Breaking The Rules

Chapter 8

Just when I was about dialing her number again, I stared at her contact name as if I could peer through the glass and watch the panic quietly tearing her apart from the inside out. A slow, dark wave of memory pulled me backward, dragging me into the past where this twisted obsession had truly taken deep, inescapable root.

Sandra and I hadn't just crossed paths yesterday.

I’d known her for what felt like an eternity, long before Tony's pristine little company became the center of this pathetic scandal.

The very first time I laid eyes on her was at a high-profile charity gala, a sea of glittering diamonds, champagne flutes, and desperate sycophants hanging onto my every word. Yet, amidst that entire room of polished pretenders, something about Sandra instantly set my nerves on fire.

She wasn't like the rest of the women who dripped off my arm or threw themselves into my orbit. She wasn't blinded by my wealth, intimidated by my connections, or remotely awed by the raw power I carried. In fact, she had looked right through me, barely bothering to spare me a courteous word.

That cold detachment had only made my hunger grow.

I eventually manufactured an excuse to drop by her boutique, following up with every classic play in the book: lavish dinners, rare gifts, effortless compliments.

She shot down every single attempt.

Sometimes politely, sometimes with a quiet, sharp look that made it crystal clear she had zero tolerance for my games.

And the absolute most infuriating part?

She was fiercely devoted to Tony Anderson, a man who, in my opinion, was too blind and stupid to realize what a f*****g prize he held in his hands.

I could still taste the sting of the last confrontation I'd had with her before his world started crumbling. She had stood her ground, looked me straight in the eyes, and told me in no uncertain terms that she would never be interested in anything I had to offer.

Any other man would have accepted the blow and walked away.

But I’ve never been good at losing. And I’m even worse at taking no for an answer.

Then came the rot inside her husband's company.

When whispers of the investigation, the altered documents, and the impending collapse of Tony's multi-million-dollar deal reached my desk, I didn't care at first. But the second I realized the collateral damage would crush Sandra, a golden opportunity dropped right into my lap.

I possessed the one thing Tony was bleeding out for: limitless, untraceable capital.

And in exchange for saving her husband's life, I could finally claim what she had denied me for years.

Her total surrender.

I leaned back into the plush leather of my executive chair, a grim, satisfied smile tugging at my lips. Perhaps fate wasn't so impartial after all.

I tapped her name on the screen again.

"Let's see how long that stubborn loyalty lasts, Sandra," I murmured to the empty room.

If she's rejecting my calls, she's probably not on the phone, or she's sitting right next to someone who can't be allowed to see my name flash across her screen.

I glanced down at the sleek gold watch on my wrist.

11:47 a.m.

She was undoubtedly locked in her boutique office by now, attending to customers or seeking comfort from the one person she trusted in her life.

My grip tightened around the phone as her name crossed my mind.

Deborah.

On the days the girl wasn't pulling shifts at the hospital, she practically lived at Sandra's store. It didn't take a genius to figure out where she was. And if she wasn't at the boutique, she’d be isolated in her apartment.

I knew she lived alone.

A cold idea took shape, it was time to apply pressure from every angle.

I reached for the intercom and pressed the line. Within seconds, the heavy door clicked open and Magnus stepped inside, his posture rigid.

"Sir?" he asked, his voice low but professional.

"With the information I have right now, Sandra's best friend should be away from her apartment right now," I said, my voice smooth as silk.

Magnus raised an eyebrow, picking up the tone instantly. "Operation?"

"Yes. Use what we have to make her uncomfortable," I instructed, leaning forward across the desk. "Nothing loud. Nothing that draws the police. Just a subtle shadow to make her feel guilty."

"Understood, sir."

I held his gaze for a second, letting the silent order sink in. He gave a sharp nod and exited, the latch clicking softly behind him.

Once I was alone again, I brought up Sandra's chat window and began typing, my pulse quickening with pure anticipation.

“Hey, baby girl. You really think ignoring my calls is going to freeze the clock? Your husband's time is bleeding out, second by second. I know you're sitting there taking comfort from that hypocrite you call a best friend. If you only knew what she’s been doing behind your back …”

I re-read the words twice, savoring the poison dripping from every line. A dark smirk spread across my face as my thumb hovered over the screen.

I pressed send.