Chapter 2: The Kiss

Bella's POV

The plastic smile on the secretary's face froze instantly.

"Mr. Blackwood, I... I just thought she wasn't worthy..."

"Get out." Adam’s voice wasn’t loud. But the tone was terrifying.

The secretary knees buckled, and for a second, I thought she was going to drop to the carpet and beg for her life.

She didn't dare lift her head to look at Adam's face. She just nodded frantically and practically ran out of the office.

I stood frozen.

Why was she so afraid of him? It was as if she believed he might actually rip her throat out right there on the rug.

Before I could process the thought, Adam turned around.

Those bottomless, red eyes locked onto me.

He took a step forward. His legs were long, eating up the distance between us in seconds. His massive shadow fell over me, swallowing me whole.

"You are not Jessica," he said.

It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact, delivered with the cold indifference of someone discussing the weather.

My heart skipped a beat. "I..."

Adam raised his wrist, glancing at a watch that probably cost more than my entire life's earnings.

"I’ll give you three minutes," he said calmly. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't throw you out of this window right now. Why are you impersonating my fiancée?"

"I'm Bella," I stammered, my throat feeling like sandpaper. "I'm... I'm Jessica's cousin."

"Two minutes," Adam counted down, his voice dropping a degree. "The Blackwood family doesn't deal with liars. If you’re just here for money, you can get out."

"It's not for money!" I blurted out.

"Then what?"

My brain short-circuited. I couldn't think. I just squeezed my eyes shut, clenched my hands into tight fists at my sides

"Because I admire you! I... I want to marry you!"

The moment they were out, my eyes snapped open, and my face instantly caught fire.

Oh my god.

I wanted to bite my own tongue off. I had never been this bold, this shameless in my entire life.

Adam let out a short, sharp laugh. It was a cruel sound. He took another step closer, forcing me to tilt my head back just to see his face.

"Admire me?" He sneered. "We have never met. What exactly do you admire? My balance sheets? My stock portfolio? "

"I..." I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Lies were useless against him. He saw right through me.

"One minute."

Adam’s patience evaporated. He turned his back on me and reached for the landline phone.

"It seems you have nothing to say. Security will be up here in thirty seconds."

No.

The image of Aunt Genevieve’s twisted, angry face flashed in my mind.

I could see the flames in the fireplace. I could see the rusty iron box—the only thing my parents left me—being tossed into the fire.

I can't lose it. I can't.

My mind went blank. Panic took the wheel.

My body moved faster than my thoughts. I sprinted across the room.

"Don't call!"

I lunged at him. To stop his hand from lifting the receiver, I grabbed his silk tie with both hands and yanked him down. I stood on my tiptoes and smashed my lips against his.

Adam’s body went rigid. Stone cold.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my lips against his icy ones. I had no idea what I was doing. I had never kissed anyone before. I was just desperate to buy time, to stop him from making that call.

I expected him to push me away. I expected to be thrown across the room.

But he didn't push.

Suddenly, a large hand clamped onto the back of my head, locking me in place.

It was aggressive. Punishing. His lips moved against mine with a rough dominance that made my knees weak. His tongue pried my teeth apart, sweeping into my mouth like a conqueror claiming new territory.

A scent hit me—cedar wood and cold rain. It was intoxicating.

My hands were trapped between us, pressed flat against his chest. Through the fine fabric of his shirt, I could feel his muscles—hard as iron, hot as a furnace.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

His heart was beating against my palms.

A strange sense of déjà vu washed over me. It felt exactly like the man in my dream.

The kiss went on, stealing the oxygen from my lungs. My brain turned to mush. My legs gave out, and I had to cling to his broad shoulders just to stay upright.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Adam pulled back.

I gasped for air, my chest heaving. My lips felt swollen and bruised. My whole body was vibrating with a strange, dizzying energy.

Adam looked down at me. His thumb brushed roughly across the corner of my mouth, wiping away a trace of moisture. His eyes were dark, swirling with something dangerous.

"Is this your reason?" he asked. "You think you can persuade me with your body?"

Humiliation exploded in my chest like a bomb.

Realization crashed down on me. I had just forcibly kissed a stranger. A dangerous, powerful CEO. Within five minutes of meeting him.

"I... I didn't..." I stuttered, my face burning so hot I thought I might faint.

"Didn't what? Didn't plan to climb into my bed?" Adam raised an eyebrow. His tone was laced with amusement and utter contempt. "Do you think a cheap trick like this works on me?"

I couldn't speak. The shame was suffocating.

I didn't dare look at him again. I turned and fled the office, running as if the devil himself were snapping at my heels.

---

8:00 PM. Blue Moon Restaurant.

"Bella! What the hell are you daydreaming about!"

A furious roar snapped me back to reality.

The tray in my hand slipped.

The restaurant manager Rick stormed over.

"That is the third plate this month! Do you have a brain made of sawdust?" Rick screamed, spitting as he yelled. "That Lobster Linguine is coming out of your paycheck! That's three days' wages gone!"

"I'm sorry, Rick. I'll pay for it..."

I dropped to my knees, frantically picking up the sharp pieces. A shard sliced into my index finger.

I barely felt the sting.

My mind was still stuck in that high-rise office. I could still feel the phantom pressure of Adam’s lips on mine. The hardness of his chest. The smell of cedar.

Why did I do that? Why did he kiss me back?

"Pay for it? With what?" Rick sneered, kicking a piece of ceramic toward me. "You aren't worth the price of the apron you're wearing. Hurry up and clean this mess. Don't let the customers see your pathetic face. You ruin their appetite."

Suddenly, the noisy chatter of the dining room died down.

I was still on my knees, scrubbing the grease from the floor tiles. Into my line of sight walked a pair of black, handmade leather shoes.

Rick’s attitude did a 180-degree flip instantly.

He stepped over me, practically bowing as he rushed toward the newcomer.

"Oh, my God." Rick rubbed his hands together, his face stretched into an oily grin. "Sir, we have the VIP room in the back, totally private. I'm Rick, the manager. I will personally serve you tonight."

But the man ignored Rick completely.

He just stood there, towering over everyone. His gaze was fixed downward. On me.

"I don't want your service," he said coldly. "Let her do it. Except her, I don't accept service from anyone."