CHAPTER 2
783 Words
The elevator doors slid open on the top floor like the gates of a cage.
My heels echoed down the empty corridor. No assistants. No security. Just the low thrum of money and menace.
I didn’t knock. I pushed the double doors open.
Anderson stood at the windows, back to me, city lights glittering below like he owned every single one. Black shirt, sleeves rolled, glass of whiskey untouched in his hand. The air felt thinner up here. Harder to breathe.
“Lock it,” he said without turning.
The click of the lock sounded too loud.
He finally faced me.
Up close he was worse than the legends. Sharp cheekbones. Eyes the color of midnight oil—beautiful, bottomless, and utterly without mercy. This was the man who had taken a failing empire at twenty-four and turned it into a global machine that crushed anyone who stood in his way. They said he’d once burned an entire rival company to the ground just to send a message. No arrests. No scandals. Just ashes.
“You don’t remember,” he stated flatly.
My throat went dry. “No.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw—the only crack in the ice. “Pity. I remember every second.”
He crossed the room in three slow steps. Not close enough to touch. Close enough that I felt the heat rolling off him.
“I don’t go to Red Town. Ever.” His voice dropped. “Tuesday night I was there for one reason only. Viktor Kane. The Russian who’s been circling my European ports for six months. He wanted a face-to-face in neutral territory. Thought the club would make him feel safe.” A cold smile ghosted across his lips. “It didn’t.”
He reached out and brushed a stray hair from my cheek. The touch was feather-light, but it burned.
“Then I saw you. Drunk. Reckless. Letting that filth put his hands where they didn’t belong.” His fingers lingered at my jaw. “I ended the meeting early. Kane left in a body bag of regret. And you… you danced like you were daring the whole world to try and take you from me.”
My heart hammered so hard I was sure he could hear it.
“I’m not yours,” I said, voice steady even as my knees weakened.
His eyes flared. “You became mine the second you moaned my name against my neck.”
Heat flooded my face. “I was wasted. It was one night.”
“It was the night I decided to stop pretending I didn’t want you.” He stepped closer, backing me against the edge of his massive desk. “From now on, you don’t leave this building without telling me. You don’t go anywhere I can’t reach you. And you sure as hell don’t let another man touch what I’ve already claimed.”
I shoved a hand against his chest. Solid. Unmoving. “You’re insane if you think I’ll agree to that.”
His hand covered mine, pressing it harder against his heart. “Try me.”
My phone buzzed violently on the desk behind me.
Once. Twice.
I glanced down.
Liam: Hey, heard some wild rumors about last night. You okay? I’m downstairs in the lobby if you need a ride home. No questions. Just say the word.
Liam. My friend since university. The one who always showed up, always listened, always made me laugh when the world got too heavy. Safe. Normal.
Anderson’s gaze flicked to the screen. Something lethal flickered behind his eyes—there and gone so fast I almost missed it.
He picked up my phone before I could stop him, read the message, and set it back down with deliberate calm.
“Tell your friend you won’t be needing that ride.” His voice was soft. Deadly soft. “You’re staying right here until I say otherwise.”
The door to his office burst open without a knock.
The same dangerous man from earlier strode in, phone in hand. “Sir. The Red Town footage is everywhere. Social media is exploding. They’re calling her ‘the girl who broke the Ice King.’”
Anderson didn’t look away from me.
His next words came out like a vow wrapped in threat.
“Let them talk. The city can watch all it wants.”
He leaned in until his lips brushed my ear.
“But they’ll learn soon enough… what happens when someone tries to take what belongs to me.”
My phone buzzed again.
Liam.
And for the first time, the safe, normal world I’d built felt like it was about to catch fire.
- Writer
