Page 52 of Money Reigns
I already ordered her the set she deserves.
Black lacquer, gold trim. Engraved.
Not because she needs it.
Because she will look fucking beautiful holding power in her hand and still not knowing it’s hers.
Yet.
I zoom the feed closer.
There.
9 on the dot.
A single loose strand of hair falls from that twisted knot she tries to pin back every morning. It brushes her cheek. She exhales. Doesn’t fix it.
I watch her breathe.
Watch her fucking breathe.
And I swear to God, I could sit here all day watching the way her chest rises and falls, soft and slow, like she doesn’t know she’s being seen. Touched. Undressed.
Owned.
I shift in my seat, suddenly too hard, too tense, too fucking close to unraveling from a single glance at a woman who still doesn’t know she already belongs to me.
But soon.. she’ll know and once she does, there’s no going back.
My office phone buzzes, I answer swiftly.
“Your package has arrived, sir.”
I don’t ask which one.
“Send it to Olivia Baker’s office.”
A pause. “Her… office?”
“Did I stutter?”
“No, sir.”
I end the call and lean back in my chair, attention back on the feed.
My sweet, focused Olivia, reading something intently, bottom lip caught between her teeth. If she keeps doing that, I’ll forget the whole plan and drag her in here now.
Her hair’s completely unraveled now. The collar of her blouse is slightly crooked. Still hasn’t noticed.
Then the knock comes to her door, her head lifts.
Cara, the first floor receptionist, enters the frame, holding the box with both hands. Matte black, ribboned, no label. Elegant. Ominous.
Olivia stands slowly.
Brows knit.
Confusion blooming.
