Page 120 of Sexting the Boss

Roman exhales through his nose but says nothing. He knows better.

Oleg tries one last time. “Seriously, Damien. She blocked you. Textbook move. She’s mad. She’s not gonna?—”

I push back from the table hard enough that the chair scrapes the floor. “Stay here. Both of you.”

Oleg raises a brow. “Where the hell are you going?”

I don’t answer. Just grab my phone and walk out, the door slamming behind me.

I’m already dialing the elevator before anyone can stop me.

Heart pounding. Fury tightening my fists.

I hit the button for the lower floors—the employee offices. Her department.

It’s stupid. Reckless. But I don’t give a shit.

She blocks me? Fine. Let’s see how she handles this.

The elevator ride feels endless, and the second the doors open, heads turn.

No one expects to seemedown here.

I walk through the rows of cubicles like a goddamn wrecking ball, ignoring the gasps and whispers. People scramble out of my way, eyes wide, pretending to look busy.

And then I see her.

Sasha.

Sitting there, pretending like she hasn’t flipped my entire fucking world upside down.

Oblivious. Her head down, typing.

I stand there for a beat too long, staring.

She feels it. Slowly looks up.

Her eyes go wide.

Good. She should be scared.

“Miss Caldwell,” I say, voice calm but laced with every bit of the rage burning inside me. “Come with me.”

She blinks, glancing around at the sea of heads peeking over cubicles like it’s feeding time at the zoo.

Sasha leans back in her chair, crosses her arms, and hisses, “What are you doing? You’re making a scene.”

“Iamthe scene,” I bite back, dead serious. “Now get up.”

Her jaw tightens, her face turning pink. “This is my job, Damien. You can’t just…barge in here.”

“I just did.”

Someone coughs nervously. I don’t even glance their way.

I’m locked on Sasha like a heat-seeking missile.

She glares. “You’re insane.”

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