All Chapters of His Dark Asset (R18): Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

"Well, well. Another private meeting with Mr. Sutherland. That's what, the third one this week?"I kept walking, clenching the heavy folder my supervisor had given me. Every step sent a sharp jolt through my ribs… a fresh injury I was desperately trying to hide.Two grueling weeks had passed since I was banished to the base-level archives.My days had become a monotonous blur of windowless room and the suffocating smell of decaying paper.I had buried myself in sorting decades-old files, desperate to make the basement my sanctuary.But the isolation wasn't absolute. Three times this week, the twenty-seventh floor had requested specific archival deliveries.Though I barely lingered in the Chairman’s office during those drop-offs, the mere fact that I was summoned upstairs had been enough to ignite the vicious rumor mill on the ground floor."I'm talking to you, Verity." Paige's hand grabbed my arm, spinning me around.She stood there with two other junior associates, Amanda and Jessica

The car glided to a seamless halt outside a towering, ultra-modern high-rise in the city's most exclusive zip code.My mind was still reeling. I could still taste him on my lips, could still feel the phantom weight of his hands on my skin, along with the terrifying, intoxicating way my body had simply surrendered without a single thought of self-preservation.The driver opened the door, and cool, damp night air rushed into the cabin, breaking the heavy spell that had settled over us.Adrian stepped out first, buttoning his suit jacket with fluid motion.When I hesitated, gripping the strap of my cheap backpack, he reached in and grasped my hand, pulling me gently but firmly out onto the pavement.Adrian didn't let go. Instead, he tucked my hand into the crook of his arm, his other hand settling heavily at the small of my back.It was a possessive, inescapable hold as he guided me through the gleaming, marble-floored lobby.The night concierge immediately stood at attention, offering a

The drive to my father's house took thirty minutes, but it felt like a lifetime.Adrian sat beside me in the cavernous back seat, his large hand covering mine on the leather console.His grip was firm and grounding, but beneath the bespoke suit, I could feel the tension radiating off him. The man the tabloids painted as a careless, heartless playboy was currently acting like a lethal shield, and it was entirely messing with my head."What if he's drunk?" My voice came out thin and fragile. "He's unpredictable when he's drinking.""Then I will handle it." Adrian's tone was absolute. "You’re not walking in there alone.""He keeps a gun in the hall closet.""So do I."My head snapped toward him. "What?"Adrian didn't elaborate, simply squeezing my fingers tighter.The car turned onto my street—a decaying stretch of houses that had seen better decades.Edwin’s place sat at the dead end, the yard choked with weeds and the siding peeling like a bad sunburn.My stomach churned violently. "I

I woke to sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, disoriented and groggy.For a moment, I didn't remember where I was.Then it all came rushing back. Adrian. The penthouse. The kiss in the car.I sat up, my heart sinking when I realized I was still alone. Adrian hadn't come back.The clock on the nightstand read 7:14 AM.I had forty-six minutes to get ready.I stumbled into the bathroom, my body protesting every movement.I caught my reflection in the mirror and barely recognized myself. Tangled hair, dark circles under my eyes, a fading bruise on my cheekbone that makeup could only partially hide.I looked like what I was: a girl running from something.The shower was massive, all glass with water pressure that felt like heaven. I stood under the spray longer than I should have, trying to wash away the confusion and shame clinging to my skin.When I finally emerged, wrapped in a towel that cost more than my entire wardrobe, I opened the closet. The clothes were still