Page 128 of Brutal Heir

Not knowing what else to do, I followed him.

I had to practically run in my heels to catch up with his long strides.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I caught up to him at the elevators.

He kept his gaze forward until the doors opened.

Placing a hand at my lower back, he half ushered, half pushed me inside.

We rode in silence.

Crippling, tense, excruciating silence.

The moment the doors opened, Sebastian marched through the reception area, past his own office, and to my assigned one.

I winced when he slammed my laptop and boards onto the empty desktop. “Here is where you were assigned to work, and here is where I expect to find you when I want you.”

So others wouldn't hear him yelling at me, I closed the door behind me.

He shrugged out of his suit jacket and threw it over my closed computer.

He then crossed his arms over his chest. “Where is your cell phone? Why aren’t you answering it?”

I knew he recognized the outfit as one he'd bought me and had to resist the urge to tear it off my body in a fit of pique. “My phone is in my purse, which is in the desk drawer. I didn’t want it with me during the meeting with Florian.”

Truth was, I suspected Sebastian was somehow tracking me through my phone, and that was how I was losing out on all those apartment opportunities, so I’d started carrying it less and less.

He crossed to the desk and opened the drawer.

Dragging my purse out, he unzipped it.

I stepped closer. “Hey!”

With my cell phone in his hand, he glared at me. “When I call, you answer. Period.”

I snatched the phone from his grasp. “Fine.”

“Why are you working from that desk downstairs and not here?”

Because I haven’t earned an executive office yet.

Because the rest of the team is one floor down, and it’s weird.

Because I can smell your cologne and hear the murmur of your deep voice through the shared door.

With a shrug, I said, “It’s just easier.”

“From now on, if Florian needs to meet with you, he can do it in here.”

“What does it matter where I work?”

He fisted his hands and pressed his knuckles against the desktop as he leaned forward. “It matters because I say it matters.”

Raising my chin, I spoke through clenched teeth as I gathered my boards together and needlessly rearranged them to avoid meeting his angry gaze. “Is there anything else, sir?”

He leaned back. “Yes. You’re accompanying me to a dinner tonight.”

I froze, the board I held slipping from my fingers and landing with a soft thud on the floor.