LOGINFor three days, I became a corporate ghost.I completely ignored every single text message Foxe sent me. I actively declined his phone calls and sent them straight to voicemail. I wrapped my throbbing ankle in a thick bandage and dragged myself back into the hallways of Jeremy Enterprises. I buried my exhausted mind in the soul crushing reality of the upcoming Shield merger just to keep myself from falling apart.I desperately need to stay away from Foxe. I need to protect myself from the intense gravitational pull of his dark obsession.But hiding from him doesn’t stop the terrifying war raging inside my head. Why don’t I tell June about the red file? I ask myself that exact question every single hour of the day. I have the physical blueprints of June’s total financial destruction sitting quietly inside my leather tote bag. All I have to do is hand the folder to June, and the catastrophic merger will be canceled immediately. Foxe will be arrested for severe corporate espionage and th
He kisses me.It starts slow, and tender. A tasting of salt and whiskey. It’s a question, and my response is the answer. I open my mouth, inviting him in, and the tenderness dissolves.He groans, animalistically, and tackles me.We go down onto the thick carpet. He’s on top of me, his weight heavy but essential. His hands are in my hair, on my face, desperate to touch every inch of me.“You’re here,” he gasps against my neck. “You’re actually here.”“I’m here,” I confirm, my hands sliding under his t-shirt to feel the heat of his skin. His back muscles bunch under my palms. “I’m not going anywhere.”He pulls back, straddling my hips. He looks down at me, his eyes dark with worship.“Take this off,” he says, tugging at my blouse. “I need to see you. All of you. Can I?”“Yes,” I breathe. “But don’t rip it. It’s silk.”He laughs, breathlessly, and his hands work the buttons with surprising dexterity. He peels the fabric away, exposing my bra. (The sensible beige one. He still has the bla
The phone call comes at two in the morning.I’m lying rigidly in my bed, staring blankly at the dark ceiling, completely terrified. The anonymous email from ForeverYours_1703 is still burning a bright hole into my retinas. You should keep your blinds closed when you're wearing my favorite t-shirt, Anella. I’m wearing my favorite faded gray university t-shirt. I immediately scramble out of bed and violently yank my blinds shut, but the damage is already done. My stalker is actively watching my apartment. He knows exactly where I live, and he knows exactly what I’m wearing.My phone suddenly vibrates loudly on the nightstand. The harsh sound makes me physically jump.I snatch the phone up, expecting another terrifying message from the digital ghost. Instead, the caller ID flashes a name that makes my heart stutter. It’s Foxe.I answer the call hesitantly. “Foxe, it’s two in the morning. What do you want?”“Anella.”His voice doesn’t sound anything like the arrogant billionaire who
Paranoia is an incredibly heavy coat, and I’ve been wearing it nonstop since Foxe Shield walked out of my apartment with my black lace underwear.It’s been forty-eight hours since he invaded my living room. My sprained ankle is still aching with a pain that the overpriced ibuprofen barely touches. I’m currently sitting at my tiny kitchen table, surrounded by a literal sea of printed spreadsheets and empty coffee cups. June specifically ordered me to take the rest of the week off, but I’m a chronic workaholic who doesn't know how to turn my brain off. I’m desperately trying to keep the Jeremy Empire afloat remotely while the Shield merger deadline creeps closer like an execution date.I rub my burning eyes and stare blankly at a complex financial projection. I can't focus on the numbers. Every time I close my eyes, I feel the prints of Foxe's hands gripping my waist. I feel the rough scrape of his jaw against my neck and smell the intoxicating scent of his Musse cologne.I push my c
Melly is aggressively icing my swollen ankle while simultaneously threatening to hunt Kerry Showers down with a stolen hospital scalpel."I’m dead serious, Anella," Melly mutters passionately as she presses the freezing bag of crushed ice harder against my bruised skin. "I can easily requisition a scalpel from the surgical deck. I’ll wait in the Jeremy Enterprises parking garage, and I’ll slice her expensive tires to ribbons. And then I’ll slice her.""Melly, please stop pressing so hard," I hiss, grabbing the sofa cushion and squeezing it to distract myself from the throbbing pain. "My ankle’s already broken. You don't need to freeze my entire leg off.""It isn't broken," Melly corrects me, falling instantly back into her clinical nurse mode. "It’s a severe Grade-Two sprain. You tore a ligament, but you didn't fracture the bone. You’re incredibly lucky.""I don't feel very lucky," I grumble, leaning my head back against the sofa."You were attacked, Anella," Melly says. The playful a
I can’t breathe. My legs feel like jelly. I should be screaming for help; I should be hitting him. But the sight of this powerful, dangerous man sniffing my lingerie in my own living room has short-circuited my brain.“You’re sick,” I whisper, my voice trembling.“I’m obsessed,” he corrects. He tosses the bra onto the couch behind him, discarding it now that he’s gotten the reaction he wanted. “There’s a difference.”He steps closer. I am pressed against the kitchen counter again. There's nowhere to run.“You blocked me because you’re scared,” he says, planting his hands on the counter on either side of me, trapping me. “Not because you hate me. But because you realized that night in the conference room that I wasn’t lying. You realized that I genuinely want to consume you.”“I am just a secretary,” I argue weakly, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I am nobody.”“You’re the woman who has been in my head for seven years,” he growls. “You’re the glitch in my system. You're the only p
My apartment is my sanctuary. It's a tiny, overpriced shoebox on the 12th floor of a building that perpetually smells like boiled cabbage, but it's mine. It is the one place in New Greenland where I don’t have to be Anella Bymor, Executive Assistant. The one place where I don’t have to deal with Ju
My hatred for Kerry Showers didn't start in the hallways of Jeremy Enterprises. It started seven years ago on a freezing Tuesday morning at the university student market.I was standing behind my rusted fish stall desperately trying to earn enough cash to keep the heat on in our tiny apartment. My
The smell of Saint Mercy Hospital always tastes like bleach.I stand silently in the doorway of room 400 and watch my brother sleep. Jericho looks too small in the hospital bed. The heavy pain medication finally dragged him under after a grueling two-hour physical therapy session. His face is excep
He stands up.He towers over me, blocking out the light, blocking out the room. Before I can react, he grips my waist and lifts me effortlessly off the floor.I yelp as he sets me onto the edge of the conference table.He steps between my legs immediately, pinning me there. His thighs press against







