INICIAR SESIÓNAnna is a pretty girl with dreams as wild as fire and eyes that can pierce into the soul of the most rigid person. She comes into The Archer Group as an intern interested in Investment Analysis, but is forced to be in the taxation department. She knows nothing about herself, as all her life has been spent trying to get to work in the greatest Venture Capitalist Company in New York. But the CEO of the Archer Group dies and hands the company over to his son, who is the last person who can make a company work. An artist with a specific sexual preference, private, reluctant, borderline rude, too brilliant for his own good, Carson Archer never plays by the rules. Anna only wants a chance to prove that she is better than writing reports. But Investment Analysis might just be the last thing on her mind when his gaze lands on her. At the Archer Group, falling for the boss isn't just career suicide. It’s heartbreak too. Because Carson Archer doesn’t do love.
Ver másAnna’s POV
“Yes,” the girl with the wild blonde whispered, her head thrown back, and her back ached. I moved on my bed, my thighs pressed tight, face flushed, and a sudden warmth in the pit of my stomach. When the girl moaned again, the sound travelling through every core in my body, I left the phone by my side and closed my eyes, allowing the feeling to wash through me.
I didn’t need to check the phone to know what was going on. I could tell from the sounds, from his groans. I knew her fingers had dug into his back. I knew that anytime soon, she was going to reach her peak.
My breathing got shallow, and I reached for the boards of my bed, biting hard on my bottom lip.
“Fuck it,” I whispered, reaching slowly for the band of my shorts. A hand splayed on my flat belly, I lowered it, my eyes closed, my body anticipating.
But the wild blonde stopped moaning suddenly, and my room was filled with the shrill sound of my phone ringing.
“Fuck!” I sighed again, taking a deep breath. My legs quivered as I reached for the phone, hitting the green icon without checking who it was.
“Hey!” My breath came out in short gasps, and I tried to clear my throat, intent on starting again. But I heard the low chuckle in the background, and at once, I slumped back into the bed.
“Luke,” I muttered. “What do you want?”
“Good morning to you, too, Anna.” That fucking amusement in his tone. “It is a… good morning to you, right? I mean, from the sound of your voice, I can tell that your day is already off to a great start.”
“Luke, it is too early for this.”
“Really? Because last I checked, it was almost 8:30, and…”
“What?” My back shot out of the bed suddenly, and I pulled the phone away from my ears, checking the time. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
“You need to stop using that expression,” Luke drawled. Didn’t he have anything better to do today? “I mean, it’s not like you do enough of it.”
My bare feet thudded on the wooden floorboards as I rose to the bathroom, placing my phone on the sink and grabbing a toothbrush. “I am so late for work right now, so I don’t really have the time for this.”
“You should be thanking me, you know?” I heard something open at the other end of the phone. He was probably by the window of his stunning apartment, contemplating what a great view it was. While I was here, stuck doing a job I had no interest in.
It was one of the reasons we broke up. Luke was spontaneous, free like a bird, unavailable. I couldn’t deal with that.
“You would still have been focused on some silly p**n if I hadn’t called.”
I turned on the faucet, then leaned back to stare at my reflection in the mirror. A flushed skin, hazy eyes. Grace is going to have a party when she sees me this way.
“I have to go bathe, Luke. What do you want?”
“I was clearing out my apartment when I came across some of your stuff,” he muttered, all the amusement gone. “You should come get it.”
“Luke, you can just…”
“No, Anna. I am not… I want you to come pick them up yourself. I can’t have a stranger in my house.”
“But…”
“We are exes, Anna,” he sighed. “Not enemies. I’m sure that picking up your stuff shouldn’t be any problem.”
“Fine. I’ll call you.”
I hit the end button without waiting for his response. It was going to be a really long and boring day at the office doing a taxation report. Luke couldn’t make it any worse.
The water from the shower did nothing to quench the warmth in my stomach, but it helped me focus on other things. With a towel wrapped around my frame, I moved into my room, hurriedly shrugging on a short corporate skirt made of tweed, a camisole, and a matching blazer.
Getting my bag, I walked into the living room, straight to the table to grab an apple. That was when my phone dinged with an email from the company.
“Important Memo.
The CEO, Mr Archer, of the Archer Group, passed away sometime this month. A formal announcement will be made later today. With the funeral concluded within the family, the new CEO will be coming into the office today to get a feel of the space. I’m certain you all will act with great care and professionalism as we welcome the change.
Have a great day.
Grace Mason.
