CHAPTER 9- RHEA'S POV

“Calm down, Rhea,” I whispered to myself under my uneven breath.

I shifted in the seat, feeling uncomfortable and hot. I didn’t feel this hot even during summer.

“Can I get you anything while you wait?” Darnell’s pretty assistant asked with a smile, and I shook my head.

“He’ll be here any minute. Please make yourself comfortable.”

Like that was supposed to ease my nerves.

“Thank you,” I gave her a small smile, and she stepped out of the office.

He’d be here any minute. My stomach churned at the thought.

For some reason, his assistant wanted me to wait in his office.

In his office of all places!!!

I had planned how I was going to ignore him until I was done with this internship, but how was that possible when I was in his office on the first day?

I tugged at the collar of my cotton shirt, trying to get some air. I should have worn something else.

My eyes tentatively moved around his office, trying to distract myself from the anxiety. It was too basic—from the interior down to the furniture—it didn’t look like it belonged to a CEO.

I closed my eyes. It wasn’t working.

I drew in a shallow breath and let it out, over and over again, until my breathing finally evened out.

My eyelids slowly opened—and I froze.

He was in the office.

How had he gotten in?

My heart slammed violently against my ribs, so loud I was convinced he could hear it. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, tie slightly loosened, and his sharp gaze was fixed directly on me as he leaned against the desk.

He moved to the corner, and my eyes didn’t leave him. He poured a glass of water, walked back, and dropped it beside me.

My gaze shifted to the water, then back to him.

I’d been wondering what my reaction would be if I saw him again—but there I was, just staring.

I had imagined all the things I would say to him.

Like how he had been wrong to treat me like a whore.

But none of that seemed to matter anymore.

“Drink up. You don’t look good,” he said, then turned and took his seat.

My throat was dry, so I picked up the glass and took more than a sip.

“Did you miss me?”

I nearly choked on the water as coughs bubbled out of me. Our eyes met, and this time I saw it clearly.

Thirst.

But not for water.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It was like there was a switch that shut my brain off whenever I was around him.

“Why… why are you… doing this?” I managed to force out.

He ignored the question, pulled out a form, and slid it across the desk.

“Fill it.”

I finally looked away from him and down at the paper. It was the internship form I had already filled online.

“I’ve filled it before.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Then fill it again.”

I blinked, confused. It was about ten pages—this would take at least twenty minutes.

I picked up the form, about to leave, when his voice stopped me.

“Fill it here.”

My brows furrowed, but I didn’t argue. I sat back down and started filling it out again, all the while feeling the weight of his eyes on me.

What was the point of doing this all over again?

If there was one thing I didn’t understand, it was what drove him. What his motive was. And most especially… why me?

I was going to be his sister-in-law for goodness’ sake.

He wasn’t doing anything—just staring. And somehow, that made it worse. The pen in my hand trembled as I flipped through the pages.

“Did you miss me?”

There he went again. That same question.

But there was something different about the way he said it that time—something I couldn’t ignore.

I raised my head, and his dark brown eyes were already on me, intense… burning.

“No.”

Yes. I sure fucking had. I still did.

“Are you sure?”

I gulped, my throat suddenly dry. “Yes.”

He stood.

My heart slammed against my chest like a runaway train as he walked toward me.

Then he was behind me.

Too close.

He crouched low, leveling himself with me, one hand gripping the edge of the chair.

His mouth hovered near my ear, and a shockwave shot through my body. His scent—cedar and something deeper, something darker—wrapped around me, intoxicating with every breath I took.

“I’ll ask you again…” he whispered, his voice low.

“Did. You. Miss. Me?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady myself, trying to stop my body from betraying me.

“No!”

I could have just said yes and ended it.

But I didn’t.

Because a part of me wanted this.

Wanted to see how far he’d go.

How far I’d let him.

I had imagined this for days… and now that it was happening, I didn’t want it to stop.

His hands moved to my shoulders, gripping them firmly, sending a sharp jolt through me that stole my breath.

His breath trailed along my neck, slow… deliberate… and his lips brushed the edge of my ear.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he murmured.

So low I almost didn’t hear it.

But I did.

And my heart stuttered.

Me too.

One of his hands moved to my neck, and my breathing instantly intensified.

His fingers wrapped around it, firm but controlled, his thumb brushing slowly over my skin before he tilted my head back, forcing me to look at him.

I could see it clearly now—

the hunger in his eyes.

And I wondered… if he could see mine too.

Our eyes locked, neither of us looking away, and then his grip tightened.

My breath hitched.

Then disappeared.

Air refused to come in as his hold constricted, my chest rising desperately, my lungs burning. My vision blurred at the edges, heat rushed to my face as it turned red, my eyes stung before tears spilled over.

“What was going to be your answer?”

I nodded weakly, my body already giving in, tears slipping down the sides of my face.

“I need a verbal.”

His grip tightened even more, and panic flooded through me as darkness crept in.

“Y… yes…” I choked out, my voice breaking.

Immediately, his hold loosened.

I gasped, dragging in air like I had been underwater for too long, my throat raw, a metallic taste settling on my tongue as I struggled to breathe properly again.

His hand slid up, fingers brushing gently through my hair as if nothing had just happened.

“You have nice hair.”

I stared at him, completely baffled.

He had just choked me—

and now he was complimenting my hair?

“You’re fucking crazy,” I coughed out, my voice hoarse.

A low, calm chuckle left him, and it sent a chill down my spine.

He walked back to his seat and sat down like nothing had happened, like I hadn’t just almost passed out in front of him.

My chest was still rising unevenly, my body trembling slightly as I tried to steady myself.

He was a fucking nut job.

If I hadn’t said yes… I was sure I’d have been on the floor right then.

And the worst part?

He didn’t look even a little bit sorry.

The way he had choked me that time… it was different from that night.

There was something about him I didn’t understand.

Something darker.

A knock sounded on the door, and I turned just as Amy stepped in.

“The meeting,” she reminded him—then her eyes flicked to my neck, lingering on the faint red marks.

He gave her a small nod, unfazed.

She hesitated for a second before quietly closing the door behind her.

He pushed his chair back and stood, adjusting his cuffs, buttoning his shirt like nothing was out of place. Like I wasn’t sitting there trying to recover.

“Finish up that paperwork.”

He didn’t even look at me.

He walked past me, heading for the door, and for a second I thought he was just going to leave—

—but he stopped.

Turned slightly.

“Welcome to Blackridge,” he paused making sure I met his gaze. “Rhea Bennett.”

And then he walked out.