Forgive Me, Mr. CEO

Melanie's POV “Get off her!” The words tore out of my throat before I could stop them. I stood frozen at the edge of the dim hallway, my phone already in my hand, my heart slamming so hard against my ribs I could feel it in my throat. A tall man in a black shirt had a woman pinned against the wall, one hand locked hard around her wrist, the other clamped over her mouth, and she was fighting him with everything she had, her heels scraping frantic lines against the floor as she twisted and strained to get free. Every part of me went cold and electric at the same time, the way it always did whenever I saw someone smaller being hurt by someone bigger. The man's head snapped toward me the second I spoke, and in the low, flickering light I caught the hard lines of his face, dark eyes that didn't so much as flinch, a cold, unreadable expression that made my skin crawl in a way I felt all the way down to my fingertips. He didn't let go of her. Not even a little. That alone told me ever

Melanie's POV I had never wanted the ground to open up and swallow me so badly in my entire life. Unfortunately, the ground seemed determined to keep me alive. He didn't wait for me to find my voice again. Whatever answer he'd been expecting, my silence seemed to satisfy him more than words would have, because he simply turned and walked toward the elevator bank without another glance in my direction, leaving me standing alone in that gleaming hallway with my heart hammering somewhere up near my throat. This is Sinclair Enterprises. Meaning he's the fucking cold CEO that people whisper about. The famous Damien Sinclair. Fuck it. I don't know how long I stood there after the elevator doors closed behind him. Long enough that the receptionist at the front desk started giving me curious looks, long enough that my folder had gone soft and damp where I'd been clutching it against my chest without realizing it. Eventually I made myself walk out of that building on legs that didn't feel