harder than it needs to as she slams it down and rips it open. Her pen snaps open like she’s drawing a blade.She flips files, moves things, sorts things, all with sharp, clipped movements.
All the while, ignoring me standing there watching her.
I clear my throat. “Leoni—”
She doesn’t look up. “I have work to do.”
Her voice is steady. Completely flat.
I move closer. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” She keeps writing. “Leoni.”
Nothing.
My jaw clenches.
“I was—” Jealous. The word burns my tongue. “Frustrated. I didn’t mean—”
She slams the pen down. “There is nothing to explain.” Her voice trembles, but not with tears, with restraint. “You made it perfectly clear how you feel.”
“That’s not—”
“I’m your employee.” She gestures to the office around her. “A liability. An inconvenience. Someone who should be grateful just to breathe in your direction, right?”
I sigh. “Leoni—”
“No.” She stands, finally meeting my eyes, and what I see there makes my chest feel tight.Not anger or disdain. But hurt. “I told you,” she whispers. “I told you today at lunch, I don’t want whatever this is between us. It’s confusing and messy, and I can’t afford messy, Warren.”
I feel something sharp twist in my stomach.
“You liked it better when we argued,” I shoot back before I can stop myself. “Isn’t that what you said? That you need me to hate you because it’s easier?”
“Exactly,” she spits back. “Like this, we both know where we stand. It’s not complicated or confusing.” She sits back down slowly, hands trembling as she reaches for her keyboard. “We should keep things professional.”
Professional. The word feels like a knife.
I swallow hard. “Right.” I turn and walk into my office, slamming my door in frustration.