Chapter 14
Elliot let out a strangled whimper, but the moment Dimitri twisted his fingers just a little harder, the pathetic excuse for a man crumpled further, his knees sliding against the carpet as his shoulder nearly touched the ground. His breath came in rapid, shallow pants, his face contorted in agony.
“You implied Ms. Carrington sold her body for a promotion,” Dimitri continued, his voice smooth but laced with unmistakable malice. “Is that really what you meant to say?”
“No!” Elliot gasped, his voice cracking under the pressure. “No! I promise— I swear, I didn’t mean it like that!”
Dimitri hummed, as if considering the plea, then leaned in close.
“That’s good,” he growled, the deep vibration of his voice all the more terrifying than shouting could have been.
“Because I would hate to think a man who has been underpaying and overworking his best employee for years would also be the type of worthless bastard who slanders her reputation without cause or proof.”
Elliot wheezed, a mix of panic and pain.
“I’m going to release your fingers now,” Dimitri continued, his tone deceptively calm. “But before I do, I need you to pay very close attention.”
“Anything,” Elliot whispered, tears leaking down his cheeks as he nodded desperately.
“If anyone asks why Ms. Carrington was promoted, you will tell the truth, which is because of her exceptional accounting and analysis skills,” Dimitri growled, his grip still firm, fingers still pressing against the most sensitive joints.
“You will make it clear, to everyone, that she earned this promotion due to her talent and dedication. You will also admit, quite openly, that you have been underpaying her for the last five years, to the point of holding back raises we both know she’s earned several times over.
And when people ask how you’re handling the loss of such a skilled accountant, you will tell them that you are now doing both your job and hers—until you can find someone half as competent to replace her. ”
Elliot nodded frantically, his breath hitching as he tried to suppress another yelp. “Okay! Okay! I’ll say whatever you want!”
“Excellent.” Dimitri released his fingers, stepping back as Elliot collapsed, cradling his injured hand against his chest like a wounded animal.
Dimitri didn’t even spare him a glance. Instead, he turned to Giselle, his sharp focus shifting entirely to her. “Are you okay? Did he touch you? Did he hurt you in any way?”
Giselle blinked, surprised not only by his concern but also by why he was concerned. No one—no man—had ever stood up for her like this. Women usually supported each other, but men? They ignored those kinds of insults, brushed them aside as jokes or harmless jabs.
But Dimitri had reacted with unflinching, menacing precision.
“I’m fine,” she said, more quietly than she intended.
Dimitri gave her a long, assessing look before turning his attention back to the sniveling mess on the floor. His voice was pure ice when he spoke. “Get out of my sight, Miller.”
Elliot flinched and scrambled to his feet.
Dimitri finally glanced at him, his mouth curling with cold amusement. “You might want to have someone take a look at that hand.”
Giselle peeked around Dimitri’s broad shoulders to see Elliot stumble toward the door, his gait unsteady. He moved so quickly in his eagerness to escape that he smacked his shoulder against the doorframe, emitting a sharp hiss of pain, recoiling like a kicked dog.
Dimitri lifted a finger, silencing whatever Giselle had been about to say.
Then, with unhurried ease, he turned to the dour-looking bodyguard standing just outside the door.
“Make sure Mr. Miller gets safely to a doctor,” he ordered, his voice rich with mock sympathy.
“He’s going to need some extra attention today. ”
The bodyguard, a solid wall of a man who had remained impressively neutral throughout the exchange, gave a single nod. And was that—?
Had he just smiled?
Before Giselle could be certain, the bodyguard turned, following Elliot down the hall, though there wasn’t much help in the way he ushered the man along.
Giselle exhaled slowly, overwhelmed by what had just happened.
Dimitri had humiliated Elliot, forced him to acknowledge her worth, and made it clear—without hesitation—that no one could get away with disrespecting her in his presence.
It left her shaken in a way she hadn’t expected. Not because she was afraid, but because… no one had ever done that for her before.
No one had ever fought for her.
“Giselle!” Dimitri called, snapping her back to the present. His voice was sharp, commanding, but there was something else beneath it. Concern. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she said automatically, though her answer came out softer than intended. Then she scowled, regaining some of her composure. “Did you have to hurt Elliot’s hand like that?”
Dimitri’s jaw flexed, his expression cooling. “Why do women always defend their abusers?”
She opened her mouth to argue, but then shut it just as quickly. She wasn’t defending Elliot… was she?
She scrambled to justify her reaction, but the moment she really thought about it, the truth settled over her like a heavy weight.
Elliot had been taking advantage of her.
For years. Dumping extra work on her desk, holding back promotions, keeping her in a position where she was always trying to prove herself but never actually getting ahead.
She had been grateful for the job, eager to please, willing to shoulder the workload because she thought it would pay off in the end. But had it been fair? Had it been right?
And there was the salary issue.
“What did you mean about my raises?” she asked, looking up at him with wide, searching eyes.
Dimitri didn’t hesitate. “I looked into your salary history, Giselle. You’ve been underpaid for years, despite receiving excellent performance reviews.
You should have been earning significantly more.
” His voice was pure steel, controlled but laced with quiet fury.
“You’ll be receiving a raise for this position, and I’m also making sure you get back pay for the money you were cheated out of. ”
Her stomach flipped. “I…was?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
His expression softened slightly, a hint of amusement breaking through the hard lines of his face. “You were. And you are.”
