OWNED BY MR. MANRIQUIZ [THAT RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE]

I always believed that lines should never be crossed. Especially in the corporate world—rules, ethics, and reputations were everything. But tonight, as I sat on the edge of Mr. Darious Manriquiz’s bed, with his soft breathing filling the silence, I knew I had crossed every line I swore I wouldn’t. The city lights spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting his room in shades of gold and silver. He stood by the glass wall earlier, his tie loosened, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, looking every bit like the man women whispered about at work. Ruthless. Brilliant. Untouchable. And yet, tonight, he was anything but untouchable. “Callie,” he said my name like a quiet command, one that didn’t need repeating. His voice had that low, velvety tone I could never resist. I had been his secretary after Lexi had that accident. I knew how his mind worked better than anyone… I guess? —how he hated mistakes, how he loved his coffee black, how he would run his fingers through his hair when he was annoyed. I knew him professionally. But this side of him? This warmth? This fire? This was something new. The night started innocently enough. A late meeting. Wine sent to his office by a client. We sat side by side, talking about work, laughing more than we should have. But the way his eyes lingered on me that night felt different—like he wasn’t just seeing his secretary anymore. And I… I didn’t stop him. When he reached for my hand, I felt the world blur. His fingers brushed mine lightly at first, as if asking permission. Then, his hand closed around mine, firm and sure. The look in his eyes said everything he didn’t voice out loud. “Are you sure about this?” I whispered, my heartbeat betraying how unsure I was. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against my cheek. “I’ve been sure for a long time,” he said, his tone rougher than usual, filled with something I couldn’t quite name. And then he kissed me. It wasn’t wild or hurried, not at first. It was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to memorize the taste of me. His lips moved against mine, soft but demanding, and when his hand cupped my face, I felt something crack open inside me. All the years of professionalism, of pretending I didn’t notice how dangerously attractive he was, came undone with that kiss. I kissed him back. Harder than I intended. Maybe because I was tired of holding back, tired of pretending I wasn’t drawn to him. He pulled me closer, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. It was just us—the cold city night behind the glass, and the heat building between us. When we finally broke the kiss, I was breathless. My hands were on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under his shirt. He looked at me like he was trying to memorize every detail of my face. “You’re beautiful,” he said simply. I almost laughed. Darious Manriquiz, the man who gave compliments as rarely as rain in summer, just called me beautiful. But there was no room for laughter, not with the way he looked at me. His hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me closer, and before I could think of another reason to stop this madness, his lips found mine again. The rest of the night blurred into warmth and whispered names. His touch wasn’t hurried; it was careful, almost reverent, as if he was afraid I would disappear. I found myself laughing softly at one point, my forehead against his, and he smiled—a real smile, not the sharp business grin he wore for clients. When we finally lay there, tangled in sheets and silence, I stared at him, memorizing the way the moonlight kissed the sharp lines of his jaw. His hand was still holding mine, as if he didn’t want to let go. “You’ll regret this,” I murmured, not sure if I was warning him or myself. He opened his eyes and looked at me with that steady gaze of his. “No,” he said firmly, almost too firmly. “I don’t regret anything about tonight.” I wanted to believe him. But as I stared at him, a part of me knew this night would change everything. Tomorrow, we’d be back in the office—him in his crisp suit, me behind my desk pretending this never happened. But tonight… tonight, we weren’t boss and secretary. We were just two people who gave in to something we couldn’t fight anymore. I closed my eyes, trying to imprint the feel of his hand against mine, his warmth beside me. Because deep down, I knew that when the sun rose, this night would be a secret we’d never be able to speak of again. At least, that’s what I told myself as I drifted into sleep, my head resting against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Because what terrified me most wasn’t the secret, or the scandal if anyone found out. What terrified me most… was that I didn’t want this to be just one night.