Page 20 of The CEO

“And I don’t typically invite obituary writers to my home.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Consider it an exclusive for your feature.”

“I’ll consider it,” I say, tucking the card away.

He moves around me. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He reaches inside his suit coat. “You dropped this.”

My blood freezes when I see what’s folded neatly in his hand.

My green scarf.

He steps close to me again—too close. The scarf tumbles from his hand like a silk ribbon, the edge still in his fingertips as he brings it up to my neck and begins to drape it around my throat with deliberate slowness. His fingers brush against my skin, leaving a trail of heat as he leans in closer.

“I don’t like loose ends, Miss Thorne,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

“Isthata threat?” I manage, my voice steadier than I feel.

He chuckles low and throaty, the sound vibrating through me as his eyes meet mine with chilling clarity.

“Of course not.” He winks. “It’s a promise, remember?”

I’m frozen in place, even after he turns and walks back toward his office. I reach up, yanking at the scarf as if that will alleviate the suffocating presence of him. I stuff it into my bag, then punch the button for the elevator, glancing back toward his office one last time just as he reaches his door.

“I look forward to seeing you at Eden.”

The elevator doors slide shut with a soft mechanical hiss, and instantly, my knees buckle. I grab the handrail, steadying myself as the car begins its descent. My breath comes in short, shallow gasps as my free hand flies to my throat where his fingers had been just moments before.

My scarf. My fucking scarf.

The intimate violation of it crashes over me in waves. That scarf was my mother’s, and it’s one of the few personal items I have left of her. And he touched it. Handled it. Used it against me like a collar to mark his territory.

I press my fingertips against my pulse point, feeling the frantic rhythm. My skin burns where he touched me, as though his fingerprints have seared themselves into my flesh. It wasn’t just a threat . . . it felt like he was claiming me. Like a primal statement of possession that my body understood before my mind could process it.

“Shit,” I whisper, catching sight of my reflection in the mirrored walls. My cheeks are flushed, pupils dilated, lips parted. I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me.

This isn’t fear, at least not entirely. It’s something else. Something darker and more disturbing. The way he looked at me when he wrapped that scarf around my neck, like I was already his and just didn’t know it yet . . . it should repulse me. Instead, it’s awakened something I’ve buried so deep, I didn’t know it existed.

I pull the scarf from my bag, rubbing the soft fabric between my fingers. It smells slightly like him, like something shared between us. A connection.

A tether.

The thought sends a shiver down my spine as the elevator reaches the ground floor. I stuff the scarf back into my bag, but I can still feel it there, a physical reminder of his intrusion into my life. Of the invisible mark he’s left on me.

As I push through the revolving doors of Knox Tower, stepping into the bright Chicago afternoon, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve crossed some invisible threshold. That by walking into his office, by challenging him directly, I’ve initiated something I no longer have the power to stop.

And the most disturbing part isn’t that he might be watching me right now. It’s that some twisted part of me hopes he is.

Chapter4

Damien

Satisfaction settles deep in my bones when I return to my desk after she’s gone. Her curiosity is piqued enough that she clearly has no intention of stopping her investigation into me. And soon, she’ll walk willingly into the garden I’ve cultivated over the years during sleepless nights drowning in her memory.

I feel my irritation flare again at Foster’s question about my interest in her. I don’t like my decisions being questioned, especially when it involves The Shadows. While Victor might have laid the groundwork for the organization, it wasn’t until I stepped in that it became the international powerhouse it is now. I’ve dedicated my entire existence to this organization since I was nine years old, and there’s nothing I would do to put that in jeopardy.

If the other members were aware of what Eve knows, they’d be calling for me to eliminate the threat immediately. Foster wasn’t wrong in his concern, but if his curiosity gets the better of him or he betrays my trust, I’ll make sure it’s a lesson he won’t learn twice.

I pick up my phone and give him a call.

“Sir?” he answers before the first ring even finishes.

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