Chapter Six

Zane's POV

The air crackled with a tension thick enough to choke on. Aurora’s sharp inhale was the only sound in the small, temporary office—a room meant for visiting executives, currently holding one infuriated woman and one man whose control was rapidly dissolving. She had dodged my hand with the practiced grace of a seasoned fighter, and the swiftness of her refusal sent a primal jolt of annoyance and need through me. It wasn’t a timid flinch; it was a deliberate, full-body rejection.

“Get your hands off me, Mr. Wilson,” she hissed, her voice low and tight, betraying a struggle to maintain her professional composure. Her dark eyes, usually so sharp and cool, were blazing. It was magnificent. The challenge was intoxicating.

I didn't move. I kept my body close, leveraging the sheer size difference and the closed-in space to box her against the vacant desk. The scent of her—something crisp, like green tea and ambition—was a dizzying contrast to the fury radiating off her petite frame.

“I told you what I want, Aurora,” I reiterated, my voice dropping to a gravelly murmur that I knew had undone dozens of women before her. With her, it felt like a declaration of war. “And judging by the way you’re breathing, you want it too.”

“You are a textbook narcissistic asshole,” she spat, the direct insult startling in its audacity. Most people, especially subordinates, spoke to me in carefully constructed compliments or terrified monosyllables. She seemed to relish tearing down my carefully cultivated facade of invincibility. “And no, I don’t want this. I want to keep my job, I want a clean professional record, and I want to walk out of this empty office without having to file a sexual harassment complaint against the CEO. Now, step aside.”

She tried to shoulder past me, but I didn't budge. I let my hand fall, not to grab her, but to brace it on the desk just above her shoulder. The movement trapped her again, my arm a solid, undeniable barrier. Her eyes flicked down to my hand, then back up to my face, where a slow, predatory smirk was beginning to form.

“A complaint?” I mused, the word tasting bitter and irrelevant on my tongue. I leaned in, closing the remaining distance so my words brushed her ear, causing a shiver to run visibly down the delicate curve of her neck. “And risk everything you worked for just to report an office flirtation? Don’t be naive, Aurora. You know how these things work.”

She recoiled as if stung, pulling her shoulders back so sharply that her spine went rigid. “I know how they work when the man is a powerful tyrant. But I’m not a woman who folds, Zane. You should know that better than anyone.”

Zane. She had dropped the formal address, and the casual use of my first name was an arrow aimed right at the center of my possessive pride. She was right; I did know she wouldn’t fold. She hadn't folded when she walked out on me at the hotel, leaving my ego in tatters. She hadn’t folded when she sat through that terrifying meeting with a perfectly straight face. And she certainly wouldn’t fold now, even if her job—her very livelihood—was at stake.

This was what I loved about her. The fire. The defiance. It didn't make me want to crush her; it made me want to tame her. To see that fire burn only for me, to watch that defiance melt into pleasure only under my touch.

I straightened up, giving her a small, calculated measure of space. I needed to shift tactics. Brute force and intimidation were my default, yes, but they hadn't worked on her before, and they wouldn't work now. I had to appeal to her mind, to her ambition—the things that had led her right back to me in the first place.

“You applied here because you’re good,” I stated, my voice losing its predatory edge and taking on the smooth, authoritative tone I used in the boardroom. “The best, in fact. HR told me you interviewed circles around the other candidates. You want this career. You want the corner office, the power, the money.”

Her breathing had evened out, a sign that she was forcing herself to listen, to analyze. I saw the calculating flicker in her eyes, the professional overriding the outraged woman.

“That’s correct,” she conceded, her chin lifting in a gesture of unwavering pride.

“Then let’s make a deal,” I proposed, the words falling with the weight of gold bullion. I took another step back, moving to the mahogany table in the center of the office and leaning against it, crossing my arms over my chest. I wanted her to see me not just as the man who wanted to take her, but as the man who held the keys to her kingdom. “You want your career. I want you.”

She laughed, a short, humorless sound that was more of a scoff. “A trade? My body for a promotion? Is that the level we’re operating on, Mr. Wilson?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” I countered, a flash of genuine irritation crossing my face. “If I wanted a fleeting affair with an ambitious employee, I could pick from the line outside my office door. I’m not offering a transaction, Aurora. I’m offering a pact.”

I pushed off the table and walked toward her again, stopping just outside her personal bubble this time. I kept my gaze steady, unwavering, forcing her to hold the connection.

“The truth is, I haven’t been able to think about anything or anyone else since you walked out on me at the hotel,” I admitted, the confession shocking even myself with its raw honesty. I had never chased a woman; I had never needed one. But I needed her. “You are a distraction, a magnificent, beautiful distraction. And I cannot have a distraction inside my company, where my focus needs to be absolute.”

Her brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion battling the anger. She hadn't expected the blunt admission. Good. Keep her off balance.

“So… you want me to leave?” she asked, the question tentative.

“No,” I said simply. “I want you to be mine. Officially. We maintain a professional, arm’s-length working relationship at the office. You focus entirely on your job. You exceed every expectation, you rise through the ranks, and I will ensure that the door to the top is unlocked for you. But outside of these four walls, you belong to me.”

I saw the wheels spinning. Her ambition was a palpable thing, a bright, fiery star in her constellation. She knew what I was offering: a fast-track to a career most women only dreamed of. And she knew what the price was: her autonomy, her freedom, and her heart, if she was careless enough to let me take it.

“And what about the ‘distraction’?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper now.

“The distraction will be channeled,” I said, leaning in, letting my words carry all the possessiveness I felt. “If you are mine, I will know where you are. I will know what you are doing. I can focus on my work, because I will know you are waiting for me at the end of the day. The obsession that’s been crippling my focus will finally have a center, a purpose. You will be my purpose outside of this company.”

I reached out, and this time, she didn't flinch. My thumb gently stroked the soft skin of her jaw, right beneath her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut for a split second, and in that moment, I knew I had her. Not completely, not yet, but I had created the perfect, irresistible trap. It played on her biggest weakness—her desire for success—and her biggest strength—her self-control.

“Think about it, Aurora,” I whispered, my voice dangerously soft. “The alternative is I continue to pursue you here, in the hallways, in the meetings, turning your professional life into a nightmare of unwanted attention until you either quit in frustration or break and give in. Or, we define the terms now. We control the narrative. We keep it strictly professional here, and deliciously personal everywhere else. Your career flourishes. Your passion… is satisfied.”

I removed my hand and stepped back completely, walking to the door and throwing it open. The hallway was still empty, bathed in the cool light of the setting sun filtering through the window at the end of the hall.

“Go home, Aurora,” I commanded, my voice firm, businesslike. “And when you wake up tomorrow, I expect an answer. A simple yes or no. But I want you to know this: if the answer is no, I will pursue you relentlessly, professionally, and personally, until your entire life is consumed by me. I will be your best asset or your worst liability. The choice is yours.”

I watched her walk past me, her spine ramrod straight, her expression a careful mask of indecipherable thought. She didn't look back. But as she rounded the corner toward the elevator, I felt a deep, profound satisfaction. I hadn't broken h

er, but I had laid out a path she couldn't afford to refuse. Zane Wilson always got what he wanted, and I had just made sure that for Aurora, getting what she wanted meant finally giving in to me.

The hunt was officially over. The capture was about to begin.