Chapter 6 - Beautiful Chaos
Mr. Holloway's POV
I don't like HR problems. Especially HR problems with a paper trail, screenshots, and timestamps.
I knew about this little affair, but I had no idea it would escalate to this. So when a judge, currently three strokes down on the back nine, leaned in and mentioned Lily Thompson’s arrest and the restraining order filed by my newest partner, I felt a curl of irritation.
I was also aware of her legal troubles with the Taylors. What I did not need was to hear about them from someone else.
This was not gossip. This was a liability. And HR kept their proverbial knives sharpened for exactly these moments.
I leaned back in my chair and propped my feet on the edge of the desk, the city skyline reflecting in the glass behind me.
I poured two fingers of scotch, the ice cracking as if it shared my mood.
Lily had always been volatile, but now she was a problem with paperwork attached. The firm could withstand a downturn in the market. It could survive a lawsuit. What it could not survive was scandal dressed in office attire.
I picked up my phone and dialed Matt. He answered on the second ring, his voice lined with exhaustion. “Mr. Holloway,” he said quickly.
“Taylor,” I replied, my tone clipped. “I don't like surprises. I especially don't like to learn about restraining orders against my employees from anyone other than my employees.”
His silence stretched. I could hear his breath low in the receiver.
“You need to understand something,” I continued. “The partnership comes with your name on the door. Which means your mess is now my mess. If you want to keep this position, you will keep your personal life from bleeding into my firm again. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” he said. The mix of relief and dread in his voice told me everything I needed to know. I couldn’t help the small, satisfied smirk that followed.
“Good. Now listen carefully. Later this week, I intend to have dinner with you and your wife. At your house. Make it happen. I want to see where Sarah’s head is on all of this.”
Matt exhaled hard. “Sarah is getting further and further away from me, sir. I don’t know if...”
“You do not have the luxury of not knowing,” I cut in. “You need to fix this with her. Quickly. And the two of you need to be a picture-perfect couple. That’s not advice. That’s survival.”
The silence stretched long enough to make me wonder if he’d hang himself with it. Then came the strained answer. “Yes, sir.”
“Until further notice, you’ll work from home,” I said. “A restraining order between two employees is a minefield I will not have detonating inside my building. Keep your distance from Thompson, and more importantly, keep my firm’s reputation clean.”
Matt hesitated, then answered, “Yes, sir. Maybe it’s for the best. Sarah and I… we’re trying to find some footing.”
“That’s your business,” I replied flatly. “Mine is making sure this never turns into a sexual harassment complaint tied to my firm. Do your work from home. Fix this with Sarah.”
I ended the call. Deals were not sealed in boardrooms. They were sealed on fairways, over bourbon, in whispers no one could subpoena, and built on the appearance of perfection. If Matt Taylor wanted to keep his career, he would have to learn that quickly.
He also needed to learn how to keep his extracurricular activities quiet.
Especially with Lily Thompson.
An activity I knew all too well. The highlight of my week had always been our Tuesday briefing sessions, when I bent her over my desk and fucked her until she would sweat the makeup off her face.
Everyone in the firm knew to leave my office alone between three and four. They thought we were aligning project priorities. In a way, we were.
Lily understood the rules better than anyone. She knew how to play her part, when to smile, when to close the blinds, and when to stop pretending it was about work. She liked power almost as much as I did, and that was what made her useful.
The moment she set her sights on Matt Taylor was the moment his marriage started circling the drain. He never stood a chance against her.
She knew how to weaponize beauty, how to use silence like bait, how to make a man believe the hunger was his idea.
Sarah Taylor was a respectable woman, but respectability didn't win wars like these.
This entire mess worked in my favor. I needed someone to open and run the Charleston office, and one way or another, it was going to be Matt. I would need to push the dates out until things calmed down.
I heard Lily before I saw her. The click of her heels carried through the hall, sharp and deliberate.
She approached my door wearing her lie as neatly as the tailored suit on her body. The skirt was short. Easy access. The smile on her lips told me she was ready when I was, but I liked making her wait. Power only mattered when you knew someone else felt it.
“Good morning, Mr. Holloway,” she purred.
I gave her a slow, disinterested nod. It hit the mark. Her smile faltered as she stepped farther into my office.
“Are you working on the quarterly projections or...”
I lifted a hand to silence her. “Not now, Ms. Thompson. We have time scheduled later in the day.”
Her mouth tightened, a flash of irritation breaking through the mask.
She turned, spine stiff, and walked away without another word.
It was only a few hours into the workday when curiosity, or maybe it was her strange obsession, got the best of her.
She must have walked to Matt’s office five, maybe six times.
Her out-of-character, pitiful knock on my door raked across my nerves like a screaming baby.
“Mr. Holloway, is Mr. Taylor out today? He hasn’t shown up yet.”
I took my time and typed out the rest of my email before I acknowledged her. When I finally looked up, the frustration on her face almost pulled a laugh out of me. How I contained myself was beyond me.
“Mr. Taylor’s whereabouts are none of your concern, Ms. Thompson. Besides, get used to him no longer being in the office.”
I could hear the change in her breathing. She stepped further into my office, a dumbfounded look spreading across her face.
“What?”
I stood. “Close the door, Ms. Thompson.”
She obeyed. I moved around the desk, slow and deliberate, my fingers curling into her hair. I pulled her head back, making her look up at me, her eyes locked to mine, filled with heat and submission.
“What, Ms. Thompson?” I asked, my voice low as it brushed against her ear.
She opened her mouth to speak, but I didn’t give her the chance. I guided her forward, bending her over the desk without hesitation. Her hands flattened against the polished surface, her breath catching as I stepped in behind her.
I took my time. One hand stayed on her while the other moved to my belt, unfastening it with a sharp pull. The zipper followed. The soft sound of fabric shifting filled the space between us.
I freed myself, already hard, already aching for her. Her skirt slid up easily beneath my fingers. She didn’t resist. She never did. We’ve always had an understanding. "No" is not a rejection; it’s a rescheduling.
“You’re always so ready for me. Are you still wondering where Matt is?” I asked, one hand firm on her hip while two fingers from the other glided easily inside her dripping core. God, she loved to be dominated.
She gave a small sound, but I didn’t care what she was trying to say.
I pressed into her slowly, letting her feel every bit of my control.
Her frustration faded with each movement.
I could feel it unraveling in her. Her breathing shifted.
I loved how her fingers clenched around the edge of the desk.
Her pride dissolved into the rhythm I set, and she began to push back into me.
“Maybe next time we will do this on his desk,” I said.
Her only answer was a quiet gasp as I made one last thrust and held it there, releasing inside of her.
By the time I pulled away, she was silent, her hair a mess, her skirt still riding high on her thighs. As I tucked my shirt in and fastened my pants, I moved away.
“That will be all, Ms. Thompson.”
She smoothed her skirt back into place, slow and deliberate, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. She knew I was watching her. That was the point. She thrived on the spectacle of control.
I adjusted my cuffs, saying nothing. She turned at the door, eyes meeting mine for a second, still smiling, the kind of smile that promised she would be right back here next Tuesday, bent over my desk.
Then she walked out, the tap of her heels sharp and satisfied. Exactly the way I wanted.
For the first time, I wondered if I had underestimated her. Power attracted chaos, and Lily Thompson was beautiful chaos that took down every man foolish enough to get entangled with her.