LOST IN HIS ARMS

CHAPTER TWO — BLINDED BY RAGE

JARED’s POV

The conference room was silent except for the drone of my own frustration. The glass walls reflected the sterile perfection of AstraTech headquarters and, more cruelly, my own fury. Across the table, three supposed partners smirked, talking over each other, as if they understood the nuances of a deal I’d spent months crafting.

“No. That’s not acceptable,” I snapped, slamming my palm on the table. “I don’t negotiate with incompetence. You’re not here to haggle—you’re here to deliver!” My voice bounced off the glass walls, echoing sharply.

One of them coughed, nervous, but their smirk didn’t vanish. Another leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, challenging me. That was it. My blood boiled.

I stood abruptly, chair scraping across the floor. “Do you have any idea how much is riding on this?” I growled, teeth gritted. “I don’t have time to babysit anyone!”

The partners flinched, murmuring excuses. I didn’t care. My chest was a tight knot of anger, grief, and exhaustion, each second in this room a reminder of the life I had shut down years ago. I didn’t have patience. I didn’t have time.

I worked my ass getting AstraTech to the glory it is, and now some incompetent fools are going to do what?

What kind of staff delivers laptops and iPads to an unidentified company? I asked myself.

“I want this mess fixed by tomorrow morning. It's either my devices are returned or I get to see my money. If not, you fools had better start looking for a new job and I can guarantee you that I'll make it very hard for you to find any," I said.

I walked out of the meeting before it ended, leaving them stunned. My office, normally a sanctuary of order, felt suffocating. Screens glowed coldly, papers neatly stacked. I hated perfection. I hated the routine. It reminded me of everything I had lost and how I had failed to protect it.

“Mr Ashton, you have a lunch meeting with DG corporations in an hour”, Janet my secretary, called out to me as I approached my car.

“Do I look like I'm in the f*****g mood for a f*****g lunch?, cancel it.” I barked at Janet.

The lunch would only aggravate my anger, that deadbeat Daniel Gray, the CEO of DG, has been finding ways to get me and his daughter together, let him go to hell.

I left AstraTech without another word, letting the city blur past my tinted windows. The highway stretched ahead, dark and winding. Pine trees lined the road as I drove faster than I should, my mind replaying the meeting, my rage mixing with the ache of my solitude. No laughter, no warmth, no presence of home. Only me. Only the ache of a life I couldn’t reclaim.

Moments like this make me miss my family — my wife Grace and my daughter Lily. Only Grace knew the right words to say when I was in a foul mood and, believe me, I was always in a foul mood.

To hell with everything and everyone, damn my staff, damn DG corporations and damn that f**k-face son of a b***h that took my family from me.

I wasn't even looking at the road, this was the mountains, it was my road, and it was very rare to see anyone moving in this direction.

And then—her.

A small, trembling figure, stepping into the road as though the world had stopped for her. My pulse spiked. Reflexes took over before my mind could even process it. I slammed on the brakes. Tires screamed. Heart hammering.

She didn’t move fast enough.

Impact.

I had hit her with my car.

There was silence, save for the ragged beating of my own heart.

She was on the ground, small, fragile, shaking. Dark hair plastered onto her tear-streaked face. There was blood coming out of her head. I didn’t know her. I didn’t know her name. And yet… the sight of her, lost and terrified, made my chest constrict in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

“She’s alive,” I muttered, checking her pulse and fumbling for my phone. My hands moved on autopilot, yet I couldn’t stop staring at her face—the vulnerability, the fear, the unspoken trust.

I lifted her gently, careful not to hurt her further, carrying her to my car. Her body felt impossibly light, almost fragile. And at that instant, my carefully constructed fortress of emotional walls wavered. Something unnameable stirred—concern, responsibility, the tiniest spark of fascination.

She murmured incoherently, eyes fluttering as consciousness slipped in and out. I caught a glimpse of her face and felt a strange pull in my chest. She was no accident.

And as I started the car again, winding through the mountain roads, cold pine-scented air filling the car and, for the first time in years, I didn’t feel numb. I felt alive.

And that scared me more than I could admit.