ISABELLA’S POV
The elevator doors opened.
He stepped out first and I followed him, not that I wanted to. But because I had to.
Because there was no way in hell I was going to let him walk away after that.
We walked down the long corridor toward his office and he didn’t even look back for once. Just kept walking, his long, purposeful strides eating up the distance between the elevator and his office like he was on his usual morning schedule and not... not whatever the hell this was.
I caught up just as he pushed the door open. I slipped in behind him before it closed.
He paused for the briefest second when he realized I had followed him but he didn’t say anything and he didn’t turn.
I stared at his back.
That arrogant, unreadable posture.
He walked over to his desk and removed his watch, moving with precise practiced movents, and then gently set it on the desk like it was worth a thousand dollars── loosened his tie, and opened his laptop──like that was the priority right now.
"Mr. Walton—" I started, but he held up a hand.
"Your lunch break is over. I suggest you return to your desk."
I stared at him. "That’s all you’re going to say?"
And then I snapped.
"Are you serious right now?"
His fingers stilled above the keyboard.
"I an it, Mr walton. What the hell was that in the elevator?"
He didn’t look up. "You’re upset."
"Oh, brilliant observation," I said sarcastically. "You accost on the street, stop an elevator to questioned like so kind of crazed lunatic, and then just tell to go back to work? I’m curious, what type of ga are you playing at, Mr. Walton?"
He tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. "I’m not playing a ga."
"Oh really? Because it sure feels that way. Are you out of your mind?" I knew my voice was raising to a shriek, but I was confident, and I didn’t care. That rush of anger ca over like a wave and I took out all the fear I had.
His jaw clenched and he told . "Don’t talk to like that."
"Or what? You’re going to kiss again? Fire ? Is that how you deal with insubordination? I’m pretty sure that is sexual harassnt, Mr. Walton."
"I’m not like that."
I scoffed. "Then what exactly are you like? "
Still nothing. Just that maddening silence, like he was calculating every word before saying it.
His jaw flexed as he finally said, "I lost control."
"No kidding."
"It won’t happen again."
I laughed— a loud, bitter, disbelieving laugh. "Oh, well, that’s good to know, now that’s solves everything, doesn’t it?"
"I didn’t plan it."
"Oh, you didn’t plan it?" I repeated, my voice shaking. "You pushed the ergency stop, Adrien." I didn’t even address him as Mr. Walton anymore.
"You challenged , and I reacted."
"I didn’t ask you to—"
"You wanted it."
I went still. "Wow."
"That is the absolute most ridiculous, unprofessional, and frankly—the craziest thing I have ever heard!" I shouted, my voice rising.
I shook my head to release the tension of everything knocking up against at once. "You can’t shove against an elevator wall and kiss like you’re—" I grabbed for words, my throat burning. "—like I’m yours; and then walk into your office like it was just business as usual."
"I never said you were mine."
"Then what was it?" I challenged.
He walked fast around the desk.
I took a step back.
"Don’t," I said, breathe catching. "Don’t you dare co closer if you don’t want to punch you in the groin."
He stopped dead in his tracks.
"What if soone saw you?" he paused and added slowly and evenly, "with that guy."
I stared blankly at him.
"What?"
"What if soone ── saw you with that guy?" he said, voice flat and tight just below the surface. "Saw your face; heard your na; took a picture. What do you think that would look like to the dia? To the board?"
I blinked at him. "You’re joking."
He didn’t flinch. "You’re my girlfriend, Miss Miller."
I let out a dry disbelieving laugh. "Contracted girlfriend." "We’re not in a real relationship, rember? You made that crystal clear. I’m the hired girl who is supposed to smile for your business transactions, and feign affection when it suits your schedule, or whatever your reason for signing the contract is."
Silence filled the room.
His expression didn’t change—but sothing shifted in his eyes. Sothing small. Dangerous or regretful.
I didn’t care.
"You’re not my boyfriend, Adrien," I said, voice lower now. "You’re just my boss. And if you ever try to pull another stunt like that again, I’m out of this contract and I’m resigning. I don’t care how much money you offer."
I took a shaky breath and turned for the door. "I’m going back to my desk."
I yanked the door open and stepped out into the hall. I didn’t slam it – instinct, or maybe the fear of drawing attention to us, stopped —but I didn’t gently close it either. It clicked loudly shut behind , signifying a hard period at the end of a very strange, very explosive sentence.
When I walked back to my desk, my heart pounding against my ribs as my breathing quickened. I could feel my hands shaking. I shoved them into the pockets of my skirt and clenched them into fists.
What the hell had just happened?
I had just threatened to quit my high paying job with the contractually obligated duty to one of the most powerful n in the city. The adrenaline from my outburst was starting to fade, leaving hollow anxiety in its wake. Had I gone too far? Had I just signed my own professional death sentence?
Adrien Walton. My boss. The guy who paid to pretend to be his girlfriend, who just accused of wanting that kiss, and then followed it with an accusation about how I behaved in public and a reminder that we were in a fake relationship.
My mind spun. He was not acting like the cold, calculating businessman I knew. But also, he was not acting like my boyfriend. He was... sothing else. Possessive? Angry? Scared? It was impossible to tell, just like always.
I reached my desk which felt like a million miles away. I sank into my chair, trying to slow my breathing. That is when I picked up a pen and concentrated on the simple act of it to help focus my attention. I had to look busy. Normal. Nothing happened. I had not just had a life threatening confrontation with the CEO in his office after he had manhandled in an elevator. just a normal work day..
I looked around the office space. Had anyone heard? Had anyone seen leave his office looking like I had survived a hurricane? Probably not. He had soundproofed his office, and I had managed to keep myself collectively together mostly.
The uncertainty sat as a physical ache in my chest. I picked up my mouse, clicked aimlessly on a random docunt trying to focus. My mind kept replaying his words, his expression, the unsettling intensity of his eyes when he’d said, "You’re my girlfriend, Miss Miller," and even more unsettlingly, "You wanted it."
The day ahead felt long, threatening, and dark as I continued to work.
I flinched at the sound of the elevator doors opening. I flinched at hearing anyone walk down the short hallway to Adrien’s office. At any mont, I could get the summons, the email, or the call that would tell how much it cost to put my foot down with my very, very angry resignation threat.
The air felt thick with unspoken tension. Or was that just , trapped in the aftermath of the storm, bracing for the next wave. Being incredibly self-aware and shutting the entire world out. I just sat there with my fingers resting on the keyboard, the silence itself louder than the turmoil of my own desk.
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