Then she just sits at her desk.
Still.
Like she’s trying to regulate her heartbeat. Trying to think.
I smile.
I love watching her unravel.
Quietly. Beautifully. One thread at a time.
Moments later, she stands abruptly and disappears from the camera.
I already know she’s on her way and I know what she’s going to say.
I already know she’ll try to object, to decline, to remind me I never asked.
But I didn’t ask.
I don’thaveto.
She’s already wearing the scent I chose.
She’s already sipping the coffee I handed her.
She’s already mine.
A knock comes sharp at my door.
Right on cue.
Chapter thirteen
Olivia
That dress is worth more than every piece of clothing I own.Combined.
He can’t just buy me something like that.
Invite me to the gala? Fine.
But a designer gown tailored to my measurements, hand-delivered to my office in a matte black box?
No.
That crosses a line.
I stop in front of his office door, hand raised to knock, and hesitate.
Iwantto go. God, I do.
A part of me wants to wear that dress. To be seen like that.
And I don’t have anything close to good enough for an event like this.
But still. This feels...dangerous.
Why shouldn’t I accept it? It’s just a gift. Right?