Ruthless CEO

I should’ve known better than to wander off on my first day.

Declan Enterprises spanned fifty-two floors of glass, power, and secrets. But somehow, my eager-to-impress self got off on the wrong floor—his floor.

I clutched the manila folder tighter against my chest, heart pounding as I turned the corner. The hallway was sleek, hushed, and intimidating in a way that screamed: you don’t belong here. I should’ve turned around the second I saw the black marble floors.

But I didn’t.

I stopped in front of a door left slightly ajar. The brass nameplate read:

Harry Declan, CEO

Curiosity tugged harder than common sense.

Just one peek.

Inside, the office was cold, masculine, and breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Manhattan skyline, casting long shadows over his obsidian desk and chrome fixtures. It felt like stepping into a predator’s den—sharp, beautiful, and dangerously silent.

I took one step in.

And that’s when his voice cut through the air like a whip.

“Mia Williams.”

I froze. Slowly turned.

And there he was.

Harry Declan stood in front of the windows, a storm in a navy three-piece suit. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his tie loosened just enough to make him look sinfully undone. His dark eyes locked on mine with surgical precision.

“How do you know my name?” I whispered.

He smiled—but there was nothing kind in it. “I know everything about my employees. Especially the ones who wander into restricted areas and open confidential files.”

My stomach dropped. “I—I didn’t open—”

He moved. One long stride brought him closer. Then another.

“You’re holding the Declan-Evolex merger proposal,” he said coolly, nodding at the folder in my arms. “Tell me did you enjoy reading about the five billion dollar acquisition that hasn't been announced yet?”

Shit.

He stepped closer. Too close. “You saw something you shouldn’t have.”

“I only saw the first page,” I blurted. “I swear”

“I don’t care how many pages you saw.” He was in front of me now, tall and towering, his scent a brutal mix of cedar and something darker. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

I swallowed. “I got off on the wrong floor. I was looking for Accounting.”

He arched a brow. “Then why are you on the executive floor? In my office?"

His gaze flicked to my blouse—light blue, one button slightly gaping from the morning rush. Then back to my eyes. “Interesting. Because Accounting is down twelve floors. And this file was on my desk.”

My mouth went dry. “It was… just sitting there.”

“And you were just curious, I’m sure.”

He stepped closer.

Now there was barely an inch between us. His voice dropped to something low, magnetic. “Do you know what I do to employees who break protocol?”

I tried to step back, but the glass wall was behind me.

“No,” I breathed.

His hand reached out not to touch me, but to brush the folder from my grip. He didn’t take it. Just let his fingers linger a second too long along the edge.

“Good,” he said. “Because I’m about to show you.”

My breath caught.

There was no mistaking the intent in his voice. It wasn’t just disciplinary. It wasn’t just power.

It was control.

And God help me, I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight it.

I could call security,” he murmured. “Or I could keep you exactly where I want you. Under me. Under control.”

And just like that, my pulse betrayed me.

I wasn’t sure if I was afraid of him... or addicted to the danger.