CHAPTER 3

Dominic Pierre was not easily sidetracked. Not at all.

He had been raised on discipline and knew the value of time and when it was required. But sitting in his office reading through acquisition reports, he kept rereading the same sentence four times, each time his thoughts kept going back to the redhead he met down the hallway.

Jillian Richards.

The name had come across his desk three weeks ago, flagged and handpicked by Eloise herself. A fresh graduate, top of her class, no family connections. Smart, resilient. Maybe even too resilient, if that was a thing.

Dominic looked out the office’s one-way glass at the bustling atrium below. A redhead stood beside his mother. SHe was poised, composed, but clutched the folder to her chest like it was going to eat her. So that’s her.

She didn’t look dangerous. She looked… young. In over her head.

Which meant she’d either sink quickly, or become something entirely unexpected.

Dominic’s thoughts were interrupted by the door swinging open without a knock. Only one person would enter his office like he owned it.

“Morning, brother.”

Gerald strolled in like a gust of expensive cologne and entitlement. Blond hair slightly tousled, shirt half-buttoned like he'd just rolled out of bed, which, knowing him, wasn’t far from the truth.

“I’m in a meeting,” Dominic said without looking at his entitled brother.

“You’re always in a meeting. You should really learn to relax, Dom.”

He dropped into the leather chair across from his desk and kicked his feet up.

Dominic clenched my jaw. “Take your feet off the desk.”

He didn’t.

“What do you want, Gerald?”

He smiled, all wolfish charm and veiled cruelty. “Just thought I’d give you a heads-up. About your new hire.”

Dominic looked up. “Jillian Richards?”

“That’s the one.”

 He said nothing, waiting. Gerald thrived on the pause, the anticipation of discomfort.

“She’s… not stable.”

His eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

“Oh, come on, Dom. You really think she got that job because she’s bright-eyed and qualified? I met her last night. At the club.” He grinned. “We had… a moment.”

Something about the way he said it turned Dominic’s stomach.

“You slept with her.”

He didn’t deny it.

“Gerald.”

“Don’t look at me like that. She was the one who approached me. I figured she was some party girl. Then I walk in today and guess who’s working under our dear mother?”

“Your behavior—”

“Isn’t the issue here,” he interrupted. “The issue is that she lied. Didn’t mention anything. Acted like nothing happened. That’s suspicious, don’t you think?”

Dominic stared at him. “Or maybe she was trying to forget a mistake.”

His smirk twitched. “Or maybe she’s got bigger plans than you realize.”

There was something tight in his voice. It seemed to Dominic that Gerald was taking the issue too personal.

He leaned forward. “I looked into her. Did you know she was expelled from her old college? Some inappropriate relationship with a professor. Whole thing was covered up. And her family? Financial scandal. Buried in court documents, but it’s all there if you dig deep enough.”

“You dug.”

“I always dig when it comes to the people working around us. Especially when they’re hiding things.”

Dominic hated how good Gerald was at this—at planting doubt, at bending truth just enough to make you doubt reality.

He stood, brushing imaginary lint off his blazer. “Just a tip, big brother. Keep your eye on that one.”

Then he paused at the door, hand on the knob.

“Oh—and if she tries anything, I’ve got footage that’ll make sure she never works in this city again.”

The door shut behind him.

Silence wrapped around Dom like a vise.

He looked back toward the glass wall. Jillian Richards was already gone from the lobby. Probably settling into her desk, unpacking pens, ready to start her life.

And yet, Gerald’s words clung to the air.

A warning.

A threat.

And something else.

Possession.

He’d always known when his brother had set his sight on a new toy.

___________________________________________

Jillian had her head down for the rest of the day.  She buried herself in emails, scheduling calendar meetings, and triple-checking her to-do list, anything to distract herself from the vortex of turmoil Gerald had unleashed within her. Every time she passed by his office, her stomach twisted. His last words echoed like a raspy tape in her head—"Keep your mouth shut. Do your job."

But then, before her mind would begin spinning again, she'd remember that she wasn’t going to go down alone. 

With a deep exhale, she gathered her things once the clock struck six and began to prepare for home. She needed space, air, laughter, familiarity.

She needed Ciara.

Ever since she lost her parents at a young age, Ciara’s had taken her in and they’d practically been sisters since then. Ciara was the only one who understood her and she needed someone to tell her she was definitely not crazy. She quickly hailed a cab after leaving the building and bought some pizza from the pizzeria across from their apartment on her way over.

"Wait—what?" Ciara blinked, half-way through a bite of takeout pizza. "You're telling me the guy you slept with is your boss's son?"

Jillian flopped onto their couch and groaned loudly, pulling a pillow over her head.

"Yes."

Ciara burst into shocked laughter. "No way. That is soap opera level drama, Jill."

"Good to know my life is amusing to you, Ciara," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

Ciara just let out a louder laugh in response causing Jillian to draw the pillow away from her face and throw it at her laughing friend. Jillian sat up and looked at her slumped figure on the floor. She didn’t even want to think about how she got there in the first place. Ciara was just dramatic like that. "It's not funny, Cee. He pushed me into his office. Told me to forget the night ever happened, with an ominous tone like he wanted to kill me or something. Like I was some… worthless toy."

Ciara's grin fell. "Okay, now I want to fight him," Ciara said in mock anger. Or maybe real anger. Jillian was to mentally exhausted to figure it out but she was sure her friend was truly pissed off.

"He was so different that night," Jillian breathed, more to herself than to her friend. "Charming, funny, and attentive. I actually thought he really saw me.".

Ciara hunched forward taking her friend’s hands in hers. "Men like him don't have to be charming, they do it. They tire of the power they hold, so they seek out whatever's new. You were new."

Jillian nodded gently.

Ciara's eyes narrowed. "So, what are you going to do? Quit?"

"No," replied Jillian. "I need this job. I just… I have to stay away from him."

Ciara understood her plight and took her arms.

Jillian melted into the hug and wished she could remain there forever but tomorrow would still come and she’d have to face it. For now, she’ll focus on today.