Chapter 1 #2
He loosens his tie and yanks off his shirt. I’m loathe to admit it, but the view is impressive. Tanned, smooth skin and mouthwatering abs that belong on a protein shake commercial. The perfect bait trap for a demon like him.
“Did I tell you to speak?” he growls as she grapples with his belt buckle.
I roll my eyes to the heavens. It seems like he’s just as bossy mid-fuck as he is in the boardroom.
Terrified of being caught, I hold my breath, every muscle locked tight, trying to make myself as silent as possible.
But even though I know I should look away, my eyes keep drifting back to him. Chase’s face is flawless, of course. All chiseled lines and perfect bone structure.
But the longer I stare, the more I see.
His eyes are dark, distant. Not cold, exactly—just... numb. Like he’s somewhere else entirely. Or maybe just bored.
Even with a literal supermodel draped across his desk, he looks detached.
Like he’s running through his checklist for the day.
Breakfast. Plan global domination. Lunch. Dismantle a rival. Dinner. Screw a supermodel over your desk. Rinse. Repeat.
I’m so busy staring, I forget about the phone in my pocket—until it starts screaming.
My blood turns to ice as I glance at the flashing screen. The shrill ringtone slices through the silence. I fumble, heart slamming against my ribs, but it slips from my hands and crashes to the floor with a loud crack.
I dive for it like it’s a live grenade, hands scrambling to mute it, nausea rising in my throat, praying they are too distracted to notice.
No such luck.
Terrifying silence is followed by Chase’s deep, commanding tone. “What the hell was that?”
I close my eyes, pulling my knees in tight, wishing I could reverse time and get into that elevator with Seb. I swear he can smell my fear. His nose twitches, his eyes darting around the office.
Please, God, I press my palms together in silent prayer. I promise not to drink Mark’s coffee again. Unless it’s an emergency... and I’m really, really tired.
“Chase, it’s nothing,” the woman purrs, tracing her finger over his iron abs and the tribal tattoo coiled around his left pec.
Yes, Chase, listen to the woman. Just get on with it so I can crawl out of here and pretend this never happened.
His head swivels to the bathroom door, his eyes so dark and chilling I shiver. The way his gaze narrows in on the door, and his lips curl in a sneer; it’s as if he can see right through the solid oak, deep into the pit of my soul.
“Get dressed and leave,” he barks at the woman, his laser focus still locked in my direction. She knows better than to argue as she scrambles to get her clothes back on. She flounces out, the door slamming shut with a force that echoes through the office.
Slowly, he crouches to retrieve his discarded shirt, every movement deliberate, as if each second is under his complete control.
Straightening to his full height, he slides his muscular arms into the sleeves with a precision that only heightens the tension, leaving the buttons undone, the fabric hanging loose over the hard lines of his torso.
His hand rises to his hair, fingers dragging through the dark strands with arrogant ease, slicking back the longer top contrasted by the short undercut.
Every move feels like a warning, a quiet storm brewing beneath the surface. The entire building seems to shake with each approaching footstep. The creak of the bathroom door scrapes over every nerve like broken glass.
“Get out here and stop hiding like a rat,” he bites out, each word laced with barely contained fury.
With my head hanging low, I step forward, avoiding his burning gaze.
“You’d better have a damn good explanation for creeping around my office like a peeping Tom.”
“I didn’t think you’d come back,” I mumble like an idiot, taking a huge step back while he closes the distance with a single stride.
“That much is obvious.” He takes another step forward, his presence like a wall closing in.
“Now, you’ve got five seconds to explain yourself before I call security and have you thrown out on your ass—with a lawsuit for trespassing as a parting gift.”
I stumble back until the cold press of floor-to-ceiling glass stops me, my breath hitching as he looms closer, his eyes fixed on me like I’m on trial before my jury, judge, and executioner.
“Turn out your pockets,” he growls, impatience in his tone.
“I’m not a thief,” I protest, lifting my chin to meet the blackest eyes I’ve ever seen. A rich mahogany that complements his tan skin. Even though they’re the color of dark chocolate, there’s nothing warm about them. They’re devoid of any emotion.
“I was at a meeting on this floor, and I couldn’t find the bathrooms,” I stutter, my chest rising in quick, uneven breaths.
