The point of no return

FIVE

​Emily

​“Meeting adjourned,” Richard declared, standing up with deliberate slowness and buttoning his dark tailored jacket.

​The sound of leather folders snapping shut broke the heavy silence. The executives and corporate lawyers scrambled out of the room like rats fleeing a sinking ship, eager to escape the radioactive tension radiating off the long conference table. Within thirty seconds, the double doors clicked shut, leaving a suffocating quiet in their wake.

​Only two people remained in the vast, glass-walled boardroom.

​Seth and me.

​I stood at the head of the table, the blood pounding so loudly in my ears it sounded like war drums. My knuckles turned stark white as I gripped the high leather back of my chair, the only thing keeping my knees from buckling under the sheer weight of what had just been demanded of me.

​Seth didn't rush to leave. He stood up with infuriating grace, unhurriedly adjusting the silver cufflinks at his wrists. His calm, immovable demeanor was an unbearable, maddening contrast to the hurricane raging inside my chest.

​“Look at me,” I demanded, my voice tight and dangerous, cutting through the stillness.

​He raised his dark eyes, stepping around the long mahogany table until he was standing barely two feet away from me.

​“I am looking at you, Emily,” he said, his voice smooth, low, and completely unbothered.

​“You’re going to help me stop this,” I said, taking a sharp step forward directly into his personal space, refusing to let his sheer height or broad shoulders intimidate me. “You don’t want this absurd marriage contract any more than I do. We can hire an independent legal team. We can find a loophole in the corporate covenant together.”

​Seth stood his ground, looking down at me with calculated intensity. His dark gaze swept slowly over my features, taking in my flushed cheeks, my trembling chest, and the fierce, unyielding fire burning in my eyes.

​“What makes you think I want to stop it?” he asked quietly.

​My heart did a sudden, chaotic, violent drop, plunging straight to the soles of my shoes. “What?”

​“I am a pragmatic man, Dr. DelaRosa,” Seth said, taking another half-step forward until the polished tip of his dress shoe brushed mine. The rich, intoxicating scent of his cologne—cedar, rain, and fresh leather—wrapped around my senses, thick and overwhelming. “Merging our operations creates the largest, most advanced medical research and clinical network in North America. My father’s life work—and your father’s legacy—depend entirely on this transition.”

​“And you’re willing to trade your personal freedom for corporate expansion?” I asked, letting out a harsh, bitter laugh that echoed off the cold glass panes. “You’re willing to chain yourself to a woman who openly despises you?”

​“Despise is a remarkably strong word for someone you clearly can’t stop thinking about,” he murmured smoothly, his eyes dropping to my lips for a fleeting second before locking back onto mine.

​“You arrogant, selfish, manipulative bastard—”

​I lifted my hand, intending to push him back, but before I could complete the gesture, Seth’s hand shot out with terrifying speed.

​His fingers wrapped around my wrist.

​He didn't squeeze hard enough to bruise, but his grip was absolute, halting my momentum mid-air like a steel band.

​I gasped, my breath catching painfully in my throat as he used his hold to pull me an inch closer, eliminating every last shred of air between us. My chest brushed against the solid wall of his suit jacket. I could feel the radiant warmth of his body, the firm rhythm of his pulse through his sleeve, and the sheer physical power he was holding in check.

​“Listen to me very carefully, Emily,” Seth whispered, leaning down so his mouth was hovering mere millimeters from my ear. His deep voice was dark, velvet, and utterly uncompromising against my skin, sending an unwanted, betraying shiver straight down my spine. “I don’t care about your anger. I don’t care about your pride, and I certainly don’t care about whatever broken past you’re running from.”

​I tried to yank my arm back, but he held me firmly in place, his thumb pressing lightly against the quick flutter of my pulse at my wrist.

​“What I do care about,” Seth continued, his breath hot against my collarbone as his gaze held mine prisoner, “is protecting what belongs to me. And as of twenty minutes ago, your hospital—and your future—are tied directly to mine.”

​“I will never belong to you,” I breathed, staring directly into his dark, penetrating eyes, refusing to let a single tear fall, refusing to show a fraction of weakness even as my heart hammered frantically against my ribs. “You can force a signature on a corporate document, Seth, but you will never own me.”

​Seth’s gaze lingered on my face, taking in my defiance, my ragged breathing, and the fierce resistance radiating off every inch of my body. Slowly, a faint, dangerous smirk touched the corner of his lips.

​“We’ll see about that when you’re walking down the aisle to me next month,” he murmured softly.

​He released my wrist, his fingers brushing against my skin a second longer than necessary before he pulled back. He smoothed his suit jacket, turned on his heel, and strode toward the heavy double doors.

​He walked out without a backward glance, leaving me standing completely alone in the silent boardroom—trembling with unadulterated rage, shock, and an undeniable, terrifying heat that I hated myself for feeling.