Chapter 4 4
WHAT THE HELL? Jane choked instantly. The vintage Cabernet went down the wrong pipe, exploding out of her mouth in a horrific, ungraceful spray that splashed straight across her face and ruined her plain white blouse.
Jane blinked, holding her breath as her internal monologue went completely off the rails. OUR CARDS?! WHAT CARDS?! SIR, I AM JUST A SECRETARY TRYING TO PAY OFF MY STUDENT LOANS, PLEASE LET ME GO BACK TO MY CUBICLE!
She froze in absolute mortification. Time seemed to stop completely. She braced herself for the inevitable impact, the harsh glare, the cold, razor-sharp insult about her utter lack of grace, or the immediate demand for a clean napkin.
Instead, William didn't even flinch.
Slowly, deliberately, he reached across the white linen tablecloth. He didn't grab a napkin. He captured her right hand, his large, warm fingers wrapping around her wrist.
Jane’s breath caught in her throat as William lifted her hand. Keeping his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, he brought her forefinger to his mouth and smoothly licked away a stray drop of dark red wine.
SHUT THE ACTUAL FUCK UP!
Jane’s brain went entirely silent, crashing like a broken server.
Before she could process the sheer, unhinged audacity of the gesture, William brought his hand up. His thumb brushed softly across her lower lip, catching another droplet of Cabernet with excruciating slowness, his gaze burning into her with a heavy, dangerous intensity.
WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH HIM?! OH MY GOD! SOMEBODY HELP ME!
The absolute madness of the moment finally broke through her paralysis. Jane ripped her hand back so fast she nearly knocked over her glass, yanking a cloth napkin off her lap and aggressively dabbing at her face and stained blouse.
"I—" She cleared her throat violently, her chest heaving, her cold demeanor completely shattered by sheer, unadulterated panic. "Excuse me, sir."
Was he mental?! Was he ill?! Had he suffered a massive stroke in the executive suite this morning and no one noticed?!
Across the table, William watched her furious wiping with supreme satisfaction, taking a slow, graceful bite of his Wagyu.
Look at her, William thought, his ego practically soaring into the upper atmosphere. She’s so overwhelmed by her own passion she can’t even hold her wine. The poor sweet thing is practically trembling under my touch. Cute.
"Take a breath, Jane," William purred softly, leaning back with a dangerous, triumphant smile. "There's no need to hide how much I affect you."
WHAT? Oh, you poor monster. Affect me? You need a freaking doctor! She thought.
Jane made an immediate mental note to call the company physician the second they got back to the office to schedule an emergency psychological evaluation. The man was clearly unraveling from mental stress.
Before she could form a polite,HR-compliant response, a vibrant, booming voice interrupted them from behind.
"William? Man, you actually have a date and you didn't even—"
A tall man in a crisp charcoal suit stopped mid-sentence. He looked Jane up and down, his eyes lingering on her severe bun, her plain, wine-stained button-down, and her complete lack of makeup.
He instantly realized she looked nothing like the glossy, supermodel-adjacent women William usually took out.
Then, his eyes lit up with recognition. A boyish, playful grin spread across his face.
"Wait... is this the legendary Jane Pascual? The only woman on the planet who doesn't bat her eyelashes at the almighty William Reynold?"
Instantly, the temperature at the table dropped by twenty degrees. William’s posture went rigidly stiff, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. His eyes narrowed into icy, lethal slits as he glared up at the intruder.
"Shut up, Luke," William growled, his voice laced with pure venom. "As you can see, I am in the middle of a private lunch with my secretary."
"Oh, come on, don't be such a grinch, Will," Luke laughed effortlessly.
Without waiting for an invitation, Luke, a high-profile Manhattan defense attorney and William’s close friend from their college days, pulled out the empty chair right next to Jane and slid into it. He turned his full, radiant charm directly onto her.
"I'm Luke Vance," he said, extending a hand with a dazzling, warm smile. "I've heard so much about you, Jane. Honestly, surviving two years as this tyrant's assistant deserves a congressional medal of honor. How do you keep from throwing his morning coffee right in his face?"
Jane blinked, caught off guard by the attorney's bright, easygoing energy. After two years of dealing with a human ice cube, Luke’s playful candor was a breath of fresh air. A genuine, quiet chuckle escaped her throat, and her lips curved into a soft, breathtaking smile.
"It takes an immense amount of self-control, Mr. Vance," Jane replied softly, her gray eyes sparkling with rare amusement. "And a very strong desire to pay off my student loans."
Across the table, William’s mind completely exploded.
WHAT THE?
He froze, his fork hovering inches from his plate. He stared at her in absolute, thunderous shock.
She was smiling.
In two full years, Jane had never smiled. Not once. She had looked at him with the emotional depth of a brick wall while he gave her bonuses, while he bought her expensive holiday gift baskets, while he tried to command her respect.
He had convinced himself she was just a naturally cold, unfeeling creature who hid her burning passion for him behind an impenetrable shell.
Yet here was Luke, mindless, arrogant, annoying Luke—sitting right next to her, and she was smiling at him like he was the center of the universe.
I am going to strangle him, William thought, his inner monologue turning violently unhinged as a dark, toxic fire roared in his chest.
I am going to destroy his firm. I am going to erase Luke from the state of New York. How dare he use his cheap, brainless charm on MY secretary?! She is in love with ME! Her red lace is sitting in my pocket right over my heart!
"Luke," William said, his voice dropping into a register so dangerously low that even the nearby waiter flinched. "Leave. Right now."
Jane raised a brow, offering Luke a small, amused smile as he poked fun at her boss's legendary icy demeanor. Before she could react, Luke casually reached over, slid her phone off the tablecloth, and typed in his contact details.
"Call me when your boss gets too much to handle," Luke said with a smooth wink. "I can definitely show you a good time." He tossed a playful, instigating smirk straight at William, whose expression had descended into pure, unadulterated hostility.
What shocked Jane wasn't Luke's brazen flirting, but the sudden, sharp snap in William's voice.
"Why are you smiling at him?" William demanded, his blue eyes glinting with dark fury. "He's an unmitigated playboy. I strongly suggest you delete his number immediately, ignore him, and never speak to him again. Is that clear, Miss Pascual?"
Wow, Jane thought, taking her phone back. The monster is back.
Ironically, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Cold, demanding, arrogant William was a creature she knew how to navigate.
The bizarre, velvet-voiced boss who licked wine off her finger earlier was a terrifying anomaly. This sudden reversion to his usual ruthless self was territory she could actually handle.
Twenty minutes later, Jane was buckled into the passenger seat of his sleek black sports car. The silence inside the leather interior was heavy and suffocating, broken only by the aggressive purr of the engine as William navigated through Manhattan traffic, his jaw set in a tight, brooding line.
As they pulled into the private underground parking garage of the Reynold Building, William killed the engine. He didn't immediately get out. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white, before turning his head to lock eyes with her.
"Clear your evening tonight," he commanded, his tone leaving zero room for negotiation. "You're coming with me."
What the actual hell? Jane's inner voice shrieked, her stomach plunging through the floorboards.
Where? Evening? That was entirely outside her billable contract hours!
Is this it? Jane panicked, her eyes darting toward the passenger door handle. Is this where he finally takes me to an isolated location, murders me, and throws my body into the Hudson River so he doesn't have to pay my severance? Is there any way to escape this car right now?!
