Chapter 2

Bridgett

I stopped breathing. The elevator began to rise, the sensation of gravity increasing the weight in the pit of my stomach.

Jordan Hayes was too close. Much too close.

I pressed my spine against the cool metal wall, clutching my purse like a shield. "I... I don't know what you're talking about, sir. I'm just here for the assistant interview."

My voice trembled. I hated it.

He didn't back away. Instead, he leaned in, bracing one hand against the wall beside my head. The expensive fabric of his suit brushed against my arm, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

"The assistant position is with HR on the 20th floor," he murmured, his voice rough, like gravel over silk. "We just passed it."

I glanced at the digital display. Floor 35.

"Then please let me out," I whispered.

"No."

The word was absolute. A command.

"You smell like lavender," he said, his eyes darkening to a shade of midnight blue that looked almost black. "Clean. Innocent. But there’s something underneath..."

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply near my neck. I shivered violently.

"Five years," he muttered, more to himself than to me. "I’ve been chasing a ghost for five years, and she walks into my elevator wearing a polyester skirt."

The elevator dinged. Floor 40. Penthouse Office.

The doors slid open. Jordan stepped back, the mask of the cold CEO sliding back into place, though the fire in his eyes remained.

"Come with me, Miss..." He snatched the resume from my trembling fingers. "Abbott, ¿right?. Into my office. Now."

It wasn't a request.

I followed him because my legs moved on autopilot. I followed him because if I didn't get this job, my children would be homeless.

«It’s him» my mind screamed. «The stranger in the mask. The father of my children»

I stared at his broad back as he strode through the glass-walled corridor. The Alpha energy rolling off him was suffocating. If he found out about the triplets... if he knew I had hidden his heirs for half a decade...

He would destroy me.

I had to get through this interview, get the job, and make sure he never saw a picture of Theo.

Jordan threw himself into the massive leather chair behind his mahogany desk and pointed to the seat opposite him.

"Sit."

I sat on the edge of the chair. "Mr. Hayes, about my qualifications—"

"I don't care about your typing speed, Miss Abbott." He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, fingers steeped. "I care about why my wolf is currently pacing inside my chest, demanding I lock the door and keep you here."

My mouth went dry. "I—I think that’s inappropriate workplace conversation."

He smirked. A predatory, dangerous smirk that made my toes curl. "We aren't working yet."

Suddenly, the heavy oak door burst open.

A woman strode in. She was tall, stunning, and smelled like expensive perfume and malice.

Evelyn. The VP of Operations. I recognized her from the business magazines.

"Jordan, the Japanese investors are waiting for the conference call," she snapped, not even looking at me. Then, she paused. She turned her head slowly, her eyes sweeping over my worn-out shoes and my fraying blouse.

A sneer curled her red lips. "Who is this? Did housekeeping get lost?"

I shrank back, humiliation burning my cheeks.

Jordan didn't even look at Evelyn. His gaze was fixed on me.

"This is my new personal assistant," Jordan said calmly.

Evelyn gasped. "What? You fired the last one an hour ago! And look at her, Jordan. She looks like a stray cat."

"She’s hired," Jordan growled. The air in the room grew heavier, the pressure dropping. His Alpha voice. "Get out, Evelyn."

Evelyn flinched. She shot me a look of pure venom—a promise of future pain—and stomped out, slamming the door.

I stood up, my heart racing. This was too much. Too fast.

"Mr. Hayes, I appreciate the offer," I stammered, backing toward the door. "But I... I need to check my schedule. I have responsibilities. I need to go."

I reached for the door handle.

Click.

The electronic lock engaged with a sharp sound.

I froze.

I turned around slowly. Jordan was standing now. He walked around the desk, stalking toward me with the grace of a panther.

"You aren't understanding the situation, Bridgett," he said softly, using my first name. The sound of it on his tongue felt like a caress and a threat all at once.

He stopped inches from me. I was trapped between the hard wood of the door and the wall of muscle that was Jordan Hayes.

He placed a hand on the door, right next to my hip, boxing me in. He leaned down, his face so close I could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

"You tried to run from me in the elevator," he whispered, his eyes flashing gold. "You’re trying to run now."

"I have to go," I breathed, panic rising. «The kids. I have to pick them up»

"No," he growled, his nose brushing against the sensitive skin below my ear, inhaling deeply. "You aren't leaving this building, Bridgett. Not until I figure out what you’re hiding from me"