Chapter 5 5
"Mr. Reynold, my official working hours end at six," Jane said, keeping her voice as smooth and even as humanly possible, despite the cold sweat breaking out on her back. "If there is additional paperwork or an urgent file—"
"It isn't paperwork, Jane," William interrupted smoothly, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning closer to her. The dark, possessive intensity in his eyes returned full force. "It’s a personal matter. I’m picking you up at eight. Text me your address."
Jane's jaw tightened. A personal matter?! Does he need a witness for an illegal transaction? Or is he taking me to his penthouse to stage an tragic 'accidental fall' off his balcony?!
"I don't comfortably share my home address with executive staff, sir," she attempted to hedge, clutching her purse to her chest like a shield.
William’s lips curved into another insufferably smug smile.
Look at her, he thought, his ego practically purring. She’s trying so hard to play hard to get because Luke made her self-conscious. She’s terrified that if I come to her apartment, she won't be able to resist throwing herself into my arms after hiding her passion for two years.
"You don't have to be shy, Jane. I already know far more about your... passions than you think," William murmured, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly smooth velvet tone. "Eight o'clock. Don't make me hunt you down."
So, yeah, by 7:45 PM, Jane was pacing frantically across her tiny living room, wearing her plainest dark jeans and an oversized turtleneck sweater, her ultimate anti-murder armor.
Her phone buzzed. It was Allan.
Allan: Did you survive the performance review?! Did he fire you?!
Jane: ALLAN. HE IS COMING TO MY APARTMENT. IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. HE TOLD ME TO FREE MY EVENING. HE LICKED WINE OFF MY FINGER AT LUNCH. HE IS A PSYCHOPATH.
Allan: WAIT. HE LICKED YOUR FINGER?! JANE. HE DOESN'T WANT TO MURDER YOU. HE WANTS TO SLEEP WITH YOU.
Jane: ARE YOU INSANE?! HE HATES ME! HE TOLD ME HE KNOWS ABOUT MY PASSIONS! HE DISCOVERED I’VE BEEN STEALING THE EMBOSSED STATIONERY NOTEPADS! HE’S COMING TO COLLECT HIS DEBT!
Allan: ...I am praying for your sanity.
A sharp, authoritative knock echoed at her front door.
Jane froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She crept over, peeled open the door, and caught her breath.
William was standing in her dim hallway, looking offensively handsome in an unbuttoned black dress shirt and tailored trousers. In his left hand, he held a massive bouquet of rare, blood-red roses. In his right hand, he held a sleek black velvet box.
Jane stared at the roses, her brain utterly short-circuiting.
Oh god, she thought in absolute horror. They're funeral flowers. He brought funeral roses to mark my demise.
"May I come in?" William asked softly, stepping past her before she could even answer. He scanned her modest, cozy apartment, his eyes landing on her oversized sweater. A dark, satisfied smirk touched his lips. Trying to cover up again, my sweet hypocrite? It won't work.
"Mr. Reynold, whatever this is—" Jane started, backing away as he turned to face her.
"Call me William, Jane. We are far past 'Mr. Reynold,'" he instructed, stepping closer until she was backed up against her small kitchen counter. He set the blood-red roses down and held up the black velvet box. "I brought you something to replace what you gave me."
Jane’s eyes widened in sheer panic. HE FOUND OUT ABOUT THE STATIONERY! OR THE DRY-CLEANED SHIRT! HE'S HANDING ME A BILL FOR DAMAGES!
"Sir, I promise I can pay you back in installments!" Jane pleaded, holding her hands up defensively. "You don't need to hand-deliver legal documents or court summons to my apartment!"
William blinked, momentarily baffled. Legal documents? Pay me back?
Then, his ego seamlessly reinterpreted her words. Ah. She’s so overwhelmed by the sheer romantic gesture of me buying her jewelry that she thinks she isn't worthy of it. She thinks she has to 'pay' for my affection.
"You don't need to pay me back, Jane," William purred softly, popping open the velvet box to reveal a dazzling, multi-carat diamond necklace that sparkled under her cheap apartment lights. "Consider this an initial investment in our... new arrangement."
Jane stared at the sparkling diamonds, her jaw dropping open.
HOLY SHIT. HE'S BRIANING ME TO KEEP QUIET ABOUT HIS MENTAL BREAKDOWN! HE'S LOSING HIS MIND AND TRYING TO BUY MY SILENCE WITH BLOOD DIAMONDS!
"New arrangement?" Jane stammered, her voice squeaking slightly as she set the terrifyingly expensive diamond necklace down on her small coffee table like it was a live explosive.
Her hands were visibly trembling. Was he having a brain aneurysm? Did he take a blow to the head during his weekend golf match?
"Would you believe me if I told you I booked a private movie theater for just the two of us tonight?" William asked, his voice smooth, casual, and entirely nonchalant.
Jane stared at him, so utterly paralyzed by shock that she swore even the little house lizard on her ceiling stopped moving. A private movie theater? With him?
She swallowed hard and cleared her throat, deciding right then and there to play along with whatever delusion he was currently suffering from. She knew a corporate executive mental meltdown when she saw one.
Right now, her billionaire boss was in the middle of a full-blown psychological collapse, and she was not about to get sued by the Reynold family for failing to handle their precious CEO with care.
"That... sounds lovely, sir," Jane said carefully, managing to keep her voice placid and agreeable.
William’s smirk deepened with absolute triumph. Look at her, he thought, his ego practically purring in delight. She’s trembling with pure excitement. She’s trying so hard to act calm, but she’s practically breathless just thinking about being alone with me in the dark.
"I'll wait in the car, Jane. Don't keep me waiting," he purred, turning on his heel and heading out the door.
The second the door clicked shut, Jane frantically grabbed her small handbag, pulled out her phone, and typed a message to Allan with flying thumbs.
Jane: ALLAN. HE BOOKED AN ENTIRE PRIVATE MOVIE THEATER FOR US. HE IS TOTALLY UNHINGED. IF YOU FIND MY BODY FLOATING IN THE HUDSON RIVER, TELL THE POLICE IT WAS WILLIAM REYNOLD HAVING A MENTALLY UNSTABLE EPISODE.
She tucked her phone into her purse, took a deep, steadying breath, and walked out to meet her fate.
