CHARLOTTAThat night, when Bruce returned from the investors’ call, I decided to confront him about how he treated me earlier, and he flared up. He told me bluntly, “I have a feeling you’re not who you claim to be, and I no longer trust you.”The suite was dimly lit, shadows stretching long across the walls as the tension between us reached its boiling point. I stood near the window, arms crossed, teeth clenched, trying not to scream.“You no longer trust me?” I snapped, voice low but shaking. “You never did.”Bruce paced like a storm barely contained, his eyes glinting with something darker than anger—frustration, confusion, maybe even desire. He stopped short, facing me fully.“You give me every reason not to.”I felt the air choke in my throat. “Then why keep me here? Why not just fire me, Bruce?”He stepped forward, slowly, deliberately, like a predator with no leash. “Because,” he growled, “I can’t fucking stay away from you.”My breath hitched.And then he moved.One second I wa
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