Page 60 of The Boss

No fight. No theatrics. Just a simple command. Because she knew I would listen.

I held her stare, my pulse hammering. “And if I don’t?”

She sighed and settled against the pillows, her expression unreadable. “I know you, Isaac. You burn too hot, too fast. You get restless. You need an outlet.” Her nails traced an idle pattern on the sheets. “And before the wedding, that was fine. But it’s one thing to let your fiancé blow off some steam—it’s another to have yourhusbandhumiliate you by keeping a side piece. We’re building something that’s supposed to last. I don’t have time for distractions, and neither do you.”

A warning wrapped in logic. A demand cloaked in reason.

She reached out, brushed her fingers over my wrist, her touch soft but calculated. “I need you to be steadfast, Isaac. I need you present.” Her voice was gentle, coaxing, but beneath it lay steel.

Chris’s face materialized in my mind—his head on my shoulder, his laughter in the waves, his voice rough with want. But it didn’t matter. He was still practically a kid with his whole life ahead of him, and this right here—this was mine. My future. I wasn’t about to throw it away over something that was never going to last.

I rolled onto my side, staring at the dark, my chest tight, my stomach hollow. Tomorrow, I’d end it. Tomorrow, I’d tell Chris it was over. Tomorrow, I’d do what needed to be done.

Even if the thought of it sat like a lead in my heart.

27. Chris

I walked into Nova Systems the next morning, bracing against the sharp sting of winter air as I stepped through the revolving doors. The office was already alive with movement—phones ringing, the low hum of conversations, the clatter of keyboards filling the space with a familiar rhythm.

Zac had beaten me there. I knew without needing to be told. His presence had a gravity of its own, something you could feel in the air, an unspoken awareness of his authority. Also, I could hear him pacing inside his office, his voice sharp and commanding as he made deals, secured investments. Always in control.

I settled at my desk, powered up my computer. A second later, my intercom buzzed.

“Chris, come to my office, please.”

My pulse kicked up. My body knew this routine, had been conditioned to it. He always called me in first thing, and I’d lock the door behind me before dropping to my knees, hunger burning in his eyes as I took him down my throat. I could still taste the salt of him from Miami, still feel the ghost of his mouth on mine, the weight of his body engulfing me like the ocean. And the aching emptiness inside me where his cock had been.

But the moment I stepped into his office, I knew.

Zac stood in front of the massive windows, back turned to me, hands clasped behind him. He was perfectly put together—tie knotted just right, shirt crisp—but something was wrong. The air felt different. Heavy. When he finally turned, the morning light framed him, gilding the hard lines of his face. His expression was blank. Controlled. But his eyes—cold, distant—they told me everything.

A faint unease prickled at my skin. “What’s up?” I asked, keeping my voice light, casual, like maybe I’d misread the tension in the air.

Zac inhaled sharply through his nose. “It’s over, Chris.”

The words slammed into me like a gut punch. I blinked. “What?”

He straightened, adjusting the cuff of his shirt like this was just another business conversation. “This—” he gestured vaguely between us, his voice devoid of warmth “—whatever this was. It’s done. I’m sorry.”

I heard the words, but my brain refused to process them.

He went on, efficient, ruthless. “From now on, we keep things strictly professional at work. Outside of here… we can be friends. But that’s it.” His gaze locked onto mine, unwavering. “No more sex. No more… anything.”

My throat felt dry. I tried to swallow, but it was like trying to choke down glass.

He wasn’t done. He barreled on, like he had to get it all out before I could argue. “I told you from the start—I’m not gay. Okay, I’m clearly not as straight as I thought, but I love my fiancée, and we’re getting married in a month. And I’m not about to throw everything I’ve worked for away over something that was never going to last.”

Something inside me cracked, like ice splintering under too much weight. I knew all of this. I’d always known. But hearing it, laid out so cleanly, sofinally— it fucking burned. I forced my expression into something neutral. Unreadable. If he was going to end this so easily, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

“Okay,” I said, my voice tight, distant.

Zac’s brow twitched. Maybe he’d expected more of a reaction—anger, pleading. But I had nothing left to give. He exhaled,slow and measured. “Good.” A pause, then softer, almost reluctant, “Chris—”

I shook my head. “Don’t.”

His jaw clenched. He nodded once, then turned back to his desk like that was that.

I walked out without another word.

---