Head, Taxation and Managing Director, Archer Groups.”
“P.S., Anna Lane, you are late again.”
“Shit!”
Forgoing the apple, I raced out of my house, barely remembering to lock the doors. Because I didn’t earn enough as an intern of the Archer Groups to be able to afford a car, I ran the seven-minute distance to the bus stop, out of breath and clutching my knees.
There was no bus around, and a long queue of impatient business class individuals was waiting for the next one.
My phone rang from my purse. I knew it was Grace. I couldn’t pick up. Not here.
A car honked in the distance, but I didn’t care who it was until it rolled to a stop in front of me. I raised my eyes towards the tinted windows as it rolled down slowly.
“Hey, baby,” the man behind the wheel drawled, angling his head. He had long dark hair, caressing his forehead. Just like the man from the little scene I was watching this morning.
I narrowed my eyes, wondering why he was talking to me. My lips moved, just as I raised my hand to wave. But a wave of floral perfume hit me in that moment. I hadn’t decked out of the way before her shoulders collided with mine.
“Sorry,” she muttered without looking at me. “He isn’t interested in … girls like you.”
ANNAI froze, my hand hovering over the mouse, the phone still clutched loosely in my fingers. My stomach had turned somersaults the moment Carson had called. I hadn’t expected it—not today, not like this. And yet, here I was, sitting in the office, heart hammering in my chest, trying to act normal while my brain screamed every possible scenario that could go wrong.When I finally stood, my legs felt like lead. I straightened my blouse, smoothed down my hair, and reminded myself that I was a professional. I could do this. I had done it before.I had *worked* before.I took a deep breath and approached the conference room where Carson was waiting, papers strewn across the table, his back to the door as if he hadn’t noticed me arrive. My hand hesitated on the door handle.I stepped inside.“Anna.” His voice was calm, precise, professional. But it had that edge that made me flush instantly. My throat went dry.“Sir,” I said, the word sticking in my mouth like glue. I tried to stand tall,
CARSONThe office smelled like stale coffee and printer toner, but I barely noticed. My attention was elsewhere, focused entirely on the spreadsheets, projections, and reports spread across my desk. Everything had been fine yesterday. Everything should have been fine. And yet, there was a gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach that told me otherwise.That’s when I saw her.Anna.She was sitting at her desk like she belonged there—which, of course, she did—but it was the way she moved, the sharp precision with which she reviewed documents, the slight furrow of concentration on her brow. I felt it before I even consciously registered it: a tension that was hers, but somehow it radiated, drew me in.Grace’s voice cut across the room.“Anna, study this file. Not just your department’s, but Carson’s,” she said, tone clipped and reluctant. She didn’t even look at me, as if I didn’t exist, which I knew she wished she could have pulled off. But her hands shook slightly, betraying the fact
ANNAI couldn’t focus.Not on the bus, not on the elevator, not even as I fumbled through my morning emails like a zombie trying to appear human. My mind kept circling back to that kiss—the way Carson had pressed me against the wall, the heat of him, the feel of his lips tracing my neck.I shook my head hard. No. No, I could not let this invade me like this. Not here. Not at work. Not after everything.But the memory kept coming anyway. The way his teeth had grazed my skin ever so lightly. The faint pressure of his hands on my waist. The quiet murmur of my name against my skin.I pressed my palms to my face and sighed, trying to will it away. Professionalism was key. I would survive this, I told myself. I had to.When I stepped into the office, I tried to anchor myself in normalcy: hair combed, blouse buttoned, posture impeccable. I greeted Grace with a courteous nod, smiled at my coworkers, and went straight to my desk, opening my laptop and pretending that spreadsheets were more com
ANNAThe shock didn’t come gently.It slammed into me all at once, hard enough to steal the air from my lungs.Not when his mouth claimed mine.Not even when my body responded like it had been waiting for permission.It came when my mind finally caught up.My hands flattened against his chest, fingers splayed, palms warm against solid muscle. I pushed—not hard, but enough to signal intent.“Carson,” I breathed, breaking the kiss just barely. “We can’t—”The rest of the sentence never made it out.He didn’t step back. He didn’t hesitate. He simply tightened his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, closing the distance I’d tried to create like it had never existed.My breath hitched sharply.“Stop,” I said, but the word came out weak, unraveling as soon as it touched the air.His mouth found mine again instantly, swallowing the protest, turning it into something softer, slower. The kiss changed—not less intense, but deeper, more deliberate, like he was trying to make me forget why






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