“There’s no way I would employ someone dumb enough to think they could use my office like a public restroom.” His hand snaps to the lanyard around my neck, yanking it tight. The tight pressure makes me gasp.
“Violet Harper,” he says, reading my name like poison on his tongue. “Do you know how many times people have tried to cross me? How many liars and cheats I’ve dealt with?”
“I—I don’t know, sir,” I manage, swallowing hard.
He leans in, twisting a lock of my hair around his finger, his breath brushing my cheek—his voice soft, but lethal.
“Enough times to know I never give second chances.”
He tucks my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering just long enough to leave a maddening tingle in their wake.
“So, Miss Harper, if I were a reasonable man, what do you think should happen next?”
“Well,” I stammer, my pulse pounding like a war drum. “If you were feeling nice, sir, perhaps we could call this a misunderstanding?” My laugh comes out shaky, my half-smile more plea than charm.
His dark smile cuts through my feeble attempt like a blade. He moves closer, lips grazing the shell of my ear.
“The problem is, Violet, I’m the furthest thing from fucking nice you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting.”
He steps back, straightening his cuffs with chilling composure, dismissing me like trash.
“You’re fired,” he says, his tone like ice cracking underfoot. “Now get out of my building before I have you thrown out.”
An anger like I’ve never experienced powers through me like lightning. The warped way he toyed with me before squashing me like a fly.
“You know what?” I spit, the fire in my belly giving me the courage to fight back. “Screw you and screw your dirty empire built off the back of ruining decent people.”
His eyes flash with surprise before the sneer returns. “You better stop talking right now, Violet, if you ever want to work in this city again.”
“Or what are you going to do?” I laugh bitterly. “Run crying to all your little friends about how Violet Harper had the nerve to step foot inside my office.”
He’s on me in an instant, slamming me back against the cool glass. His arms cage me like a fortress on either side, blocking any chance of escape.
“Oh, silly me,” I say, feigning innocence as I meet his gaze head-on. “I forgot—you don’t have any friends.”
For a split second, something flickers in his eyes, dark and raw, before it vanishes, replaced by his mask of control.
“This is your last warning, Violet.”
I tilt my head, scorn dripping from every syllable. “I bet it gives you a raging hard-on, doesn’t it? Crushing a nobody like me. Or were you hoping I’d beg? Drop to my knees for you?”
His jaw tightens, the muscle ticking furiously as his chocolate-brown eyes darken to something feral. “Violet,” he hisses, his tone laced with danger like he’s on the verge of losing control. “You’ve got five seconds...”
I don’t give him the satisfaction of finishing.
I rip the lanyard from my neck and shove it against his chest, the impact barely moving him, before brushing past him, my shoulder grazing his as I storm out.
Tears sting my eyes as I march toward the elevator, but I force them back.
I won’t give this man one drop of my hurt.
“Stop following me,” I bite out, picking up my pace as his footsteps fall behind me.
“I’ll go where I damn well please, Violet,” he growls. “In case it escaped your notice, this building and everything inside belongs to me. I’ll burn it to the fucking ground if I wish.”
“Please go ahead,” I snark, hammering the elevator button. “And make sure you’re still inside when you do.”
He lets out a dry, mirthless laugh, standing so close I feel his breath on my neck. I hate the way his proximity makes every hair on my skin crackle.
“You always shake this much, or am I just special?” he murmurs, voice dipped in cruelty. “Relax, Violet, I’m just making sure you leave.”
The elevator dings, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
I stride in and spin around, unable to resist one last dig.
“And one more thing,” I drawl. “You might want to remove those dirty, wet panties from your desk. They might present a hazard and we don’t want it getting flagged by health and safety.
” I flash him a sarcastic smile as the elevator doors close, pleased to have had the last word for now.
But just before the doors slide shut, he makes his final play.
Not with words—just a smile.
The kind of smile that could start wars, end them, and make you forget what damn side you were on, to begin with.
Only an utter bastard could grind someone into the dirt and steal their breath away at the same moment.
He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t need to. His dark hair tumbles into his eyes like some cruelly choreographed accident, his black gaze gleaming with a heat that makes my cheeks flush against my will.
The hard planes of his chest tease through the gap of his unbuttoned shirt.
And there he stands, hands tucked casually into his pockets, like he’s just saying goodbye to a friend after coffee. Cold. Untouchable. Infuriatingly perfect.
A monster disguised as an angel.