Page 88 of Money Reigns

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“But—”

That’s all she gets out.

Her voice dies in her throat.

I sit back slightly and gesture around the restaurant with a slow sweep of my hand.

“We’re in public, Olivia. I won’t make a scene. You won’t be fired. If you want to go back to working for Wesley again…” I pause, let the weight settle. “I’ll move you back myself.”

Lie.

I’ll bulldoze Beaumont enterprises to the ground before I give her up.

She swallows.

Hard.

Her eyes flick around the restaurant, the linen tablecloths, the couples laughing softly over wine, the weight of my gaze pressing into her from across the table.

Then she looks back at me.

And I see it.

Not fear.

Not disgust.

Not even confusion.

Hunger.

Want.

Buried deep, but rising.

So I say it one more time, voice lower than before, just for her:

“Tell me to stop.”

Her pulse jumps under the weight of my stare. She exhales, slow, deliberate, like she’s making a choice she already decided in her mind.

“I can’t,” she says at last.

“Then stop fighting it, Olivia. Let me show you what being mine means.”

***

She said she couldn’t tell me to stop.

And now she’s unraveling exactly the way I knew she would.

The screen on my desk glows softly.

I watch her pace.

She’s whispering, but the camera still picks up her voice.

“What is happening,” she mutters.“What the fuck did I do?”

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