CHAPTER TWO: His Office, His Rules
Aria stood frozen in place, her fingers clenched around her leather portfolio. Around her, the boardroom hummed with polite conversation and back-to-back introductions. But her pulse roared in her ears.
Julian Roth hadn't flinched when he saw her.
No widening of the eyes. No falter in his smile. No slip of recognition in his voice.
Only that last line.
"Some of you, I've already had the pleasure of… meeting."
It was subtle. Casual.
But meant only for her.
And she felt it like a blade to the spine.
As the meeting dissolved into handshakes and hollow laughter, Aria kept her composure. That was her armor—poise, posture, perfection. She wouldn't let the past three weeks crumble in front of these men in thousand-dollar suits. Especially not because of one reckless night.
She made it to the hallway, finally exhaling, until—
"Aria."
His voice. Right behind her.
She turned slowly, deliberately, every line in her body screaming control.
Julian stood there, hands casually in his pockets, tailored suit sharp against his lean frame. His tie was slightly loose at the collar, just like that night—like he never fully buttoned up the chaos underneath.
"We should talk," he said, voice low.
She stared at him. "About what?"
His smile was slow. Dangerous. "About how the past keeps showing up in expensive clothing."
"I didn't know who you were," she said quickly. "I didn't plan for any of this."
He tilted his head. "Did you enjoy it?"
"What?" she snapped.
"That night," he said, stepping closer. "Room 917. Did you enjoy it?"
She swallowed, throat suddenly dry. "That night has nothing to do with this office."
Julian looked amused. "Doesn't it? We both crossed a line, Aria. Only difference is, I knew exactly where it would end."
Her blood turned to ice. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I knew who you were the second I saw you that night."
Her heart stuttered. "You—what?"
"I knew your name. Your face. Your position at the firm. You didn't recognize me, which made it easier to… test a theory."
She took a step back, pulse spiking. "You planned that?"
"I didn't plan the chemistry. That was real. But I needed to know what kind of woman you were underneath all that perfect polish." His eyes dragged over her slowly, not lewd—just knowing. "Turns out, you're very… interesting."
Aria's hands balled into fists. "So what now? Blackmail?"
"No," he said, voice cool. "Just honesty. From now on, when I speak, you listen. When I say jump, you ask how high. And when I call you into my office—"
She stepped forward, her voice sharp as steel. "You don't own me."
"No," he murmured, gaze burning. "But I had you. And I don't forget the way you sounded when you begged me not to stop."
A strangled gasp escaped her lips.
He leaned in, his breath brushing her ear. "My office. Noon. Don't be late."
Then he walked away, leaving her furious, trembling—and so alive she wanted to scream.
Later That Day — 12:00 PM
She knocked once on his office door.
"Come in," came the deep reply.
Julian's office was sleek. Dominant. Floor-to-ceiling windows spilled light across dark marble and leather. He sat behind his desk, unbothered, like a king on a throne.
"You're punctual," he said, eyes glinting.
"I'm professional," she snapped, walking in. "Let's get this over with."
"Sit."
She hesitated—then did. Her knees crossed, back straight, every inch of her defiant.
"I've read your file," he said, flipping through a folder. "Brilliant track record. No scandals. No distractions. Until now."
"If you think I'll let a personal mistake jeopardize my position—"
"I don't think it was a mistake," he interrupted. "I think you wanted to lose control. And I just happened to be the one who gave it to you."
Aria's nails dug into her palm. "You're playing a dangerous game."
Julian leaned forward, eyes locked on hers. "No, Aria. I'm playing by my rules now. You just don't like the fact that you're not in control anymore."
Her breath hitched.
He smiled. "You should know… I'm not done with you. Not in the office. Not outside it."
She stood abruptly. "This conversation is over."
"Not even close," he murmured.
As she stormed out, her heels echoed like gunfire on the marble floor. But Julian's voice followed her like a shadow:
"You'll come back. They always do."