Semua Bab THE BILLIONAIRE WHO STOLE MY FIRST NIGHT: Bab 11 - Bab 20

"Mr. Hawthorne, I can't—" My protest died as he pulled me into a private elevator, his fingers still wrapped around my wrist like a brand."You can and you will." His voice was steel wrapped in velvet, the CEO tone I'd never heard him use, and it sent shivers down my spine for entirely different reasons than his whispered promises had three weeks ago.The elevator doors closed, sealing us in together, and suddenly the space felt impossibly small. He released my wrist but didn't step back, his proximity overwhelming, his cologne—that same expensive scent from our night together—triggering memories I'd been desperately trying to suppress."This is inappropriate," I managed, pressing myself against the elevator wall, trying to maintain some distance. "I'm your employee now. There are rules—""Fuck the rules." His hand slammed against the wall beside my head, caging me in, and I saw something wild in his eyes—fury and desire and confusion all tangled together. "You're E. You're the woman

I didn't go home.The thought of facing my mother's fury, my father's disappointment, and their united campaign to make me quit Hawthorne Industries and focus on becoming Mrs. Richard Pemberton III made my skin crawl. So instead, I did what Evelyn Ashford had never done before: I turned off my phone, returned to my desk, and buried myself in work.If they wanted me to be professional, I'd be professional. If they wanted me to prove I belonged here, I'd prove it. And if Liam Hawthorne thought one heated conversation in his office meant he could claim me as his own personal crusade, he was about to discover that I could erect walls just as high as his.Even if maintaining those walls felt like dying by degrees."Wow, you're still here?" Jasmine appeared at my desk at six-thirty, her bag already slung over her shoulder. "Most people don't pull late nights their first day.""I have a lot to catch up on," I said, not looking up from the competitive analysis I'd been assembling for the past

The family meeting was an ambush disguised as dinner.I'd known it the moment I walked into our formal dining room and found not just my parents, but Richard, his father—Harold Pemberton II, patriarch of the Pemberton dynasty—and our family attorney, Mr. Whitmore, all seated around the table like a tribunal preparing to pass judgment."Evelyn, sit." My mother's voice was ice wrapped in silk, gesturing to the empty chair directly across from Richard. "We have important matters to discuss."I remained standing, my new leather portfolio clutched like a shield. "If this is about my job—""Sit down." My father's tone left no room for argument. "Now."I sat, feeling the cage walls closing in, feeling E's fire dimming under the weight of twenty-four years of conditioning to obey.Harold Pemberton spoke first, his voice carrying the authority of old money and older power. "Miss Ashford, your recent employment at Hawthorne Industries has created... complications.""Complications for whom?" I k

The nausea hit me like a freight train at nine-seventeen on Thursday morning, right in the middle of Marcus's presentation about quarterly projections.One moment I was taking notes, following along with the revenue forecasts, and the next the room was spinning, my stomach lurching violently, cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to will the sensation away, but it only intensified—a rolling, churning sickness that made my entire body revolt."Excuse me," I managed, stumbling from my chair and fleeing the conference room, barely making it to the bathroom before I was violently, thoroughly sick.I knelt on the cold tile floor, my forehead pressed against the porcelain, my entire body shaking. Food poisoning, I told myself. Just bad food from last night's dinner. Except I'd barely eaten at last night's dinner, too stressed about Richard's ultimatum to manage more than a few bites of salad.When the worst had passed, I cleaned myself up with tre

"No."The word came out stronger than I felt, cutting through Liam's certainty like a knife. I stepped back from his embrace, creating the physical distance I desperately needed to think clearly."No?" He looked at me like I'd spoken a foreign language. "Evelyn, you're pregnant with my child. You've been disowned by your family. Where exactly do you think you're going to go?""I don't know." I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold together the fragments of my composure. "But I can't just move into your penthouse and let you solve all my problems with your checkbook. That's not independence. That's just a different kind of cage.""It's not a cage—it's support. There's a difference.""Is there?" I met his eyes, letting him see my desperation. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're doing exactly what Richard tried to do—using money and power to control the situation. The only difference is your intentions are kinder."His jaw clenched. "I'm trying to protect you a