The shrill ring of my phone broke through the soft hum of my fan, dragging out of the fog of restless dreams. My eyes were half-closed, lashes heavy, when I swiped across the screen.
"Good morning, baby," ca a low, warm voice, thick with sleep but playful enough to make my lips twitch into a smile.
Zion.
It had been years since I heard that exact tone from him, yet sohow, it felt like yesterday.
I pulled the covers tighter around , even though the room wasn’t cold. "Don’t call baby," I muttered, trying to sound stern but failing miserably when a laugh slipped out of .
"You used to love it," he teased, his chuckle rumbling against my ear as if he were right beside .
"That was high school," I said, rolling over on my side, staring at the ceiling. "We were children then."
"And now you’re a big, serious woman with deadlines and stress." His voice dipped mock-serious. "Still, you’ll always be a baby to ."
I pressed a hand against my cheek to hide the smile I knew he couldn’t see. My chest tightened,a familiar, dangerous warmth rising inside . I cleared my throat quickly. "I have work. I need to get ready."
"I’ll take you," he offered imdiately, like it was the most natural thing.
My brows rose. "You don’t even know where I work."
"Then it’s about ti I found out. Besides, you shouldn’t go in all serious without breakfast. Let be useful for once."
"Zion..."
"Don’t argue. I’ll be outside in twenty."
He hung up before I could protest further, leaving staring at my screen like a fool.
I exhaled, shaking my head, and pushed myself out of bed.
If he was really going to take to work, then I had to look good. Not just good, exceptional, professional, clean, unshakable.
I picked out a soft cream blouse that hugged my shape without being too much, tucked into a navy pencil skirt that clung dangerously close to my hips. My heels clicked against the floor as I moved, confidence already rising. A swipe of nude lipstick, a subtle shimr on my eyelids, and finally two spritzes of my favorite perfu, warm vanilla and sandalwood filling the air.
Perfect.
I grabbed my phone to check his last text, heart skipping when I saw the simple "On my way ❤️."
That was when the knock ca.
I grinned without thinking, already imagining Zion leaning against my doorfra with that crooked smile of his. I rushed over and pulled the door open.
But it wasn’t Zion.
It was Marcus.
He stood there in a black t-shirt that stretched over his chest, his jaw tight, eyes stormy and unreadable. My smile died instantly, replaced with the sting of unwelco tension in my veins.
"What do you want?" I asked flatly, clutching the doorfra.
He looked over slowly, too slowly, his gaze dragging down from my face to the skirt hugging my curves. His jaw ticked. "You’re dressed up."
"No kidding. People usually wear clothes to work."
His eyes narrowed at my tone. "I ca to talk."
"About what? Another lecture on how I behave like a slut? Because I don’t have the ti."
His lips parted, anger flashing in his eyes, but I didn’t stop. I was tired. Exhausted from crying over him, over his careless words.
"You know what your problem is, Marcus?" I said, my voice sharp enough to cut. "You want to own but you don’t want to claim . You want to bend around your moods, your pride, your rules but you can’t even be decent enough to admit you want ."
His nostrils flared, chest heaving. "Don’t put words in my mouth."
"No," I shot back. "You don’t need words. Your actions scream it loud enough. But guess what? I’m done letting you play like I’m so fragile little doll you can break whenever you feel like it, moreover nothing was defined I just set myself up for disappointnt and you delivered"
He stepped closer, fists curling. "You think that rich boy waiting outside is going to treat you better? You think he knows you like I do? He’ll get bored, Sharon. They always do."
I tilted my chin up, unflinching. "And you think I’d rather waste myself on a man who can’t decide if he wants or wants to ruin ?"
That one hit. I saw it in the flicker in his eyes, the way his throat bobbed as if the words lodged deep in his pride.
Before he could respond, a sharp horn blared outside.
Zion.
I didn’t give Marcus another glance. I stepped out, brushing past him as if he were nothing more than a shadow in my doorway. My heels clicked against the pavent until I reached Zion’s sleek black car.
He leaned out the window, bright smile lighting up his face. "Baby!"
I didn’t hesitate...I went straight to him, sliding into his arms as he stepped out. His embrace was warm, familiar, safe, and when he pressed a quick kiss to the side of my head, my chest clenched painfully in relief.
Behind , I could feel Marcus’s stare burning holes into my back. But I didn’t turn. I let Zion guide into the car, his hand resting lightly against the small of my back.
"Let’s get you fed," Zion said cheerfully, completely oblivious to the war raging only a few feet away.
And just like that, I left Marcus standing there, swallowed by his silence.
---
Zion insisted we stop for coffee and sandwiches despite my protests. "You’ll thank when you’re not fainting over spreadsheets," he said, sliding the bag into my lap with a grin.
"You act like I’m weak."
"You act like you don’t deserve to be taken care of," he countered softly, eyes on the road.
The words made my stomach flutter. I looked away quickly, chewing on my lip.
---
By the ti we pulled into the company’s lot, I felt lighter, almost floating from the banter, the laughter, the ridiculous way he teased about still biting my straw when I drank iced coffee.
But the mont I stepped into the office, everything froze.
The air was tense, sharp enough to slice through my good mood. Maxie’s wide eyes t mine across the room, her hand twitching as if she wanted to signal sothing. Joel, too, shifted uncomfortably, his face screaming warning.
My gaze slid past them to the center of the office.
Diana. Mr. Kade. And one more man in a perfectly tailored suit.
His back was to , broad and commanding, dark hair catching the light. I didn’t need to see his face to know.
Aec.
My chest tightened.
As if sensing , he scoffed, turning slowly. His sharp gaze landed on like a blade, running over my form, pausing at the coffee cup and sandwich bag in my hand.
"You’re late," he said coolly, lips curling into a smirk. "And apparently, you had ti to stop for snacks. Very professional. Diana, perhaps you should reconsider keeping workers who clearly don’t take this business seriously."
Diana flushed, shifting nervously.
I rolled my eyes, heat rising in my cheeks. "Sorry. It won’t happen again," I muttered, forcing my voice steady as I walked quickly to my desk.
Aec humd low in his throat, clearly satisfied with the sting of his words, and turned back to Diana.
She continued, her voice steady but tight. "As I was saying, we’ll have Joel coordinate closely with you on the project moving forward."
Aec didn’t even let her finish before he raised a hand. "No."
And everywhere went dead silent
His gaze slid back to , slow, deliberate, cruel in its calmness.
"I want Sharon."
The words dropped into the room like thunder. Maxie gasped softly while Joel stiffened, his jaw tightening. Diana blinked rapidly, clearly caught off guard.
? My stomach sank. My pulse roared in my ears.
Aec’s smirk deepened. "I want Sharon as my temporary assistant until this deal is finished."
The room spun, and the weight of everyone’s stares pressing into , pinning to my seat.
And all I could think was...why ?
Why again?
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