Mine To Claim

Chapter-7

Anna

I couldn’t believe it had already been two weeks since I started this job.

Somewhere between learning Liam’s favorite bedtime story and figuring out which hallway led where, this place had stopped feeling unfamiliar. And without me realizing when it happened, it had become the best thing that had happened to me in years.

Liam was still shy, but time had softened him. He smiled more easily now, spoke in full sentences instead of half-formed thoughts, and once, when he thought no one was watching, laughed so hard he tipped backward. He no longer sat by the window in the evenings. That alone felt like a victory I carried quietly in my chest.

I still hadn’t spoken to him about his parents. I knew I would have to. Grief didn’t disappear just because it was avoided. But timing mattered. He needed to feel safe first, safe enough to say their names without his voice breaking.

The house itself never felt dull. It was too large, too elegant, almost unreal. I was sure I still hadn’t explored half of it. Martha, who ran the place with gentle authority, had taken me under her wing like I belonged there. She reminded me of my Aunt Mary, may god bless her soul, warm, sharp-eyed, endlessly patient. We gardened together when Liam napped, our hands buried in soil, and in the afternoons she taught me recipes I’d never tasted before.

For the first time in years, I felt stable.

The feeling wrapped around me like a warm blanket, something I didn’t want to let go of. With almost no expenses, I could finally save for tuition. I even had time to catch up on my reading. It felt balanced. Like my life had stopped tilting for once.

Even Walton’s infamous schedule, the intimidating list he’d handed me on my first day had turned out to be manageable. Liam was a fast learner, and when he wasn’t, he was enthusiastic enough to make up for it.

And yes, I called him Walton now.

Not Mr. Walton.

Not David.

Just Walton.

He’d insisted that I use his first name, but that felt dangerously personal for someone who already occupied far too much space in my thoughts. Walton felt safer. Neutral. Professional.

Or at least, that was the excuse I gave myself.

Because the truth was… my little crush had turned into a very real problem.

I blame the phone calls. We talked every day.

At first, the calls were strictly about Liam, me reporting meals eaten, moods observed, tiny milestones reached. Somewhere along the way, those conversations stretched. It started with me asking how his day was. At first his response was a few sentences but then it started to strech. Ten minutes became thirty. Thirty became an hour once.

It felt effortless. Comfortable. Like talking to someone who already knew the shape of my thoughts.

If someone had told me on my first day that I’d be laughing on the phone with David Walton every night, I would’ve laughed them out of the room. And yet here we were.

He wasn’t what I’d expected. He was intense, yes, but also dryly funny, observant, unexpectedly thoughtful. There was a softness there he never seemed aware of.

And tomorrow, he was coming back.

The thought made my stomach flip in a way I refused to examine too closely.

That evening, after putting Liam to bed and finishing up for the night, I curled up on the couch in the home theater with popcorn and ice cream. I tried to study, but my focus lasted all of ten minutes before my thoughts drifted back to him. Eventually, I gave up and pressed play on Friends instead.

Halfway through the episode, I heard a sound.

The lights were off. The house was quiet.

My heart jumped.

My mind raced. What if someone had gotten in? What if he has a weapon? My chest tightened. Liam was alone in his room.

I shoved the ice cream aside, grabbed the heavy decorative vase from the table, and turned toward the doorway, my pulse roaring in my ears.

The lights snapped on.

I screamed.

Strong hands caught my shoulders, steadying me, and a familiar voice cut through my panic.

“Anna, hey. It’s me.”

I blinked.

And there he was.

Walton stood a few feet away, suit jacket still on, tie loosened as if he’d tugged at it absentmindedly. His hair was slightly disheveled, his expression somewhere between amused and concerned.

“Please don’t kill me,” he said, lips twitching.

My grip loosened instantly. I lowered the vase, mortification flooding through me. “I..I thought you were a thief.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm. “You know we have three layers of security, right?”

“I know,” I muttered, suddenly very interested in the carpet.

“You were supposed to come tomorrow,” I added.

“I was,” he said easily, moving closer before dropping onto the couch. “Then I decided not to.”

