Page 14 of The Boss
His mouth tilted—not in amusement, but mockery. “For me, you’ll always be late. Sit.”
The command shivered down her spine. She lowered herself into the chair opposite, spine ramrod straight, legs crossed tight, hands folded over her tablet to stop their trembling. He circled his desk and sat, moving with a predator’s control, every motion meticulous.
“We need ground rules,” he said. His tone was iron, no allowance for debate. “You work for me. That means you don’t question my orders, you don’t wander where you’re not permitted, and you don’t assume privilege you haven’t earned. You’re not here to tempt me, test me, or distract me. Do your job, stay out of trouble, and you’ll survive.”
Her pulse jumped, but she steadied herself, refusing to let him see her rattled. He wanted her to flinch, to shrink into obedience. Instead she lifted her chin, forcing her voice into something steadier than she felt. If he was going to set rules, she would not be a silent, quivering pawn. Her mouth curved.
“Do I get to add rules of my own?”
His eyes locked onto hers, sharp enough to strip her bare. “No.”
The word was flint against tinder. She let a laugh slip, low, husky, sounding more like challenge than surrender. She leaned into it, taking a perverse pleasure in how the sound heated the air between them. “Then you’ll forgive me if I don’t promise to follow yours.”
Something shifted across his face. Not anger. Something darker, hotter, dangerous. He leaned forward and his stare dragged across her skin like a touch. “We’ll see.”
The Brand seared, pulling everything tight through her chest. She shifted subtly in her chair, pressing her thighs together, praying he didn’t notice. The silence stretched, heavy and fraught. He let it hang there until she wanted to scream just to fill the air. Finally his voice cut through.
“Look at me.”
She dragged her gaze up, determined not to flinch. His stare was merciless.
“You will keep your phone on at all times. You will eat when I tell you. You will not disappear into corners or shadows, because if you do I will come after you.” He leaned forward, his forearms braced on the desk, the desk seeming to groan with the potency of his command. “And when I call your name, you will answer. Immediately.”
Mariah’s throat tightened, but she refused to look away. She wanted to throw the rules back at him, laugh in his face, to show him she wasn’t a pawn he could order about. Her voice came steadier, edged with defiance. “Why?”
His eyes narrowed, the shadows in them deepening. “Because you belong to me now. Whether you admit it or not.”
Heat coursed through her, terrifying and electric, afever that no willpower could suppress. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, that she could walk away, that he couldn’t control her. The words crowded her tongue, sharp and unyielding, but the Brand’s answering pulse betrayed her, throbbing in her chest and between her thighs as if it laughed at thelie.
She clenched her hands around her tablet, nails biting into the casing, and pressed her thighs tighter together, trying to mask the ache building there. Still, she forced her gaze to remainlevel, determined not to let him see just how much power he had over herbody.
The tremor racing down her spine spread into her belly, up into her throat, until she was certain he could see it. That he could sense every secret reaction she wanted to keep hidden but also the iron thread of resistance she held onto. His gaze lingered on her mouth, her knees, her trembling fingers, as though he was already cataloging each weakness. She met that stare with a flicker of her own daring, asilent challenge. Ashiver coursed through her, caught between fury and a reckless longing to see how far he would pushher.
He leaned closer, picking up the thread of rules as if he hadn’t let the silence drag her to the edge. His voice dropped, each word measured. “When I say silence, you’ll keep it. When I say speak, you’ll speak. If I tell you to walk into a room of wolves, you’ll walk in smiling. Because my word is the difference between your life and your death.”
Her lips parted, outrage flaring. But he didn’t stop.
“And another thing. You will not flirt with anyone in my circle. Not with my men, not with rivals, not with allies. Your smile, your voice, every glance you give, it all belongs to me now. Do you understand?”
Heat rushed into her face. She wanted to deny him, to laugh it off as arrogance, but the Brand surged with vicious pleasure at his claim. Her voice emerged fierce, roughened by heat and outrage. “And if I don’t?”
His eyes hardened, his tone dropping to something hard and absolute. “Then I’ll remind you. As often as it takes.”
The silence stretched again, heavy and fraught, her pulse loud in her ears. She could almost hear the seconds tick past,though neither of them moved. When he finally stood, it was with lethal grace, as though deciding to spare her. Fornow.
“We’re late,” he said, and her stomach clenched when she glanced at her watch again. 8:12. He’d made her squirm on purpose, let the meeting slip just to make his point. She gathered her tablet, rose, and followed. She told herself not to notice how broad his shoulders were, how every step he took seemed to drag her body forward. Told herself not to feel thepull.
In the elevator, silence pressed around them. She tried to focus on the numbers flashing overhead as they descended, but his reflection in the mirrored walls was everywhere. Tall, Nordic beautiful in a way that scraped her raw. She adjusted her grip on the tablet just to keep her hands busy. He said nothing at first, but the air vibrated with what neither of them spoke.
Finally, his voice cut through the hum of the elevator. “This meeting isn’t about pleasantries. It’s about territory. Lines being tested, and men who want to know if I’m strong enough to hold them.” He glanced at her reflection, eyes glittering. “You’ll take notes. You’ll remember every detail. But everything said in that room remains in that room. No exceptions.”
Mariah’s mouth went dry. She nodded, the tablet tight in her hands. “Of course.”
His stare lingered, sharp, weighing. “Swear it.”
Her heart stuttered. “I swear.”
The words tasted foreign on her tongue, like binding herself with invisible chains. The vow settled deep in her chest, heavier than she expected, and the Brand answered with a molten pulse that made her knees weaken. It was only a promise of confidentiality, yet under his eyes it became something more intimate, more damning—like swearing her loyalty not to themeeting, but to him. Heat and resolve tangled together until her throat ached. She wanted to tell herself it was just business, but her body knew better. The way his gaze slid over her said he knew ittoo.
