The Ball And The Boundaries

‎The message came early that morning, short and commanding—just like him.

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‎> Jayden Roberts: Shareholders’ Ball. Tonight. Be ready by seven.

‎Wear something formal but elegant. You’re coming with me.

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‎No greeting, no explanation. Just an order.

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‎I stared at my phone, half expecting a follow-up that never came. By the time I reached the office, the buzz had already spread. The annual shareholders’ ball was the company’s biggest event of the year. Only top executives and their plus ones attended.

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‎So why me?

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‎When Jayden finally arrived, I followed him into his office, shutting the door behind me. “Sir, about the message…”

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‎He didn’t even look up from his laptop. “You got it.”

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‎“Yes, but—why me? You could take anyone else from the board.”

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‎His eyes lifted, calm and unbothered. “You’re my secretary. You go where I go.”

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‎“That doesn’t include after-hours events.”

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‎“It does when I say it does.” His tone left no room for argument. “I need someone efficient, and you’re the only one who fits the requirement.”

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‎“So this isn’t optional?”

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‎He finally leaned back, meeting my gaze. “Nothing about working for me is optional, Ms. Sanders.”

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‎I folded my arms, heat rising in my chest. “You can’t control my life outside this office.”

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‎He stood then, slow and deliberate, closing the distance between us. “Your life,” he said quietly, “is this office. At least for now.”

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‎For a second, the air felt heavy—too heavy. His words weren’t just an order; they were a reminder of who he was and the power he held.

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‎I swallowed hard. “Fine. I’ll be ready.”

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‎“Good.” His expression softened, almost imperceptibly. “Wear something that makes people look twice.”

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‎---

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‎The ballroom glowed like a sea of gold that night. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their light bouncing off glasses and jewels. My silver gown shimmered with each step, and the diamond pendant around my neck caught the light like it was born for the moment.

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‎When Jayden saw me enter the lobby, his eyes paused. He didn’t speak at first—just took me in from head to toe.

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‎“Perfect,” he murmured, offering his arm. “Now, try not to ruin it with nerves.”

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‎I arched a brow. “I don’t get nervous.”

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‎“Good. You’ll need that tonight.”

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‎Inside the ballroom, conversations quieted as we walked past. The crowd parted almost naturally around him—Jayden Roberts, the man people whispered about but never challenged. And I, apparently, was the woman on his arm.

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‎Halfway through the evening, I noticed the familiar face of Mr. Rogers, the client we’d met last week, surrounded by executives. His assistant, Michael, caught my gaze instantly.

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‎He smiled, slow and appreciative, his eyes sweeping down before returning to meet mine. It was subtle, but I felt Jayden’s posture change beside me.

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‎“Mr. Rogers,” Jayden greeted, all smooth authority. “Good to see you again.”

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‎“Jayden, always a pleasure. And this must be your lovely secretary.”

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‎“Melissa Sanders,” I said politely, extending my hand.

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‎Before Michael could take it, Jayden’s arm brushed against mine—just a fraction, but enough to make me drop my hand. “Ms. Sanders prefers to keep formalities brief,” he said smoothly.

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‎I shot him a look, but he ignored it, his attention still on Rogers.

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‎As the conversation went on, I felt Michael’s gaze again—unapologetic, curious. It wasn’t offensive, just… noticeable. But every time I looked away, Jayden’s hand would subtly find the small of my back, guiding me closer.

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‎It was protective—too protective.

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‎When Mr. Rogers finally excused himself, I turned toward Jayden, my voice sharp but low. “You didn’t have to do that.”

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‎“Do what?”

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‎“Hover like that. You made it obvious.”

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‎He leaned closer, his breath brushing my ear. “That’s the point.”

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‎I stepped back slightly, startled by the quiet weight in his tone. “Why?”

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‎His expression didn’t change. “Because I don’t mix my employees with men who stare at them like they’re part of the evening entertainment.”

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‎I wanted to argue, to tell him I could handle myself—but something in his eyes stopped me. It wasn’t arrogance. It was… something else. A warning? Or a confession he’d never say aloud?

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‎---

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‎The night ended later than expected. By the time we reached the hotel—his spontaneous decision for an early morning client meeting—the city lights had dimmed to a quiet glow.

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‎We stepped into the elevator together, the soft hum filling the silence. I could feel his presence beside me—solid, unshakable.

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‎When the doors slid open on the tenth floor, a group of guests stepped in, laughing loudly, champagne glasses clinking. The elevator grew crowded, and before I could move, someone brushed too close. Instinctively, I shifted back—straight into Jayden’s chest.

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‎His hand steadied me, resting lightly against my side. I froze.

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‎“Easy,” he murmured, so quietly only I could hear.

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‎The ride felt endless. I could feel his heartbeat against my back, steady and strong, his breath warm near my ear. No words. Just that unbearable, silent tension that made the air heavier with every passing second.

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‎When the crowd exited two floors later, I moved away quickly, adjusting my dress to hide my shaking hands.

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‎“Are you all right?” Jayden asked.

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‎“Yes,” I said, too fast. “You didn’t have to—”

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‎He looked at me then, his voice low, calm, and laced with something I couldn’t name. “The world doesn’t get to touch what’s mine.”

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‎The words froze me in place. My pulse skipped.

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‎I opened my mouth to protest, but the elevator chimed, and the doors slid open.

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‎He walked out first, leaving me standing there—speechless, confused, and breathless.

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