I hesitated, then sat at the opposite end, leaving what I hoped was a reasonable amount of space between us. My body, unfortunately, seemed very aware of his presence.

“What are you watching?” he asked.

“Friends.”

He frowned slightly. “What’s it about?”

I stared at him. “You’ve never seen Friends?”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Please don’t hit me.”

Despite myself, I laughed. “You have to watch it.”

“Alright,” he said, settling back into the cushions. “Convince me.”

As the episode played, our laughter filled the room, easy, unguarded. He looked relaxed in a way I’d never seen before, one arm draped along the back of the couch, his posture loose.

It suited him.

Dangerously so.

I shifted slightly away, suddenly aware of how close he was, of the warmth radiating from him, of how easily I’d forgotten to be careful.

At some point, without realizing exactly when, I stopped thinking of him as my boss.

And that realization unsettled me far more than I was ready to admit.

******

Next Morning

I tried to move.

I couldn’t.

Something warm and heavy was draped over me, anchoring me in place. Still half-asleep, I shifted again, only to realize the weight wasn’t a blanket.

Light filtered in through the curtains, pale and soft. I blinked, my eyes slowly adjusting.

And then I froze.

I was wrapped around David.

His arm was secure around my waist, his legs loosely tangled with mine, pulling me close in a way that felt instinctive even protective. My cheek rested against his chest, rising and falling steadily beneath me. His face was only inches away, close enough that I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the relaxed curve of his mouth.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Up close, he looked different. Softer. Disarmed by sleep. My fingers, traitors, curled slightly against his shirt, feeling the solid warmth beneath it. I could feel his strength without effort, the quiet power of him even at rest.

Greek god flashed through my mind before I could stop it. Or worse, something forbidden.

His lips were so close.

Too close.

Heat bloomed low in my stomach, rushed through my veins, and I stiffened.

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn’t be happening.

Reality crashed back in all at once. He was my boss. David Walton. Liam’s guardian. A man entirely out of my reach.

I tried to carefully untangle myself, moving inch by inch, praying he wouldn’t wake. But the moment I shifted, his arm tightened reflexively, pulling me closer instead.

My breath caught.

“Please don’t,” I whispered to no one in particular.

After several failed attempts and a rising sense of panic, I resigned myself to the only option left.

“David,” I said softly.

His eyelids fluttered open.

And then he smiled.

Sleep-warmed and slow, the kind of smile that felt entirely too personal.

“Good morning, Anna,” he murmured. “I like the way you say my name.”

That was it.

I scrambled back in a blind rush, tripped over the edge of the couch, and landed hard on the floor with an undignified thud.

Pain shot up my back, but embarrassment burned worse.

"Anna, are you okay?"

I was halfway to my feet when the door opened.

Mark stood there.

Staring.

My face felt like it was on fire as I stood up.

Mark’s gaze flicked from me to Walton, whose expression had already shifted, walls sliding back into place.

“Ms. Rose has arrived,” Mark said carefully. “She’s waiting for you.”

Something in David’s face hardened instantly.

“I’ll be there,” he replied, already moving past me without a glance.

Like I didn't exist.

The sting was sharp and unexpected.

Mark lingered, watching me rub the back of my neck. “What was happening here?”

“Nothing, I came here looking Liam” I said too quickly. “And, I tripped.”

He didn’t look convinced, but thankfully, he didn’t push. “Right.”

I hesitated, then asked quietly, “Who is Ms. Rose?”

Mark’s expression softened. “Childhood friend. Their families go way back. Business partners too.”

“Oh,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just friends?”

He chuckled. “Everyone asks that. They look good together. One of those power couples, you know?”

My stomach dropped.

“Yeah,” I said lightly, though nausea churned in my chest.

Mark hesitated, then added, “Nothing official yet, but if rumors are true, they might announce their engagement at tomorrow’s party.”

The words landed like a blow.

I nodded, thanked him, and turned away before my face betrayed me.

Inside, something I hadn’t even realized I was holding onto quietly fell apart.