Chapter 7

Lush’s POV

The air in the study dropped to sub-zero temperatures. I could feel the violent vibration of his anger buzzing through his muscles. Slowly, he pulled his cock out of my aching body, leaving me empty and dripping onto the table.

He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back until I was forced to look at his face. His eyes were no longer sharp blue; they were a terrifying, dark void of absolute fury. His own blood, his own son, had crossed the line into his territory. "Damian," Alexander whispered, his voice dangerously calm. "He touched you?"

"No! No, we just talked," I sobbed, my legs shaking so badly I could barely stand as he let go of my hair.

Alexander didn't answer. He walked over to his desk and picked up a heavy, custom silver embosser used for sealing corporate documents. He walked back to me, his face a mask of predatory, unyielding ownership. He pushed me back onto the table, flipping me onto my stomach.

He pressed the cold, metal edge of the corporate seal firmly against the high skin of my thigh, right beneath my hip, pressing down until the heavy metal bruised the flesh, leaving a deep, unmistakable indentation that would turn black and blue by morning.

"A reminder," Alexander growled, his breath hot against my ear as I wept from the sting. "A reminder for my son, and a reminder for you. I do not share what I own. Not with blood. Not with anyone."

He stepped back, adjusting his clothes with a cold, detached arrogance that made me crave his touch all over again. I lay on the table, sticky, marked, and completely broken by his power.

Before he could speak another command, the sharp, digital ring of his encrypted phone shattered the silence of the room. Alexander frowned, walking back to his desk and sliding the phone across the wood. He pressed it to his ear.

His head of security spoke two words into the line.

"It leaked."

The two words hung in the suffocating air of the study like a death sentence. Alexander did not blink, his jaw locking so tight the muscle beneath his stubble twitched with violent restraint. He kept the phone pressed to his ear, his gaze dropping to where I still lay exposed and trembling on the edge of the conference table.

The cold silver embosser was still heavy in his hand, a physical weight matching the sudden drop in my stomach. I scrambled to pull myself up, my legs shaking violently as the phantom burn of his rough intrusion mixed with the terrifying reality of his security chief's message. The dark void in his eyes grew even deeper, a cold wall slamming down over the raw fury that had just filled the room.

"Which outlet?" Alexander asked. His voice was no longer a growl; it was an icy, flat line that froze the blood in my veins. He listened for three seconds, his chest rising and falling in one slow, deliberate breath.

"Assemble the executive legal team in the main boardroom. Pull our media liaisons off the grid. Nobody speaks to the press until I dictate the script." He ended the call without waiting for a reply, tossing the encrypted phone onto the mahogany desk. It slid across the polished wood, the screen immediately lighting up with a barrage of secondary notifications.

I tried to smooth down my ripped dress, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grab the fabric. The wetness on my inner thighs felt cold now, a visceral reminder of what we had been doing just moments before the world collapsed. "Alexander? What leaked?" I whispered, my voice cracking as I took a tentative step toward him.

He didn't answer me. Instead, he snapped open his laptop with a sharp, aggressive flick of his wrist. His fingers flew across the keyboard, the bright blue light of the screen reflecting in his pupils. Within seconds, a massive banner headline populated the financial news network’s homepage. Even from across the room, the bold black letters screamed across the screen, accompanied by a gallery of high-resolution images.

The media bomb had officially dropped.

A major global financial outlet had published an anonymous, highly detailed exposé detailing the secret affair between the billionaire CEO of Voss Industries and his best friend’s twenty-two-year-old stepdaughter. The article didn’t just suggest the relationship; it provided undeniable, graphic proof.

The first photo showed me stepping out of the private penthouse elevator downtown, my red dress clinging to my body, my face perfectly illuminated by the lobby lights. The second image was worse. It was a shot taken through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his high-rise corporate office, capturing Alexander holding me against his desk, my skirt pulled up, his hands locked onto my hips in a position of unmistakable, raw dominance.

"Oh god," I gasped, covering my mouth as tears finally spilled over my eyelashes. My vision swam as I stared at the screen. The text below the photos painted me as a calculated corporate opportunist, a home-wrecker exploiting a high-profile divorce for financial gain, using my body to manipulate one of the most powerful men in the country.

Alexander’s eyes remained fixed on the livestock ticker at the bottom of the page. Voss Industries shares were already in a vertical freefall. The red numbers flashed rapidly, billions of dollars of market value evaporating in a matter of minutes as panic hit the trading floor.

The public scandal of an ongoing, volatile affair mixed with an unfinalized, high-asset divorce was the ultimate trigger for investor panic.

Before I could speak, my own phone began to vibrate violently against the table where I had dropped it earlier. The screen lit up with a relentless stream of incoming texts and missed calls. The name flashing across the screen made my chest tighten until I couldn't breathe.

Mark. My stepfather.

The texts flooded the screen in rapid succession, each one more furious than the last. *Lush, answer your phone right now. What the hell is this on the news? Tell me this isn’t you. Are you sleeping with Alexander? In his office? He is my best friend, you ungrateful little brat. You have ruined this family. Answer me!*

I stared at the messages, my thumbs hovering over the glass, but the sheer terror of facing the man who had raised me left me completely paralyzed. The world outside this room was suddenly screaming for my blood, tearing my character to pieces before I could even process the warmth of Alexander’s semen still dripping down my legs.