Pregnant by the CEO I Was Hired to Destroy

Chapter 1

My hands were shaking, but I couldn’t afford to let my fingers slip.

98%... 99%...

The loading bar on Julian Thorne’s encrypted hard drive crawled at an agonizing pace. I held my breath, the blue light of the monitor reflecting in my eyes, illuminating the dark, sprawling expanse of the CEO’s penthouse office.

Downstairs, the Thorne Industries annual gala was in full swing. I was supposed to be pouring champagne, a nameless caterer in a sea of billionaires. Instead, I was plugging a flash drive into the devil’s personal computer, stealing the financial records that would send him to federal prison.

100%. Transfer Complete.

"Got you," I whispered, yanking the drive free and slipping it into the lace of my thigh garter beneath my uniform skirt.

I turned to leave, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"I wouldn't take another step, Miss Vance."

The voice was like dark velvet scraping against ice. It didn't come from the door. It came from the shadows in the corner of the room.

My blood turned to lead.

A single desk lamp clicked on. Julian Thorne was sitting in a leather armchair, a glass of amber whiskey in his hand. He wasn’t wearing his tuxedo jacket. His bowtie was undone, hanging loosely around his neck, and the top buttons of his shirt were open, revealing the faint edge of a dark tattoo on his collarbone.

He was breathtakingly gorgeous. And he was the man who drove my father to an early grave.

"Mr. Thorne," I managed to say, forcing my voice to remain steady. "I—I was lost. I was looking for the catering kitchen."

Julian stood up. He was six-foot-three of pure, predatory grace. He set his glass down, the clink echoing like a gunshot in the silent room. As he walked toward me, the air in the room seemed to evaporate. He smelled of cedarwood, expensive scotch, and danger.

He stopped inches from me. I had to tilt my head back to meet his piercing, slate-gray eyes. They were cold, calculating, dissecting me layer by layer.

"Lost," he repeated softly. He reached out, his long fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of my skirt, hovering dangerously close to where the flash drive rested against my thigh. I suppressed a shiver.

"Yes," I breathed.

Julian’s lips curved into a cruel, knowing smile. He leaned in, his mouth hovering just an inch from my ear. His breath was warm, sending a treasonous spike of electricity down my spine.

"Tell me, Elara," he whispered. "Do all lost caterers know my personal, 32-character alphanumeric computer password?"

My breath hitched. He knows.

He stepped back, his eyes flashing with a terrifying darkness. "You have two choices. You can walk out that door, and my security team will hand you over to the FBI for corporate espionage. Or..."

"Or what?" I choked out, my facade crumbling.

His gaze dropped to my lips, lingering there for a fraction of a second too long. "Or you come to work for me directly. As my personal assistant. You want to see my secrets so badly, Elara? I’ll show them to you."

I stared at him, my mind spinning. He was offering me the keys to his kingdom. It was exactly what I wanted. So why did it feel like I had just walked into a trap?

"When do I start?" I asked.

Julian smiled. "Take off your apron. You start right now."