LOGINJerry Whitmore is a proud and untouchable CEO. Known for his sharp mind and colder temper, he built his empire from precision, control, and an iron sense of discipline. No one dares to challenge him — not employees, not competitors, not even the media. Until one reckless girl splashes mud on his tailored suit…and insulted him in public . Emma Carter is hotheaded, stubborn, and desperately in need of a job. When a careless stranger ruins her morning before an important interview, she doesn’t hesitate to retaliate — unaware that the man she publicly insults is the very CEO of the company she’s hoping to join. The next day, she walks into her interview… and freezes. The stranger she humiliated now sits behind the desk as her new boss. Jerry isn’t angry. He’s intrigued. Emma isn’t apologetic. She’s defensive. Forced to work under the man she offended, Emma soon realizes that Jerry’s calm composure hides a dangerously observant nature. And Jerry discovers that Emma is the only person who doesn’t bow to his power. In a world where pride clashes with attraction, who will surrender first?
View MoreA week went by.Emma counted it in the nights she didn't sleep well. it was a week now Isla wasn't in the house. Mrs. Whitmore said she had a modeling shoot, that she'd been called away on short notice . Emma was in Jerry's study , it had rained all morning and the windows were streaked with it. There was a document between them on the desk — forty pages, a bid for a site past the ring road — and Jerry had his sleeves rolled up and his glasses on and was going through it page by page with a pen."Here," he said, tapping. "Third clause. That's not what we agreed to with their lawyer.""That's not what was in the draft I sent.""No. It isn't." He made a mark in the margin. "So somebody changed it after you sent it.""Who has access?""Four people. And I know which one." He turned the page. "Page six. The indemnity clause. Read it to me."Emma read it out loud.They worked like that for an hour, side by side, and it was the most normal hour she'd had all week.Then something hit the
Mrs Whitmore had them in the small morning room.Beth sat up straight with her hands in her lap. Emma sat beside her and wished she'd brought a different blouse."I'm not sure why you're here," Mrs Whitmore said, to Emma. "This is a family matter.""Beth asked me to come.""She did.""Yes."Mrs Whitmore looked at her daughter. "You asked her to come.""I did." Beth's voice was steady at the start. "Mum, she was there. She's a witness. You can't have a family matter about something that happened to me and then not let me bring somebody who was *there*—""Mind your tone.""I'm not being rude—""You're being rude, Beth." Mrs Whitmore set her cup down. "You came into my room at seven in the morning shaking like a leaf and told me a story about a warehouse,when you should be resting. Go on, then. Tell me the story again, and this time with your witness."So Beth told it.She got about ninety seconds in.Mrs Whitmore's head came round. "Pardon?""I said," Emma said, clearing her throat, "th
Emma didn't know if she should tell him.She stood in that hallway with her shoes still in her hand and watched him come down the last three steps, and in the space of two seconds she went through it forty times. *He'll believe you. Of course he'll believe me . .* And then, right behind it: *With what? What have you got? A wig, a taxi receipt, and two phones that stayed in a car.*No photograph. No recording. Nothing anyone could hold up.Jerry came off the last step and stopped in front of her."I'm going to say this slowly," he said, "because I'm angry, Emma, and it's in the morning, and I'd rather say it slowly than say it badly.""Jerry—""Beth was supposed to be back at nine. At eleven I was ringing jenny her friend , and Jenny hadn't seen her since six, and at midnight I had six men on the north road." His voice was very level, which was worse than shouting. "And you were not at home. So I'll ask you once. Where were you.""I can explain.""Your hand is shaking."Emma
Then she got her hand in the back of Beth's hoodie and pulled, hard, and dragged her sideways into the corner behind the crates, and got her down, and got her own back against the wall. The warehouse was silent. Then Isla's voice, and it came across the whole space like it had been standing next to them. "Who was that?" Silence. The click of a gun carried a long way in a place like that. Emma heard it clearly, and her stomach went to water. "You know," Isla called, pleasantly, "I really would advise you to come out." Beth was crying silently against Emma's shoulder. Emma put one hand flat over her mouth and her other arm round her head and pressed her own mouth against the top of the wig and didn't breathe. "I'm going to count," Isla said. "And then I'm going to come and look." Nothing. "Don't let me find you," Isla said. "Because what I can promise you is only death." Beth's whole body jerked and her elbow went back and caught a stack of flat-packed cartons behin


















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