She swallowed, her heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. Dimitri shifted imperceptibly closer, his presence taking up more space, his warmth reaching her even though they weren’t touching.
“No one will ever take advantage of you again,” he said, his voice dropping lower.
A shiver ran through her. Not from fear. Not from nerves. From something else entirely.
She wanted him to touch her. Nothing wild, just—just a brush of his fingers against her arm, a fleeting graze of his hand across her own. Something to ground her, to let her know this moment was real. She clenched her hands into fists, resisting the urge to reach out to him.
That would be a mistake. Especially since her thoughts were becoming distinctly less professional.
She struggled to breathe normally, stepping back slightly to break the overwhelming spell he was casting over her.
“How do you like your new office?” he asked, shifting gears smoothly. “Do you need anything?”
She turned, forcing herself to look around, even though her thoughts were still ensnared by the man standing mere feet away. Carefully, she walked over to the bare desk, sliding the box onto it as she looked around.
“It’s great,” she admitted, scanning the space. “It’s significantly bigger than my last office, though, so I have no idea what I’ll do with all the extra space.”
“You’re going to need it,” he replied easily, gesturing toward the sun-lit corner where the small conference table sat. “Especially the extra seating.”
She smiled, shaking her head slightly. “I think you’re overestimating how many people want to have meetings with me.”
Dimitri’s mouth quirked, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “We’ll see about that.”
Then his gaze flicked to the box on the desk, and his brows pulled together slightly. “Where’s the rest of your stuff? I’ll help you get set up.”
Giselle laughed, placing a hand on the half-filled printer-paper box. “This is it. It’s all I have from my old office.”
Dimitri blinked at the box, then at her, then back at the box. For a long moment, he said nothing.
“That’s it?” Dimitri finally asked, his voice tinged with disbelief as he stared at the half-filled box on her desk, as if it personally offended him.
“Yep.” She forced a smile, unaware of the sadness in her own eyes. “I travel light.”
He stepped closer, the shift in his presence making her breath catch.
“You don’t think you belong anywhere, do you, Giselle?”
The question landed like a gut punch. She had no answer because, damn, he was right. Her family… well, she never really felt like she belonged with them. She had always been the misfit, the one who never quite fit into their dysfunctional rhythm. And she knew that they knew it too.
“I just—”
“And you don’t want to take up space,” he continued, his deep voice threading through her thoughts. His gaze locked onto hers, unwavering, cutting straight through her defenses. “You’re afraid that if you take up too much space, people will notice you.”
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
His hand lifted, his fingers grazing her hair, barely there, as if he was tucking away a stray lock.
“If people notice you,” he murmured, “they might have expectations. And you’re not always certain you can meet them.”
The words struck deep, stabbing into places she wasn’t willing to acknowledge.
How the hell did he know that?
How could he take one look at a stupid box and read her whole life like an open book?
“You don’t know me, Mr. De Luca,” she said, her voice clipped, but betraying the emotion threatening to choke her. “You don’t know what motivates me.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, stepping back, but his eyes didn’t lose their intensity. “But I’d like to. If you’d let me.”
And just like that, he turned, heading for the door with a casual ease that irritated her. How could he say something like that, shatter her composure and then leave like nothing had happened?
“I know today has been chaotic,” he continued, glancing over his shoulder.
“The office move, the new role…” His eyes flicked to the red dress she wore with a knowing glint.
“A few unexpected surprises. We’ll meet tomorrow morning to go over everything.
For now, take the rest of the day to settle in.
Then leave early so you can go home and sort through your new wardrobe. ”
Her mouth opened slightly in protest.
“I’ve already sent the rest of your clothing to your home,” he added smoothly, as if he anticipated her reaction. “I hope you don’t mind.”
She did mind. Except… she really didn’t.
Because, of course, Dimitri De Luca didn’t ask—he dictated. He had single-handedly reshaped her career, her office, and now her wardrobe, and somehow, all she could do was stand there like an idiot, letting it happen.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, her tone stubborn, but her fingers betrayed her as they brushed over the fine wool of her dress.
She shouldn’t love this dress. Shouldn’t let herself be seduced by the feel of high-quality fabric against her skin. But it was soft. Luxurious. It fit her perfectly.
And it was all hers.
No one else had worn it before. It wasn’t something she’d chosen off a thrift store rack pretending she didn’t care that someone else had owned it first.
“You will,” he agreed and, for some reason, that declaration made her swell with pride. “I’ll leave you to unpack and get settled.”
The moment she was alone again, she turned back to the single, sad little box sitting on her desk. It was just a box. Just a handful of things she had carried from one job to the next, nothing special. And yet, it suddenly felt like something far more damning.
She had lived her entire life waiting.
Waiting for the next crisis. The next guilt trip.
The next demand from her family, the next moment she would have to scrape together her savings to bail her father out of jail after yet another bar fight, or pay off another of his overdue bar tabs.
Waiting for the inevitable call that her brother was locked up again, or had overdosed again, or needed money.
And all this time, she had convinced herself that living small was the solution.
Because if she made herself smaller, maybe they would need less.
If she lived under the radar, if she kept her head down, if she didn’t dare try for more, then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have to give so much of herself away.
But Dimitri had seen through all of it, and that terrified her. Because now, she couldn’t unsee it either.