CHAPTER EIGHT—- The Enemy’s Smile
1160 Words
Annie’s POV
I didn’t know freedom could taste so bitter.
The flight back was quieter than the one that brought us here. Jackson barely spoke, his attention fixed on his tablet, his jaw tight like he was holding something back. I stayed silent too, watching clouds slide past the window and wondering how many choices had been taken from me without my permission.
When we landed, I felt it immediately.
The shift.
The air around Jackson changed the moment his feet touched American soil. He straightened, rolled his shoulders, slipped back into the version of himself the world feared and admired. Whatever conflict he’d carried on the trip stayed behind.
Or so I thought.
The car ride home was tense. He didn’t touch me. Didn’t even look at me. That should have been a relief.
It wasn’t.
⸻
Rovers Enterprises buzzed with activity the next morning. The building felt louder than before, like it knew something was coming.
Lilian was waiting when we arrived.
She looked flawless as always—sharp suit, red lips, eyes that missed nothing. Her gaze flicked to me, then to Jackson, lingering a second too long.
“You’re back earlier than expected,” she said.
“Plans changed,” Jackson replied curtly.
Her smile widened. “That’s unfortunate. We were scheduled to receive a guest today.”
Jackson paused. “What guest?”
She tilted her head, enjoying this. “Kenneth McLaren.”
The name hit me like a slap.
My breath caught, my fingers curling instinctively. I hadn’t seen Kenneth since before the contract. Since before my life turned into a cage with satin sheets.
Jackson’s expression didn’t change, but I felt it—the way the temperature in the room dropped.
“Why is he here?” Jackson asked.
“Joint investors’ forum,” Lilian replied smoothly. “You approved the schedule last quarter.”
Jackson cursed under his breath.
I stayed quiet, my heart pounding so loud I was sure they could hear it.
Kenneth McLaren.
Jackson’s sworn enemy.
And the man I never quite stopped thinking about.
⸻
The meeting room filled quickly. Executives, investors, legal teams. Power and money sitting shoulder to shoulder.
Then Kenneth walked in.
He was taller than I remembered, broader, dressed in effortless confidence. His smile was lazy, dangerous—the kind that knew exactly what it did to people.
And then his eyes found mine.
Shock flashed across his face for half a second before it smoothed into something unreadable.
Annie?
The unspoken question hung between us.
Jackson noticed.
He always did.
“Sit,” Jackson muttered to me.
I obeyed.
Kenneth took the seat directly across the table from us. Too close. Far too close.
“This is unexpected,” Kenneth said, his voice smooth. “Didn’t know you’d expanded your… entourage, Rovers.”
Jackson’s lips twitched. “Didn’t know you still enjoyed wasting time in rooms you don’t belong in.”
Kenneth chuckled. “Careful. Arrogance gets expensive.”
Their words clashed like blades, sharp and polished. The room tensed as if everyone sensed it.
Kenneth’s gaze flicked back to me, softer this time. Curious.
“Annie, isn’t it?” he asked.
Jackson’s hand tightened on the table.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
Kenneth smiled. “You look… different.”
Jackson leaned back. “She’s not here to socialize.”
“No,” Kenneth agreed slowly. “But she’s here for a reason.”
His eyes lingered on me longer than necessary.
I felt exposed. Seen.
And Jackson felt it too.
⸻
The meeting ended with forced smiles and unresolved tension. As people filtered out, Kenneth lingered.
“Annie,” he said casually. “It’s good to see you again.”
Jackson stepped between us. “She’s busy.”
Kenneth’s gaze never left mine. “I imagine she always is.”
Jackson grabbed my wrist and pulled me away.
Hard.
We didn’t speak until we were inside Jackson’s private office, the door slamming shut behind us.
“What the hell was that?” he snapped.
“I didn’t do anything,” I said, my pulse racing.
“You looked at him.”
“I breathed,” I shot back. “Would you prefer I stopped doing that too?”
His jaw clenched. “Don’t provoke me.”
“Then stop acting like you own my eyes.”
The silence that followed was dangerous.
“You know who he is,” Jackson said slowly. “You know what he represents.”
“Yes,” I replied. “I also know he didn’t buy me.”
The words landed harder than I expected.
Jackson stared at me like I’d struck him.
“Careful,” he warned.
“I’m tired of being careful,” I said, my voice shaking. “I didn’t ask to be part of your war.”
He stepped closer. “You became part of it the moment you signed.”
“No,” I said quietly. “I became part of you.”
His expression faltered.
Just for a second.
⸻
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
Kenneth’s presence had stirred something dangerous inside me—a reminder of who I used to be, of a life where choices were mine.
I heard a knock at my door.
Soft. Careful.
I opened it to find Jackson standing there, his face unreadable.
“You knew him,” he said.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Before you,” I answered.
The truth sat between us, heavy and undeniable.
“You don’t look at me the way you looked at him,” Jackson said quietly.
“That’s because you don’t look at me the way he did.”
“And how did he look at you?” he asked.
“Like I wasn’t owned.”
The words cracked something open.
Jackson stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“You want him?” he asked bluntly.
“I want myself,” I replied.
He laughed bitterly. “You think he’d give you freedom? Men like him take too. Just with prettier words.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But he wouldn’t lock me in a cage.”
Jackson moved closer, his voice low. “You don’t know what cages look like until you’re desperate to stay in one.”
His hand brushed my waist, hesitant.
“You’re slipping away,” he said.
“Maybe,” I replied. “Or maybe you’re finally seeing me.”
His grip tightened.
That night, he didn’t touch me.
And somehow, that hurt more than everything else.
⸻
Across the city, in a quiet office overlooking the skyline, Kenneth McLaren stood by the window, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Annie Hawkings,” he murmured.
He picked up his phone and dialed a number.
“Find out everything about her,” he said. “And don’t miss a thing.”
The game had begun.
And I was no longer just a piece on the board.
- Writer
