CHAPTER 4

I didn't remember the elevator ride. I only remembered the feeling of Adrian’s hand resting on the small of my back, his body heat seeping through the thin fabric of my emerald dress, shielding me from the stares of the lobby. He didn't take me to the marketing floor. He took me straight to the penthouse executive suite.

The doors opened to a sprawling, luxurious space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. The decor was dark, masculine, and impeccably sleek.

"Sit," Adrian instructed gently, guiding me to a massive, plush leather sofa in the corner of his private office. He handed me a glass of ice water, his fingers brushing against mine, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

I sat on the edge of the cushion, clutching the glass with both hands to hide their trembling. "Mr. Vance... Adrian... you didn't have to do that. He's your brother. Your father will be furious. You just destroyed his career over me."

Adrian walked around his massive mahogany desk, but he didn't sit. He leaned against the edge, crossing his arms, his stormy eyes fixed on me. "I didn't destroy his career, Chloe. His own stupidity did. I merely accelerated the timeline."

"But the stolen work..."

"I've known about the stolen work for three weeks," he confessed smoothly. "I was waiting to see if he would confess. When he didn't, I planned to terminate him at the end of the quarter. But this morning, when I heard what he said to you in the conference room... I decided I couldn't wait another three months."

My head snapped up. "You... you heard him?"

"My office is directly above the fourteenth floor. The vents carry sound," he said, his jaw tightening. "I heard every word. I heard him call you heavy. I heard him call you a beast of burden." He pushed off the desk and took a slow step toward me. "And then I heard him tell you to abort your child."

The glass in my hand slipped, splashing ice water onto the thick carpet. He knew. He knew about the baby.

"I..." I choked out, my hands flying to my stomach, instinctively covering the soft curve of my belly. A deep, burning shame washed over me. I felt grotesque. I felt like a burden. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I didn't plan for this to happen. I know it's messy, and I know I'm not... I'm not what you're used to. I'm too big, I'm a mess, and now I'm pregnant with a baby whose father wants me to get rid of it. I'm sorry you had to deal with my drama."

"Stop," Adrian commanded. The word wasn't angry; it was fiercely authoritative.

He closed the distance between us, stopping just inches from where I sat. He reached down, his large, warm hands gently wrapping around my wrists. He pulled my hands away from my stomach, his touch firm but incredibly careful.

"Look at me," he murmured.

I looked up, my vision blurred with tears.

"Chloe, do you have any idea how long I have watched you?" he asked, his voice dropping to a rough, gravelly whisper. "Do you think I just noticed you today? I have watched you for two years. I watch you when you stay late to fix Liam's mistakes. I watch you when you share your lunch with the stray cats in the alley. I watch the way you take up space in a room, unapologetic and vibrant."

His thumbs traced the inside of my wrists, his eyes dropping to my lips before rising back to my eyes. "Liam is a boy who plays with dolls. He wants something small, fragile, and easily controlled. He doesn't understand that a man like me... a man who builds empires and commands thousands... doesn't want something fragile."

His hands slid down from my wrists, his palms sliding up my arms, over my shoulders, and coming to rest on my waist. His large hands spanned the width of my hips, his fingers pressing into the soft, plush curves that Liam had so cruelly mocked.

"I want this," Adrian whispered, his voice thick with a raw, undeniable hunger. He squeezed my waist gently, pulling me an inch closer to the edge of the sofa. "I want your softness. I want your strength. I want the woman who feeds him muffins and works twice as hard as anyone else in that building. You are breathtaking, Chloe. And the thought of him making you feel small makes me want to burn this city to the ground."

A sob tore from my throat. For three years, I had shrunk myself. I had worn baggy clothes, I had skipped meals, I had apologized for my existence. And here was this powerful, devastatingly handsome man, holding my waist like I was the most precious thing in the world, worshipping the very curves my ex had despised.

"He told me to give him back his gifts," I whispered, my voice breaking. "The necklace. The bags."

Adrian’s eyes darkened, a flash of pure, unadulterated possessiveness flaring in his gray depths. "You will give him nothing. In fact, you will never see him again. Because as of ten minutes ago, you no longer work in marketing."

I blinked, confused. "What?"

"You are my new Executive Assistant," Adrian stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Your salary is tripled. Your office is right outside this door. You report only to me. And you are going to help me clean up the mess your ex left behind, because I have a company to run, and I need the smartest, most capable woman in this building by my side."

"You... you can't just promote me because you feel sorry for me," I stammered, my heart hammering against my ribs. The way he was looking at me, the way his hands felt on my waist... this wasn't just professional. This was something else. Something dangerous.

"I don't feel sorry for you, Chloe," he murmured, leaning down until his face was inches from mine. I could smell the rich scotch and sandalwood on his skin. "I am claiming you. There is a difference."

Before I could process the weight of his words, the heavy glass doors of the executive suite burst open.