The first day at Ashbourne Global felt like being dropped into a luxury meat grinder. Everything was too polished, too perfect—and every person I passed seemed like they'd sell their soul for a corner office.
I had a desk just outside Finn Hart's.
It was glass. Sleek. Sharp around the edges. Like everything in this place, it looked expensive but dangerous—like if I leaned the wrong way, it would slice me open.
I adjusted my laptop, trying to pretend I belonged. Trying to ignore the dozen glances from women in pencil skirts and red-bottomed heels who looked at me like I'd been dropped here by accident.
Finn hadn't shown up yet.
But Knox had.
I felt him before I saw him. A magnetic pull, thick and heavy. I looked up just in time to see him stride across the floor, ignoring every employee who froze in his wake.
His eyes landed on me.
He didn't smile.
Didn't nod.
Didn't say a single damn thing.
Just looked.
Long enough that the air between us charged. Long enough that heat coiled in my spine like a warning.
Then he turned and disappeared into the boardroom.
Gone.
Again.
I exhaled and dropped into my seat. What the hell was wrong with me? One look from Knox and my thoughts scattered like matchsticks. I'd come here to build a future. To prove I was more than just a broken girl from nowhere. Not to fall apart over two billionaires who treated the world like a chessboard and women like pawns.
I wasn't a pawn.
I refused to be.
The elevator chimed again, and this time, Finn stepped out—smiling like the world belonged to him.
He walked right over and leaned on the edge of my desk. "How was your first hour?"
"Uneventful," I lied.
"Good. We like quiet around here." He glanced toward the boardroom. "Especially with Knox back. Things get… loud when he's involved."
"I got that impression."
Finn hesitated. "If he says anything to you—crosses a line—I need to know."
"He didn't," I said quickly. "He just… looked."
Finn's jaw ticked.
I tilted my head. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Why do you two hate each other?"
Finn's gaze cooled just a little. "Hate's a strong word."
"But not inaccurate."
He stood upright again. "Let's just say we want different things from the same world—and we've both bled for it."
The day passed in a blur of emails, onboarding sessions, and meetings I wasn't technically invited to but sat in on anyway. I watched Finn speak to clients with that calm, careful charm, watched him light up a room with ease.
He was the kind of man you trusted instinctively.
Until you realized trust was probably his most dangerous weapon.
At 6 p.m., the building began to thin out. Finn had one more meeting, and I used the downtime to explore the top floor. Mostly for air. Partly because I needed to stop thinking about—
"You're nosy."
I spun.
Knox stood in the doorway of one of the private lounges, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves still rolled, a drink in his hand.
"You're everywhere I go," I muttered, heart thudding.
He stepped closer. "No. You follow the heat."
My throat dried.
He offered me the glass. "Want a sip?"
"I'm working."
He smiled. "So am I."
I hesitated—then took it. The whiskey burned, smooth and hot. His eyes followed the way my throat moved as I swallowed, like he was memorizing it.
"You're wasting your time with Finn."
My hand tightened on the glass. "Excuse me?"
"He wants to save you," Knox said, voice low. "But you don't need saving. Do you?"
I didn't answer.
He took a step closer. "You like the edge too much. The danger. The heat."
"I don't know what the hell you think you know about me," I snapped.
"I know your heart races when I'm near you."
I stepped back. "You're arrogant."
He smirked. "I'm right."
"You're not."
"Say it again while your thighs are clenched."
I slapped the glass down on a nearby table. "This is sexual harassment."
"This is honesty." His voice was pure sin. "I haven't touched you. Not yet."
My breath caught.
He closed the distance between us with one slow step. "But I think about it. Constantly."
"You're disgusting."
"No," he said, gaze burning. "I'm the man who'll ruin you. And you'll love every fucking second of it."
I turned, ready to storm out—
—but his voice stopped me cold.
"Finn doesn't know how to break you open," he said, softer now. "But I do."
I looked back. He was still standing there. Still watching. Still smirking.
And the worst part?
I wanted to know what it felt like to be broken by him.
Back at my apartment, I couldn't focus. Not on Netflix. Not on my book. Not even on the leftover Thai food I usually devoured.
Knox's voice played in my head like a low, dark loop.
"You follow the heat."
"Say it again while your thighs are clenched."
"I'll ruin you."
I hated him.
And I hated how much my body betrayed me every time I thought of him.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:
You forgot your scarf in the lounge.
Me:
How did you get this number?
Unknown Number:
I get what I want.
A second later, a photo arrived. My scarf—black, cashmere, still draped over the arm of the leather chair.
Unknown Number:
Should I keep it?
It smells like trouble.
I bit my lip.
Me:
Keep it. Maybe it'll distract you from stalking me.
Unknown Number:
I don't stalk.
I hunt.
I put my phone down like it was on fire.
And yet…
My hand hovered over it for another ten minutes, waiting for him to text again.
The next morning, Finn was all smiles and sunshine again. He handed me a coffee before I could even sit down.
"Caramel latte. I guessed."
I smiled, surprised. "You guessed right."
"Of course I did."
He smiled and leaned against my desk again, like we were already friends. His energy was so different from Knox's—gentle, careful, soft.
But I couldn't stop comparing them.
Couldn't stop wondering what Finn would say if he knew his brother had texted me at midnight.
Or that I hadn't blocked him.
Or that I was already losing control.
At lunch, I stepped into the elevator—and froze.
Knox was inside.
Alone.
"Going down?" he asked, grinning.
"No," I lied.
He reached past me anyway, hit the button for the ground floor. The doors closed.
"You wore lipstick today," he murmured, eyes locked on my mouth. "Planning to kiss someone?"
"I don't need a reason to wear makeup."
"No," he said, voice lower now. "But you wear it when you want to be seen."
The elevator stopped between floors.
He hit the emergency hold.
"What the hell—?"
"I'm warning you, Kaia," he said, voice dead serious now. "Finn's not what he seems."
"And you are?"
"No. I'm worse. But at least I don't lie about it."
I stared at him, pulse racing. "Why are you doing this?"
He stepped closer. "Because the more time you spend with him, the more I want to fuck it out of your system."
My breath caught.
"Maybe I should," he added, eyes burning. "Once. Just to see if you survive me."
He reached for the panel and released the elevator.
The doors slid open on the lobby floor.
He stepped out without looking back.
I stood frozen, heart hammering, knees weak, lipstick smudged from biting my own lip too hard.
And all I could think was—
God help me. I wanted him to come back.