BOUND BY DESIRE

CHAPTER THREE

The elevator doors slid open with a metallic hiss, spilling out a gust of chilled air that carried the faint scent of leather, steel, and something faintly musky that screamed expensive cologne. Emma stepped inside, clutching her tote bag tighter against her chest like it was armor. She pressed the button for the ground floor, praying she could get through this ride without running into anyone she wanted to avoid.

But the universe had other plans.

He was already there.

John Snow leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator, his broad frame looking too big for the confined space. He wasn’t scrolling on his phone like a normal man would be. No he was watching her the moment the doors opened, like he had been waiting for her. His gaze traveled over her with slow calculation, the way a predator studies prey before deciding whether to pounce.

Her stomach dropped. “You again,” she muttered under her breath, though the space was too quiet for him not to hear it.

The corner of his mouth ticked upward, not quite a smile. “What a coincidence.”

She wasn’t convinced it was coincidence at all. Something about the way he stood there, too still, too certain, made her think he had been expecting her.

The doors closed with a heavy clunk, sealing them inside. The elevator hummed as it descended, but to Emma, the air felt thick, pressing against her lungs. She fixed her eyes on the glowing numbers above the doors, refusing to look at him, though she could feel the weight of his gaze on her skin.

“You didn’t call me,” John said suddenly. His voice was smooth, but it carried a quiet authority that made her shoulders stiffen.

She whipped her head around. “Why would I?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Because you need me. And because, whether you like it or not, I’m the only one who can fix this for you.”

Emma’s grip on her bag tightened until her knuckles ached. She hated how close his words came to the truth. Rent overdue. Bills stacked on her tiny kitchen table. Her mother’s medications running out with no refill in sight. She had been thinking about his offer far more than she wanted to admit. But admitting it out loud? Never.

“You think money is the answer to everything,” she snapped. “But you don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

John slipped his phone into his pocket, pushing off the wall. The movement was slow, deliberate, closing the distance between them. The mirrored walls reflected him from every angle, making the space feel even smaller, trapping her with him.

“Then enlighten me,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “What exactly are you capable of, Emma?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to tell him to back off, to shove him away, but her body betrayed her. Her pulse raced, heat flaring under her skin, and the intensity of his stare made her feel like he could see straight through her defenses.

Before she could gather her words, the elevator jolted violently. The lights flickered once, twice, then went black. Emma stumbled, her heart leaping into her throat as the sudden darkness swallowed them. Her hand slapped against the cold wall, desperate for balance.

“Perfect,” she muttered, panic rising sharp in her chest. “Just perfect.”

In the pitch black, his voice came steady, controlled. “Calm down. It’s just a power delay. Backup will kick in.”

Her breathing came too fast, too shallow. She hated small spaces. Hated feeling trapped. “Easy for you to say,” she hissed, pressing her back against the wall.

Something warm wrapped around her wrist his hand. His grip was firm, grounding, and his thumb brushed against her skin in a way that made her heart stumble. “Breathe,” John commanded. “You’re not the type to break down over an elevator.”

Her jaw clenched. “You don’t know what type I am.”

His silence in the dark was somehow louder than words. She could feel him there, close, his body heat radiating through the chilled air. For a moment, it wasn’t panic that had her chest tightening it was something else, something far more dangerous.

The emergency lights buzzed back to life, filling the elevator with a dim red glow. Shadows clung to the sharp angles of his face, making him look almost otherworldly. He hadn’t let go of her wrist.

Emma jerked her hand free, her cheeks burning. “Do you always enjoy cornering people like this?”

His lips curved faintly, his gaze locked on her. “Only when they’re worth cornering.”

Her stomach flipped, half with irritation, half with something she didn’t dare name.

The elevator shuddered again, then the lights blazed back to their usual brightness. The doors slid open with a ding, and Emma bolted out, her heels clicking sharply against the marble of the lobby. She needed space. Air. Distance.

But his footsteps followed, steady and unhurried, like he knew she couldn’t outrun him.

“Wait,” he called, his voice carrying the kind of command that made people obey whether they wanted to or not.

Emma ignored him, weaving past a couple of businessmen in suits. But he caught up with her easily, his hand brushing her elbow just enough to make her stop. She spun around, fire flashing in her eyes.

“What do you want from me, John?”

For the first time, his expression softened, almost imperceptibly. Then he leaned down, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “A contract.”

Her brow furrowed. “A what?”

From inside his jacket, he pulled out a sleek black folder and pressed it into her hands before she could protest. The leather felt heavy, the papers inside crisp.

“Read it,” he said calmly. “And then tell me no.”

She stared at the folder, her fingers tightening around it. Her pulse hammered so loudly she could barely hear herself speak. “What kind of contract?”

His eyes gleamed, unblinking. “Marriage.”

The word landed like a thunderclap. Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out.

Marriage?

She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. This had to be some kind of twisted joke. She shook her head slowly, the lobby blurring around her.

“You’re insane,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

John leaned closer, his cologne wrapping around her senses, his voice low and controlled. “No. I’m very sane. And I don’t make offers I don’t intend to see through.”

Her heartbeat was wild, slamming against her ribs. People moved around them in the lobby, but Emma felt like the world had narrowed to just him, to the heavy folder in her hands, to the impossible word he had just thrown at her.

“Why me?” she managed to whisper.

His jaw flexed, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that left her dizzy. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Emma clutched the folder like it might burn her fingers, her mind spinning with disbelief and fear and something else she didn’t want to name.

John leaned back slightly, giving her just enough space to breathe again. But his final words sent another shiver down her spine.

“You need money. I need a wife. The question is…” His gaze locked onto hers, unrelenting. “Are you brave enough to play this game with me?”

Her chest rose and fell too quickly, her hands trembling against the folder.

And just like that, the floor beneath her no longer felt steady.