He got me earlier. Oh, he got me so good. Almost pushed me into panicking and revealing my true identity. But this was the power he had over me. He knew my dark, little secret, and if I continued to tiptoe around him, he would turn me into a puppet.
There must be something he wanted if he hadn’t blurted it out yet. Hell, every man wanted something. And I had become curious about what could be the desires of James Donald.
“Fraser?” He played at surprise. But his delivery fell flat. He would never make it in Hollywood.
“Surprise to see you here.” Swinging his feet off the table, he grabbed the coffee mug with one hand, the other slipping into his pocket as he strode forward. “Saw how you uh…” He raised a half shoulder in a shrug, his tone easy, amused. “Didn’t participate much in my class earlier.”
“My bad.” I folded my arms across my chest, my back against the door, anxiety buried at the darkest corner of my mind.
“So…” He tilted his head to the side, but the seemingly welcoming smile didn’t touch his eyes which were nothing but a canvas of mischief. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“Aren’t you tired of the act, Mr. Donald?” I raised a brow. “Especially when you are not so good at it?”
He chuckled drily. “I’m lost here, Fraser. Is there something I’m missing?”
“You have a personal grudge against Julian Bourdet.” His jaw clenched, anger flashing in his eyes.
Bullseye.
I tilted my head, eyes gleaming with mock curiosity. “Who was it? Your sister? Your mom? Oh, wait, your girlfriend?” I snapped my fingers, a grin touching my lips.
Something shifted in his expression. His eyes darkened, grip tightening around his mug. I just cracked something open. It was reckless, a gamble, but it worked.
“I figured you had something you want talk to me about.” I pushed off the door, crossing the room and stopping just a foot from him. “I’m tired of all the games and sneaking around. Tell me, what do you want? Why have you been trying to unsettle me?”
He moved, so fast, I didn’t have time to blink, and closed the space between us.
Fear slithered down my spine.
He was taller than me. But nothing compared to Zaghan—Callan’s height.
He gripped my jaw, fingers digging into my skin, smudging my carefully applied makeup.
“What your father did is unforgivable, Juliette Bourdet.” His voice dripped with venom.
My pulse spiked at the mention of my forgotten name, but I arched a brow, feigning nonchalance. “So what? You’re going kill me?”
He might as well do it and do it now. Nothing was more dangerous and irrational than a man on the quest for vengeance, made to wait around.
To my question, his lips curled, menacing. “Maybe.” Then his smirk shifted into something sinister. “But where’s the fun in that?”
His free hand lifted, finger brushing my lips. I recoiled, disgust curling in my stomach.
“Nothing will be more satisfying than making this such a huge mess,” he mused. “Imagine the headlines, your pretty face plastered everywhere.”
My throat closed.
“I could write the article myself.The Hidden Daughter of Julian Bourdet. Presumed Dead. Alive and Thriving.What do you think? Sounds catchy, doesn’t it?”
The room felt smaller, the walls leaning in. I gulped, flickering my gaze to the door. Kenzo should walk in…any moment now.Please.
Donald’s finger slipped down my throat, settling on my collarbone. “But I don’t think you want that kind of fame,” he said softly. “Do you?”
My skin crawled, like something had burrowed deep inside.
“Get your hands off me,” I hissed, my voice trembling despite my effort. “Or you’ll regret it.”
He laughed. Not loud. Not cruel either. Just…casual. “Regret? Even if I killed you right here, I won’t lose a night of sleep.” His finger dipped beneath my collar, grazing the chain of my necklace, skimming against bare skin, too close, too intimate.
