“Look, Violet, I’ve got about a million things I need to do today, so this will have to be brief.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize dismantling people’s lives was such an inconvenience to you.” It’s a low blow and one that hits the mark. Anger flashes in his eyes, his unshakeable control straining at the seams.
“If that’s some thinly veiled dig at the Braxton acquisition—or any other acquisition I’ve been involved in—I’ll say the same thing to you as I do to all the other bleeding hearts who don’t understand.” His tone is measured, but there’s a sharpness beneath it. “That company was mismanaged and hemorrhaging money. It would have gone bankrupt, leaving employees with nothing and investors at a total loss. Braxton was alreadysinking—I salvaged what mattered and gave it a new purpose. The tech assets we saved have created thousands of new jobs in the long run. But sure, if you need me to be the beast, I’ll wear the mask. It makes no difference to me.”
He barely pauses for breath, and I hate that I’m hanging on every word. I have to admit, he’s a sight to behold when he comes out fighting, conviction carved into every angle of his face. It feeds something dark and reckless in me. Something that shouldn’t crave his dominance but does, anyway.
“And here’s another thing,” he growls, pulling me out of my twisted fantasies. “Elliot Hargreaves would love nothing more than to sink this company. If he knew you worked here, he’d never rest—he’d push you for any scrap of information he could get his hands on. And in an environment like Velvet Lounge, where I conduct business with high-profile clients, it reflects badly on me if my employees have to take weekend jobs to get by.” His expression hardens, and then he drops the bomb. “But if you’d taken the time to go to your desk this morning instead of storming up here, you would have discovered that I doubled your salary. Which more than covers any shortfall.”
“You’ve doubled my salary?” I echo, eyes wide and blinking.
“Yes, Violet.” His phone vibrates against the antique oak of his desk, the persistent buzzing like an angry mosquito. He glances at it with irritation, snatching it by the hand.
“Thank you,” I say, my brain already jumping through the endless possibilities the extra cash will provide. A flicker of the tenderness I glimpsed on Friday night softens his gaze—but it’s gone in an instant, the shutters slamming back down.
“Are we done here, Violet? I need to take this call.”
“Yes, we’re done,” I say, rising to leave.
I want to tell him he should have spoken to me, that I deserved to know his plan instead of being steamrolled by it. But that’s nothow he operates. He moves through life on his terms, and I need to know when to quit. I’ve already pushed him far enough today.
“Next time you want to see me, Violet, book an appointment like everyone else.” He picks up the call without waiting for a response, his “Yes?” clipped and impatient—a clear signal I’m dismissed.
Bethany is still eyeing me as if she needs to call the men in white coats when I step outside.
“You’re still alive, then?” she quips, shaking her head in disbelief.
I pretend to take my pulse, grinning. “Yep, just about hanging in there.”
“Do you know in all the years I’ve worked for him, anyone who dared to do what you just did would have been thrown out on the street.”
“Perhaps he’s mellowing.” I shrug.
“Nope, if only. You must be special,” she says, humor dancing in her eyes.
“Oh, pur-lease,” I say, turning towards the elevator. “A special kind of annoying, he’d probably say. But don’t worry, Bethany,” I wink. “I won’t do it again.”
Seb is already at his desk when I arrive, his wavy brown hair resembling something close to a bird’s nest. I’m at least fifteen minutes late, thanks to my detour to the senior executive level. Mark’s coat is strewn over his chair, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I make a mad dash for my desk, diving onto my chair, powering up my laptop in record time, safely in place before Mark ambles back with a coffee in hand. He doesn’t comment when he sees me, so I must be safe for now.
“That’s the fastest I’ve seen you move since Papa John’s did that two-for-one deal.” Seb snickers.
“Yeah, thank god Mark didn’t notice. Must be my lucky day.” I navigate straight to my emails, scrolling down until I click onHR. A gigantic grin fills my face when I see my pay increase confirmed in black and white. This is going to help a lot.
“What are you doing this weekend, Seb? Fancy another soccer game?”
“For sure. Who knew it could be so thrilling?” He grins, leaning back in his chair, his arms folded behind his head. “Tell your sister I’m printing T-shirts with her face on them.”
I freeze, horror creeping across my face. “She’d never speak to us again, Seb.”
He bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “I’m joking. Do you think I have time to swan about printing T-shirts? I can barely find time to buy my own clothes.”
“Hey, I just remembered,” I say, glancing at my phone as a reminder pops up. “I’m meeting Millie for coffee after work. Want to join?”
“Oh, no, sorry,” he says, his face turning serious. “I’ve got my advanced origami class.”
“Really?” I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. Most of the time, Seb’s a teenager trapped in a twenty-six-year-old’s body.
“You’re so gullible, Vi.” He lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’ll be there.”
