chapter 10

Louis Pov

Victor’s hand on her hair. Her flinch. The fear in her eyes.

It played in my head on a loop. All through the pointless meeting. All through Victor’s smug talk of mergers and leverage. I heard none of it. I only saw the way Sierra had stepped back, as his touch had burned her.

Something dark and hot coiled in my stomach. I need to put myself between them. A need to make sure he never looked at her like that again.

“You’re not listening, Louis,” Victor said, leaning back in his chair. He had made himself at home in my office, his presence like a stain on the room.

“I heard enough,” I said, my voice flat. “Your proposal is garbage. You’re leveraging debt I don’t have. Get out.”

He smiled, not offended. “Still the same. All bark. But where’s the bite?” His eyes drifted to the door, toward the kitchen. “Maybe you’re distracted. By new… staff.”

I stood up slowly. “Leave my house, Victor. And do not come back unless you’re invited.”

He stood too, buttoning his suit jacket. “Fine. But this isn’t over. You have something I want. And I always get what I want.”

He left then, his laughter trailing behind him.

I waited until I heard the front door close. Then I walked out of my office and straight to the kitchen.

She was there. She turns to me, shoulders tense. She was whisking something in a bowl, but her movements were shaky.

“Sierra.”

She jumped, nearly dropping the bowl. She turned, her eyes wide. “Is the meeting over?”

“Yes.” I walked closer. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She turned back to her bowl, but I saw the way her hands trembled.

“He touched you.”

She stopped whisking. “It was nothing.”

“It was nothing.” I came to stand beside her at the counter. I could smell the vanilla in the batter. I could smell her. Something sweet and clean. “He will not do it again.”

She looked at me then. Her blue eyes were huge in her face. “Why would you care?”

The question hit me like a physical blow. Why did I care? She was my employee. This was my house. That was reason enough.

But it was a lie.

“You work for me,” I said, the words sounding hollow. “No one touches what’s mine.”

Her breath caught. “I’m not yours.”

The air between us crackled. We were not talking about Victor anymore.

I looked at her mouth. I remembered the taste of her. Not from memory, but from a ghost of a feeling. A deep, old hunger.

She must have seen it in my eyes. She took a step back, hitting the counter behind her. There was nowhere to go.

“Louis…” My name was a whisper. A warning. A plea.

I should have walked away. I had dinner in three hours. Guests coming. A deal to close.

But my hand lifted on its own. My fingers brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. Her skin was so soft. She froze, her eyes locked on mine.

I could feel her heart beating. Or maybe it was mine.

“Tell me the truth,” I said, my voice low. “Have we met before?”

Panic flashed in her eyes. She shook her head. “No.”

“You’re lying.” My thumb traced the line of her jaw. “I can feel it. I know your skin. I know the sound you make when you’re scared.”

She was trembling now. “Please don’t.”

“Please don’t what?” I moved closer, my body almost touching hers. “Please don’t remember? Or please don’t forget?”

A tear slipped down her cheek. It undid me.

I dropped my hand and stepped back, running a hand through my hair. What was I doing? I was her boss. She was scared of Victor, scared of this house, scared of me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, the words strange in my mouth. I never apologised.

She wiped the tear away quickly, turning back to her bowl. “It’s fine. I should finish this.”

The dismissal was clear. I had crossed a line. I had scared her more.

I stood there for a moment, watching her. The set of her shoulders. The pride in her spine even now. She was so strong. And so fragile.

“The guests will arrive at seven,” I said, my voice back to business. “Celeste will be here. She will act like the lady of the house. Ignore her.”

She nodded, not looking at me.

“And Sierra.” I waited until she glanced up. “If Victor comes near you again, you tell me. Immediately.”

She just nodded again.

I left the kitchen, my own pulse racing. I went to my room and stood under a cold shower, trying to wash away the feeling of her skin under my fingers.

It did not work.

Later, dressed in a dark suit, I stood by the window as the cars arrived. Important people. Investors. Partners. Celeste floated among them, beautiful and cold, playing her part.

But my eyes kept going to the kitchen door.

Sierra brought out the first course herself. She had changed into a simple black dress. She looked professional. She looked stunning.

She did not look at me once.

Celeste watched her like a hawk. I saw her say something to Sierra as she served her. Sierra’s face went pale, but she just nodded and walked back to the kitchen.

Halfway through the main course, I excused myself. I could not sit there anymore.

I pushed through the kitchen door.

She was at the sink, her head down, her shoulders shaking.

“What did she say to you?”

Sierra jumped, turning quickly. Her eyes were red. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.”

She shook her head, wiping her eyes. “She just reminded me of my place. That I’m the help. That I don’t belong here with all of you.”

Anger, hot and sharp, rose in my chest. “This is my house. You belong wherever I say you belong.”

“Do I?” she snapped, a flash of fire in her eyes. “Or do I belong in the kitchen, out of sight, while you entertain your girlfriend and your rich friends?”

“She is not my girlfriend.”

The words were out before I could stop them.

Sierra stared at me. “What?”

“Celeste. She is not my girlfriend. It’s an arrangement. For show.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Because I cannot stand you thinking I want her. Because I cannot stand you thinking you are less.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

We stood there in the quiet kitchen, the sounds of the party a distant hum. The space between us felt charged, like before a storm.

“You should go back,” she whispered. “Your guests will wonder.”

I did not move. “Let them wonder.”

I took a step toward her. Then another. She did not back away this time. She just watched me, her breath coming fast.

I was going to kiss her. I knew it. She knew it.

But then the kitchen door swung open.

Marcus stood there, his face tense. “Louis. We have a problem. It’s urgent.”

I closed my eyes, fighting for control. “What?”

“A security alert. From the gate. Someone tried to get onto the property. They’re gone now, but… they left something.”

Sierra’s hand flew to her mouth.

“What did they leave?” I asked, my voice cold.

Marcus looked at Sierra, then back at me. “A note. Addressed to her.”