Chapter 11: Change That Dress

Hailey's POV 

The dress was a statement. 

It hung in the closet, crimson silk that Susan had picked out this morning. I slipped it on, and it clung to every curve like it had been made just for me. The neckline dipped dangerously low between my breasts. My back was bare, skin glinting. The edge of the dress hit mid-thigh, legs spilling out on every step.

It was expensive. Bold. Impossible to ignore. Exactly what I needed for today m

Today was the board meeting. The one where Maxwell would officially claim his seat and we'd present ourselves as the unstoppable power couple.

I stepped out of the bathroom, heels clicking against the marble floor.

Maxwell stood by the window in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than most people's cars, adjusting his cufflinks. When he turned, his eyes landed on me.

And froze. His entire body went rigid.

"What are you wearing?" His voice was dangerously low.

"A dress." I grabbed my clutch, refusing to show my pulse spiked under his stare. "Ready to go?" 

"No." He crossed the room steps. "You're changing. Now." 

I looked up at him. "Excuse me?" 

"That dress is too revealing." His eyes dragged over me. "Every man in that boardroom will...." 

"Will what?" I cut him off. "Look at me? Isn't that the point? Make a statement?" 

"Not that kind of statement." His voice dropped to something rough. "Change." 

"No." My voice was firm, though my heart was pounding.

His eyes flashed. "Hailey...." 

"We're supposed to walk in there as a power couple, remember?" I moved toward the door. "Confident. Untouchable. This dress says exactly that."

His hand shot out, catching my wrist.

"That dress," he said slowly. "Says that every man in the room gets to imagine what's underneath it."

"So?" I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

"So, you're my wife." His other hand found my waist, yanking me closer until our bodies were inches apart. "You wear my ring. You carry my name. That means something."

"It means we have a contract." I shoved at his chest, but he didn't budge. "Not that you own me."

"Doesn't it?" His fingers flexed against my waist. "Because right now, the only thing stopping me from locking you in this room is the fact that we have an audience waiting." 

Heat flooded through me. "You don't get to tell me what to wear...."

"I do when you're dressed like you're trying to start a war." His voice was low and gritty. "Do you have any idea what seeing you in this does to me? What it'll do to them?" 

"I don't care what it does to them..." My voice was sharp and defensive, even though my heart was racing.

"You should." He pulled me flush against him, his hand sliding higher on my waist, his thumb brushing my exposed skin. "Because the second one of those board members looks at you the wrong way. I'm going to lose it. And you'll be the reason."

My breath caught. "That sounds like a you problem." 

"No." His eyes burned into mine. "That's an us problem. Because when I break Simeon's jaw for staring at your legs, or shove Denis through the wall for eye-fucking you across the table, it becomes our scandal. Our mess."

My eyes widened. "You wouldn't..." 

"Try me." His hand slid to my lower back, his fingers spreed across bare skin. "You have no idea what I'm capable of when someone touches what's mine." 

"You're being ridiculous..." My voice came out too high, too soft.

"I'm being honest." His hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back. "And honestly? That dress makes me want to do very unprofessional things to you. So change. Before I forget every we set."

My hands fisted in his shirt. "No."

Something feral crossed his face. "You're testing me on purpose."

"Maybe I am." My voice came out breathless. "Maybe I want to see what happens when Maxwell Kingston finally loses control." 

His grip tightened almost painfully. "You don't want that."

"Don't I?" I tilted my chin up, my mouth inches from his. "Because you've been so controlled, so cold, acting like this is all business. But right now? You don't look controlled at all." 

His breath was ragged. His fingers dug into my waist, hard enough to bruise. His eyes dropped to my lips.

"If you walk out in that dress," his voice was wrecked. "Every man there will look at you. Will imagine...."

"Let them look." I pressed closer, feeling him tense. "Let them look and know they can't have me. That I belong to you."

"You're playing with fire," he growled.

"So are you." My nails dug into his chest. "Acting like you own me. Like this marriage gives you rights to contro what I do."

"I don't want to control you..."

"Then what do you want?" The question ripped out of me.

His eyes were fire, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. For three heartbeats, he just stared at me like he was trying to decide between kissing me or locking me away.

"I want you to change that goddamn dress," he said finally, his voice rough. "before I rip it off you myself."

The threat sent electricity straight through me.

"No." I twisted myself free from his grip, stumbling back. My waist felt cold without his hand. "I'm wearing this dress. I'm walking into that boardroom. And you're going to stand beside me and deal with it." 

"Hailey..." He warned.

"We're late." I grabbed my clutch, forcing my legs to work despite how they shook."Let's go make our statement." 

I made it three steps before his voice stopped me cold.

"You walk out like that," he said, dangerously soft. and I won't be responsible for what I do the first man who looks at you wrong ." 

I turned to look at him. He stood there, suit perfect, expression dark, eyes burning with barely restrained anger.

"Good thing I can take care of myself then."

His mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "We'll see about that."

And I walked out before the heat in his eyes could make me do something stupid like going back.