In Lust with my Sexy Boss

Chapter Two Aria’s POVMy fingers trembled on the trackpad, the grainy image still frozen on my laptop screen.Julian Blackwell. In the shadows. Staring down at what looked like a lifeless body.I blinked hard, hoping it was a mistake. My pulse was erratic, thudding violently against my ribs like it was trying to break free. The air in the office suddenly felt too thick and too dense to breathe. My throat closed, dry and aching. My skin prickled, flushed hot with panic even though the air conditioning was humming steadily.No message. No explanation. Just that image and the video.I tried to stand, but my knees buckled slightly. My legs were weak like the blood had pooled in my stomach. My mind was racing with questions, but my body felt paralyzed with dread. Was it real? Was it doctored? Who sent it? And why me?I pushed back from my desk, my chair rolling with a squeak across the hardwood. I clutched the edge of my desk to steady myself, my palms clammy against the cool surface. Th

Chapter FourJulian’s POVI didn’t sleep.Couldn’t.Instead, I spent hours pacing my penthouse, the night pressing against the floor-to-ceiling windows like a silent witness to everything unraveling.Aria had stirred something I couldn’t control. A need that wasn’t just physical. It clawed deeper into places I’d buried under business, blood, and silence.But that wasn’t the worst of it.The worst part was… I wanted her closer, even knowing that might be what got her killed.When my encrypted line finally buzzed at 4:13 a.m., I didn’t hesitate. I answered, voice low, clipped.“Talk.”Trent’s voice came through, rough and strained. “I’ve traced the video breach. It didn’t come from inside Blackwell Global.”I stopped pacing. “Then who?”A beat of static. Then: “It came from Voss. He’s playing games again.”Voss.I should’ve known.Dominic Voss didn’t make moves unless they served two purposes power and punishment. And right now, I was the target of both.“How long until he comes for her

Chapter SixAria’s POVI step off the elevator into the hushed hush-hush of Blackwell Global’s executive corridor, clutching the folder Elliott King gifted me. My palms are damp, the leather binding of the portfolio stretched too hot from my grip. Julian’s message still burns in my mind: “Come to my office. Now.”My stomach coils. Something’s gone deadly wrong.As I approach his door, I inhale sharply to steady myself. I can’t let my face betray what I feel: fear… betrayal… want.Julian is seated behind his desk. He doesn’t look up. His shoulder muscles tighten as I enter. His posture, unnervingly poised like a bullet waiting to be fired.“Sit,” he says, without inflection. His voice is even but his eyes glint with something unreadable.I sit at the edge of the guest chair. My legs won’t settle. I brush my fingers across the folder and feel the raised pattern of Elliott King’s letterhead.“Give it to me,” Julian orders, an inch of steel slicing his calm.I hesitate. My throat is dry.

Chapter EightAria’s POVMy world tore apart.A flash of pain exploded in my shoulder, a searing red bloom. The world inverted, lights, darkness, metallic taste, then everything stilled like a camera on pause. I fell to my knees, breath snagging, as the guard collapsed beside me. No sound but a reverberating heartbeat.Julian’s voice cut through the haze: “Aria!” His gloved hands slid under my arms, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. My head lolled, but his grip tightened, fingers pressing into my ribs.“We’re getting out.” His words were calm, urgent, bone-deep authority.I tried to speak, but my throat burned. My fingertips slid along his suit, tracing the stiff lines that define him, my anchor in chaos.We, staggering together, drifted through the pitch‑black corridor. Panic clawed through me. I couldn’t see the exit. Couldn’t feel the floor. Just Julian, unwavering, unwavering.A faint red glow pulsed ahead, exit signs on the way out. But between us and safety, footsteps rushed b

Chapter TenAria’s POVStreetlights flicker, half-burnt, as Julian steers the car away from Blackwell Global’s compound. My pulse is a thunderous storm. Every vibration of the engine reverberates through my bones, an urgent reminder: there’s no going back now.Julian glances at the rearview mirror. Darkness hides our pursuers, but I can still feel them behind us, hunters closing in. My gaze locks on his profile: high cheekbones, jaw clenched, eyes so set in determination, it chills me and stirs something forbidden.I swallow. “What now?”He exhales sharply. “Head to the safe house.”His words are clipped; he drives fast, weaving between lanes as though every second costs us our lives.My injured arm throbs like a pulse, Julian’s antiseptic pack bandages are soaked through. Thank God they’re near.“Does… he know about the safe house?” I ask softly.He shoots me a glance. “Doesn’t matter. No one but me knows we’re going there.” His voice wavers. “Don’t worry about being compromised agai