Boardroom rules

Chapter nine

Maya

11:47 PM.

We were home.

Not the penthouse. Not the office.

Damien's brownstone in Brooklyn. The one no one knew about. No staff. No glass walls. Just brick, books, and a bed that didn't have a desk in it.

We were married.

Legally. Publicly. Irrevocably.

And I was terrified.

"Stop," Damien said.

I looked up. "Stop what?"

"Thinking." He took my face in his hands. "You've been thinking for six hours."

Because the press conference was a war. Because the board was furious. Because I was CEO of a company I never wanted to run.

Because I was Mrs. Hale.

"I don't know how to do this," I whispered.

"Do what?"

"Be your wife."

He smiled. Small. Real. Not CEO. Just Damien.

"Good," he said. "Because I don't know how to be your husband."

That made me laugh.

It broke something in my chest.

"Come here," he said.

He led me to the bedroom. No lights except the city through the window.

He didn't touch me right away.

He just looked at me.

Like I wasn't a scandal. Or a CEO. Or a weapon.

Like I was Maya.

"Last night," he said. "I took you because I couldn't lose you."

"I know."

"This morning," he said. "I married you because I couldn't let them have you."

"I know."

"Tonight," he said. "I want you because I choose you."

My breath caught.

"Not the board. Not the company. Not the deal." His thumb brushed my cheek. "You."

I nodded. Because I couldn't speak.

He kissed me.

Slow.

No desperation. No clock. No silk tie.

Just his mouth on mine. Husband to wife.

My hands were on his shirt. The buttons again. Always the buttons.

He let me take them off.

He let me lead.

"Damien—"

"Mrs. Hale," he said against my mouth.

"Don't—"

"I will." He backed me to the bed. "Every time you say my name, I'm going to remind you whose you are."

"Yours," I said. Without thinking.

"Good girl."

He laid me down.

No tie. No restraints. No power play.

Just skin.

He knew my body now. From desks. From couches. From panic and choice.

Tonight he learned it.

Slow.

Mouth on my throat. Hands on my ribs. His weight careful, like I was something he didn't want to break.

"Look at me," he said.

I did.

"I love you," he said.

Not in the boardroom. Not for the cameras.

Here.

"I love you too," I said.

And I meant it.

He slid into me like he belonged there.

Because he did.

We moved together. No rush. No audience.

Just us.

The city was loud outside.

We were quiet.

When I broke, it wasn't with a name.

It was with his.

"Damien."

"Right here," he said. "I'm right here."

He followed after. Into me. Against me. Holding me like he'd never let go.

We stayed like that.

For a long time.

After, he pulled the blanket over us.

No talking.

He tucked my head under his chin.

"Maya?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't have to be CEO tomorrow."

"I do."

"You don't have to be anything tomorrow." His hand in my hair. "Except mine."

I closed my eyes.

For the first time in three weeks, I wasn't fighting.

I was home.

"Damien?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For breaking the rules."

He kissed my hair.

"Anytime, Mrs. Hale."

I fell asleep like that.

In his arms.

No board. No leak. No scandal.

Just us.

Rule #9 of the boardroom: Never sleep with the enemy.

He was no longer my enemy.

He was my husband.

And I was his.