CHAPTER 9- RHEA'S POV

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

I shifted in the chair, feeling hot and restless. I hadn’t felt this warm even in the middle of summer.

“Can I get you anything while you wait?” Darnell’s beautiful assistant asked with a polite smile.

I shook my head quickly. “No, thank you.”

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

As if that could calm me down.

She stepped out of the office, closing the door softly behind her.

He’ll be here any minute. My stomach twisted at the thought.

For some reason, his assistant had asked me to wait in his office, his office of all places.

I had spent days planning how I was going to avoid him until this internship was over. But how was that supposed to happen when I was sitting in his office on the very first day?

I tugged at the collar of my cotton shirt, trying to let some air in. I should’ve worn something else.

My eyes drifted around the room, searching for anything to distract me.

The office was surprisingly simple. Clean lines. Dark wood. Minimal décor. Nothing flashy. Nothing like what I expected from someone like Darnell.

I closed my eyes and took a slow breath in, then another, then another.

When my breathing finally steadied, I opened my eyes and froze.

He was already inside, and my heart slammed violently against my ribs. How had he gotten in without me hearing him?

He stood beside the desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tie loosened slightly, his gaze fixed directly on me, watching.

Without a word, he moved to the sideboard, poured a glass of water, then walked back and placed it beside me.

My eyes flicked from the glass to his face.

I had imagined seeing him again a hundred different ways. I’d imagined anger. I’d imagined telling him exactly what I thought of him. I’d imagined demanding to know why he left a pay like I was a hooker. But now that he was in front of me, I couldn’t say anything at all.

“Drink,” he said calmly, moving toward his chair. “You look flushed.”

My throat was dry enough to hurt, so I picked up the glass and took a long sip.

“Did you miss me?”

I nearly choked as a fit of coughing escaped me and the water went down the wrong way.

When I looked up, our eyes met, and this time I saw it clearly: raw hunger.

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

“Why…” I coughed lightly. “Why are you doing this?”

He ignored the question entirely. Instead, he opened a drawer, pulled out a file, and slid it across the desk toward me.

“Fill it out.”

I frowned and looked down. It was the same internship form I had already completed online.

“I already filled this in.”

“Do it again.”

I blinked. “It’s ten pages.”

“Then start now.”

I picked it up, about to leave with it, when his voice stopped me.

“Here.”

My jaw tightened as I sat back down and uncapped the pen. Fine. If this was some twisted power game, I’d play along.

I started filling out the first page, pretending I couldn’t feel his eyes on me, but I could feel them every second.

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, and 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 and 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 and sending a sharp jolt through me that stole my breath.

His breath trailed along my neck, slow and 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, and my eyes stung before tears spilled over.

“What is 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 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 and turned slightly.

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

And then he walked out.