Semua Bab RULE NO 1: DONT TOUCH DADDY!: Bab 51 - Bab 60

CHRISTIAN The air in the office is burning. I bring this girl here to monitor her closely, but it seems like I just ended up bringing in my weakness on a day when I have a lot going on at my desk. I stand there, looking down at her. Her fingers are still shiny with her wetness. Her legs are still wide open. The short black dress is bunched up high around her waist. She looks up at me with that same smart-mouth spark in her eyes, breathing hard, waiting to see what I am going to do. “Hi, boss.” I don’t speak. I reach up, loosen my silk tie from my neck with one hand, pull it free from my collar, and let it hang from my fingers. Her eyes track every single movement, watching the way my hand grips the dark fabric. "Get up." She stands up slowly, her movements deliberate. The second she is on her feet, I grab her, turn her around, and bend her forward over the wood desk. Her chest presses flat against the cold surface, landing right on top of the files and her own red l

IVYFew minutes later, he slowly pulls out of me. I feel the warm rush sliding down my leg. My knees shake so hard I can barely stand.He doesn't let me fall. He keeps his arm locked tight around my waist and helps me turn around. His fingers work at the knot on my wrists, untying the silk. He pulls the fabric away, and his fingers brush once over the red marks the tie left behind."You okay?" he asks.My voice is rough and dry. "Define okay."He lets out a real laugh. I couldn't help a breathless laugh, too.He helps me straighten up, pulls my black dress down over my hips, and catches me when I sway."Sit for a minute."He guides me over to the couch. I drop down onto the cushions, still trying to catch my breath, my chest heaving.He walks into the small bathroom attached to the office and comes back with a damp white cloth. He doesn't make a big deal out of it. He just hands it to me, turns his back, and starts fixing his clothes, pulling his tie back around his neck."This isn't

IVY I keep walking even though my bare feet are already raw and bleeding against the rough concrete sidewalk. My short black dress sticks to my sweaty skin. People glance at me as I pass—they see my missing shoes, the wet tracks of tears on my face, the way I keep looking back over my shoulder like a hunted animal—and then they look away just as quickly.The worst part is that I'm using Google Maps to navigate this route. I don't even know where I am.I spot an ATM.I need cash.My hands shake so badly it takes me three tries to feed my card into the ATM on the corner. I type my PIN wrong twice before I finally get the numbers right. The machine hums, coughs, and spits out a small stack of cash. I grab the bills, shove them straight down into the side of my bra where they are hidden, and keep moving.Suddenly, a taxi slows down right beside the curb.The driver rolls down his window and leans his head out. He looks like an ordinary, middle-aged man with a neutral face, but his eyes l

57 CHRISTIAN Ace walks back into the office, out of breath. "Security said she left. She was running when she was leaving the lobby." "I know," I say, staring at the screen. "I'm looking at her right now." "Maybe she left again to go see her friends or whatever," Ace offers, stepping up behind my chair. "No," I say instantly, pointing a finger at the screen. "Look at her feet. Ivy wouldn't leave this building barefooted unless she was wearing another pair of shoes, and she didn't have any with her. She left her heels right there by my desk." Ace frowns at the monitor. "She's running fast, boss. It looks like she wants to escape you." "She’s not running from me," I say, my voice dropping a fraction as I watch the terror on her face in the video feed. "Look at her eyes. Look at how she keeps turning her head. She’s running from… something else." I pull out my phone, dial her number, and put it on speaker. The subscriber you are trying to reach is currently unavailable— I snap

59 IVY The car stops. The engine hums and then dies. Christian gets out, his shoe crunching against the gravel. He walks around to my side, pulls the door open, and just stands there. He looks down at me, his dark eyes waiting. I don't move. I keep my back straight, my hands gripping my knees. "Come on," he says. "I can walk." "You can’t. Your feet are torn up." "I said I can walk," I snap. He doesn’t argue with me. He never argues when he’s already decided to win. He just reaches in, slides one strong arm under my knees, wraps the other around my back, and lifts me straight out of the seat. Instantly, I start pushing against his chest, my hands clawing at his shirt. "Put me down." "Stop." "I said put me down—" "You’re bleeding on the driveway," he snaps, his voice dropping low and heavy. "Stop fighting me for two minutes." He carries me straight into the house. I see Nancy. She's watching me from the shadows. But I don't spare her a second glance. He walks into the