Hazel:The Editor
1336 Words
The peace from the night before was a lie. I woke up with the ache of a hangover, though the wine was not the cause.I had let my guard down with Archer, in the dark.Until the lines of our contract blurred. For a few hours, I had forgotten I was something he'd bought. No different than the vintage Rolls Royce in his garage.
The marble counter in the kitchen felt like a slab of glacier ice against my forearms. I pulled the sleeves of my pajamas down, trying to hide inside the soft satin. It was the kind of fabric that cost more than reason could justify, but it offered no warmth against the morning air.
Gail marched in, her spine a steel rod of disapproval. She did not bring a tray or a polite greeting. She slid a tablet across the stone, the glass clicking with a finality that made my pulse stutter.
"He is in the study, Miss James," Gail said. Her voice lacked its usual snap. There was a pity there that made my skin crawl. "I debated withholding this, but you should see the damage before the rest of the world finishes their breakfast."
The headline was a scream in black ink: FROM RAGS TO RICHES: THE CALCULATED CLIMB OF ARCHER HAYES’S NEW FIANCÉE.
Nausea rolled through me, slow and bitter. Rosetta. It had to be here. It had her scent all over it—stagnant and cruel.
The article tore into me with a surgeon’s precision. It called me a "destitute auditor" and a "parasite" who targeted the city's most untouchable bachelor. It brought up Vance & Partners, dragging the corpse of my reputation out of the grave and parading it for the city to see. It said my morals were as cheap as my bank account.
The tablet felt weighty in my hands. The memories of the rain, the cardboard box, and Vince’s smirk came back, sharp enough to draw blood. I had spent years building a name that was worth something. Now, I was a gold-digger who used a sob story to trap a billionaire.
I stood up, the barstool scraping the floor. I headed for the foyer, intending to find Archer, but a commotion at the front doors stopped me. Through the glass, I saw a girl.
She looked barely twenty, her coat thin against the morning mist and her eyes swollen from crying. One of Archer’s security men held her back, his hand a wall against her chest.
"Please," she sobbed. The sound rang high inside the hall, raw and desperate.
"I only want to talk to Miss James. My father... he has been with that paper for thirty years. He only printed what he was told. Please do not let Mr. Hayes do this!"
The security guard blinked, unmoved. He was as cold as a statue in a suit.
"Let her go," I said, my voice cracking as I reached the door.
The guard looked at me, then back at the girl.
"Orders are no one gets through, Miss James."
"I am the one she wants to see." I stepped onto the porch, the cold air biting at my skin through the thin satin.
"What happened?"
"He bought the company," the girl gasped, clutching at my arm. Her fingers were shaking, her grip frantic.
"My father was fired this morning,hours ago. No severance. They told him he is cut from every paper in Manhattan. We have a mortgage... my brother is in school. Please. He is a good man. He did not mean any harm. He was told the lead came from the Hayes family."
I looked at her, and I saw myself five years ago. The same desperation. The same feeling of the world vanishing beneath my feet. Except I did not have a billionaire to blame. I only had a monster. Now, I was living with one.
"I will talk to him," I whispered, pulling my arm back.The guilt a stone in my throat.
The doors to the study were ajar. It seemed a storm would break out any second. Archer stood like a shadow against the windows, the morning light framing the broadline of his shoulders. He held his phone to his ear, his jaw a locked line.
"I want the assets broken up by the end of the week," he said. His voice was a low, smooth rasp.
"Find the editor’s home address. I want the legal team to file for libel damages. Strip him of every cent. I want him on the street."
He ended the call and tossed the phone onto the desk. He did not turn around. He knew I was there.
"You bought a media group to fire one man," I said, my voice rising. The trauma of my own firing flared hot in my chest.
He turned then. The man from last night—the one who chuckled over tax penalties—was gone. This was the CEO. The shark. "I bought a liability and removed it."
"His daughter was at your gate, Archer. She was crying. She was begging for mercy for a man who was only doing his job." I stepped fully into the room, crossing my arms.
"You destroyed a man's livelihood and blacklisted him. Do you know what that does to a person? To have a powerful man wave his hand and erase their life?"
"His job was dragging your name through the gutter to sell ad space," Archer stated, his tone flat. "He made his choice. He suffers the consequence."
"It was Rosetta! You are using your billions to bully people because you cannot control her. I never asked for this. I never asked you to ruin families on my behalf."
The temperature in the room plummeted. Archer did not speak for three long seconds. Then, he moved.
Stalking me like a predator and closing the gap with a grace that made my heart stop. I backed up, my heel catching on the rug, until I hit the edge of a leather armchair.
He stepped into my space, removing any chance of escape and he kept coming until I had to tilt my head back to see him. His scent—cedar and scotch—filled my senses, making my head spin.
"Bully," he repeated. The word was a dangerous purr against my skin.
His hands found my waist,large and unyielding. The heat of his palms burned through my top, a shock that traveled straight to my toes. It did not hurt, but the dominance in his grip was paralyzing.
"You think I care about an editor's career?" he whispered, leaning down until his mouth was inches from my ear. His breath ghosted over my neck, making my pulse jump.
"You think I give a damn about a gossip column?"
"Archer—" I breathed, my voice trembling.
"Listen to me, Hazel," he interrupted, his voice a vibrating rumble against my skin. He pulled back, forcing me to look into his eyes. They were dark, consumed by a fierce possessiveness that made my lungs fail.
"You never seem to notice but I watched your face when you read that tablet. I watched the color drain out of you.."
His thumbs slowly stroked the sides of my waist, between his touch and his tone I was conflicted. My brain numb.
"You belong to me for this year," Archer stated. His gaze dropped to my mouth before snapping back to my eyes..
"You wear my ring. You live in my house. And I protect mine. If someone crosses you, I will buy the ground they stand on and burn it to ash. I will ruin anyone who tries to drag you down. Never question me again."
He held my gaze for a long, breathless moment, the tension humming in the air between us. Then, he let go. The loss of his heat left me shivering. He turned and walked out of the study, leaving me alone with a heart that would not stop yelling.
- Writer
