Page 21 of Money Reigns
His voice comes, low and barely audible, like a warning meant only for me.
“You’ve got crumbs on your blouse.” His gaze drags lower, slow and deliberate.“Messy.”
I still.
“Thank you for the reminder,Mr. Beaumont,“ I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
I smooth my blouse, even though it’s pointless, the damage is already done.
My fingertips brush over the faint smear of crumbs on the fabric and shame crawls up my throat like a second skin.
He doesn’t say anything. He just stares.
Watching me.
Weighing me.
Judging me.
I lift my chin, summon whatever scraps of pride I have left, and walk away—measured, steady, like I’m not unraveling with every step.
Like he didn’t just humiliate me witha few fucking crumbs.
I don’t look back as I walk away.
I won’t give him the satisfaction.
Chapter seven
War
Rage.
I’ve felt rage before.
It’s a constant companion in my world. Useful. Controlled. Directed.
But this?
Watching her?
This is something else entirely.
A raw, guttural burn that sinks deep into my bones.
Everyday she’s on my floor.
Everyday, she walks past my office with those soft eyes and that tight polite smile like I’m just another fucking suit.
And then she disappears into his.
Door closed.
Privacy implied.
Intimacy assumed.
Took a week of pretending not to care before I had the camera installed. One angle. Hidden. Feeding only to me. She doesn’t know yet that when she smiles, it’s mine. When she laughs, it’s mine. She just shares it withhimfirst.
