Chapter 8
1403 Words
The words hung in the air, a breath away from becoming a kiss that would shatter every professional barrier she’d tried so desperately to rebuild. His thumb stroked her jaw, a whisper of a touch that sent electric currents straight to her core. Tell me to stop.
Her lips remained parted, a silent invitation he was milliseconds from accepting. The scent of his cologne, that intoxicating mix of sandalwood and rain, filled her senses, clouding every rational thought. Her body arched infinitesimally closer, a traitorous movement that had nothing to do with her will and everything to do with the memory of his hands on her skin.
The sharp, jarring ring of her office phone splintered the moment like glass.
They jerked apart. Adrian’s eyes, dark and stormy with thwarted desire, narrowed in annoyance. Sophia fumbled backwards, her hip connecting sharply with the edge of her desk, the pain a grounding, welcome shock.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that felt like a physical touch.
“It’s… it’s probably my assistant,” she stammered, her hand fluttering to her throat where her pulse hammered against her fingers. The phone continued its insistent shrill. “I have to.”
He gave a curt, almost imperceptible nod, the mask of the ruthless tycoon sliding back into place, though the heat in his gaze didn’t fully dissipate. It was a promise of a conversation unfinished.
Sophia snatched the receiver. “Yes?” Her voice was too breathy, too high.
“Sophia? It’s Liam.” Adrian’s assistant’s smooth, efficient tone was a bucket of cold water. “Just confirming, Mr. Cole’s appointment with you in five minutes regarding the Ascendancy Gala debrief. And your 3 p.m. vendor call has been moved up. They’re on line two now.”
She closed her eyes, struggling for composure. Debrief. The word felt obscene. “Thank you, Liam. I’ll take the call.”
She hung up, unable to look at Adrian. “I have to take this. It’s urgent.”
“Of course.” He didn’t move. “Business before pleasure. I understand the priority.”
The double meaning was unmistakable. He finally took a step back, straightening his suit jacket with a tug that was pure power and control. “My meeting with you, however, is non-negotiable. Liam will send the details.”
Without another word, he turned and left, the door clicking shut with a finality that left her trembling. She stood there for a long moment, the air still crackling with his presence, before she mechanically picked up line two and conducted the most difficult call of her career, her mind a thousand miles away.
*
The next week was a masterclass in psychological warfare. Adrian didn’t try to corner her again, but he made his presence felt. A stunning arrangement of midnight-blue calla lilies arrived with no card, but she knew. He knew they were her favourite. Liam’s emails about the gala follow-up were impeccably professional, yet they always contained a seemingly casual postscript: “Mr. Cole was inquiring after your thoughts on the Bordeaux served that evening.” Or, “Mr. Cole noted your preference for classical piano and asked me to forward the playlist from the event.”
Every message was a ghost touch, a reminder of that night. She was constantly on edge, her body hyper-aware, every notification on her phone making her jump. She found herself working later, the empty office a sanctuary, yet her thoughts were louder in the silence.
It was during one of these late nights, as she absently sorted through her monthly planner, that the first cold trickle of dread seeped into her veins.
She stared at the dates, her finger tracing the small, discrete circle she’d drawn weeks ago. The circle that had come and gone. Her heart gave a single, hard thud against her ribs. No. It’s stress. The gala, the lack of sleep, Adrian… it’s just stress.
But the calculator in her mind was already whirring, adding and subtracting with ruthless efficiency. The penthouse. The unprotected, passionate, thoughtless night against the window. The math was horrifically simple. One plus one equalled a life-altering sum.
A wave of nausea, hot and sudden, washed over her. She gripped the edge of her desk, her knuckles turning white. It can’t be. She was careful. She was always so careful. But in the heat of that moment, with him, all caution had been incinerated.
The office door opened, and Chloe, the intern, breezed in, her energy a stark contrast to the frozen terror consuming Sophia. “Hey, just grabbing my charger! Working late again? You’re a machine, Sophia.”
Sophia forced a smile that felt like a crack in glass. “Just finishing up.”
“Okay, don’t stay too late! You look a little pale. Maybe you’re coming down with that bug that’s going around?” Chloe said, her voice full of youthful concern before she disappeared again.
A bug. The irony almost made her laugh, a hysterical bubble rising in her throat. She wasn’t sick. She was…
The word was too enormous, too terrifying to even form in her mind. She slid into her chair, her legs unable to support her anymore. This changed everything. Her career, her hard-won independence, her future. All of it vaporized by one night of unforgettable passion.
And Adrian. Oh god, Adrian. The man who conquered everything he wanted. The man who had already decided he wouldn’t let her go. What would he do when he found out? Would this be just another acquisition to him? A problem to be managed? Or worse, a triumph? He would own her completely.
Panic, cold and sharp, tightened around her chest like a vice. She had to know for sure. She couldn’t spiral on maybes.
Pulling her purse from the bottom drawer, her hands shook so violently she could barely undo the clasp. She found her wallet, her fingers fumbling past credit cards and receipts until they closed around it. The small, light cardboard box felt like a lead weight.
She stared at the pregnancy test, the promise of a plus or minus sign that would dictate the rest of her life. The silence of the office was deafening, broken only by the frantic drumming of her own heart. She stood on the precipice of knowing, and the world had never felt so fragile.
Taking a shuddering breath, she gathered the box in her trembling hand and stood up. The walk to the private restroom down the hall felt like a mile. Each step echoed her fear. She pushed the door open, the sterile white light humming overhead.
Locking the stall door behind her, she leaned her forehead against the cool metal, trying to steady her breathing. This was it. The moment that would divide her life into a before and after.
With fumbling fingers, she tore the box open. The plastic stick felt alien in her hand. She followed the instructions with a robotic precision, her mind blank except for a single, screaming thought: Please, no.
The wait was an eternity. She set the test on the edge of the sink, unable to hold it, and paced the small confines of the stall, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She counted the seconds, each one a lifetime. The memory of Adrian’s touch, the feel of him moving inside her, flashed behind her eyes with cruel clarity.
The timer on her phone chimed, a soft, cheerful sound that was utterly grotesque.
She froze, her blood turning to ice in her veins. I can’t look. I can’t.
But she had to. Forcing her feet to move, she turned toward the sink. Her eyes slowly, dreadfully, travelled down to the little plastic window.
And there it was.
The result.
Her breath caught in her throat, a sharp, painful gasp. The world tilted on its axis, the floor lurching beneath her feet. She reached out, grabbing the cold porcelain of the sink to keep from falling.
No. No, no, no.
A single, terrified tear escaped, tracing a hot path down her cheek. She was ruined. She was…
From the main office, she heard the distinct sound of the entrance door opening, followed by a voice that haunted her dreams and her waking hours. Adrian’s voice, deep and impatient, asking Liam a question she couldn’t quite make out.
He was here.
- Writer
