Chapter 7 MY BOSS.

~~~SOPHIA.

The next few days passed exactly the same way, which was precisely the problem. Alexander Grant acted as though nothing had happened, no strange conversations, no secret offers, no mention of the office, and no mention of that ridiculous arrangement. 

There was nothing, absolutely nothing, and for some reason, it annoyed the hell out of me. 

When I told Sarah everything, she’d laughed so hard I nearly hung up on her.

“You dodged a bullet.

“I know.”

“You escaped a walking red flag.”

“I know.”

“You should be celebrating.”

“I know!”

“So why do you sound angry?”

I had no answer for that because the truth was embarrassing. 

I wasn’t even angry about the offer anymore. I was angry because he’d moved on from it so easily, which was ridiculous, completely ridiculous.

By Thursday afternoon, I was still irritated. The office had emptied for lunch break, and most people had gone downstairs to grab food while I stayed behind, trying to finish a report before the end of the day. My headphones rested around my neck as I typed.

“Sophia?”

I looked up and immediately forgot what I was doing. Liam stood beside my cubicle, a smile tugged at his lips, and my heart did a small, traitorous flip. Liam was the new Head of Design who had joined Grant Holdings a few months ago and had somehow managed to become universally loved within a week. He was friendly, patient, funny, and that was basically everything Alexander wasn’t.

When Liam had newly joined, he had temporarily gotten my mind off Alexander entirely. 

He actually smiled when he spoke to people, and he didn't look like he wanted to fire you for breathing too loudly in his presence. 

“I got you your favorite drink,” Liam said, a warm, easy smile spreading across his face as he handed a chilled glass bottle toward me.

I palmed my mouth, my eyes widening in genuine surprise. “You know my favorite drink?”

“I’ve seen you take it a few times,” he admitted, his cheeks turning a faint, endearing shade of pink. “And I noticed you didn’t go out for break today either, so I thought of bringing it in for you.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” I laughed softly, taking the cold bottle from his hand.

As I looked at him, my mind automatically started doing what it always did lately and that was comparing the two men together. 

Liam was exactly the kind of man I had envisioned for myself while growing up. He was the blueprint. A gentle, sweet man who would surely put you first, who would ask about your day and actually listen to the answer, who would treat you with respect instead of demanding your submission. He was safe. He was normal.

But as I stood there, looking into Liam’s kind eyes, a dark, unsettling realization coiled in my stomach. Why was I suddenly preferring that twisted man instead? Why was my brain secretly craving the selfish, arrogant, commanding presence of Alexander, when the perfect, ideal man was standing right in front of me? 

It made no sense. It was sick. 

Whatever! Liam was the better man. Period.

“Oh, you’ve got ink here or something,” Liam pointed to his own face, interrupting my spiraling thoughts.

“Where?” I asked, immediately raising my free hand, trying to clumsily wipe my face off

“Hold on.”

Before I could object, Liam closed the space between us. He stepped into my cubicle, stepping entirely too close, and reached up. His thumb was warm and surprisingly rough as he gently wiped my jawline, his focus entirely locked on the small smudge near my chin.

I froze, holding my breath. He smelled good, like vanilla, a sweet, comforting scent that should have made me melt. But while I waited for him to finish, my eyes instinctively strayed, drifting past Liam’s shoulder, moving across the empty floor, and then landing on the man who stood halfway across the room

My heart stopped.

“Uh!” I gasped, a sharp, involuntary sound escaping my throat as I took a step back, breaking Liam’s touch.

“Are you okay?” Liam asked quickly, his brow furrowing with concern as he grabbed my arm gently to steady me.

I couldn't answer. I couldn't even breathe.

Standing by the glass partition near the executive elevators was Alexander Grant.

He was perfectly still, one hand shoved into his trouser pocket, the other holding a leather folder. But his face, God, his face. The cold, indifferent mask he’d been wearing all morning was completely shattered. His jaw was clenched so tightly the muscle was ticking, and his dark eyes were burned into us, tracking Liam’s hand on my arm. 

Why the hell was he standing there, looking at me like that? He didn't care about me, did he? He’d made that abundantly clear by ignoring me for days. So why was he looking like he was currently thinking of a hundred different ways to kill Liam?

A sudden, wicked rush of adrenaline flooded my veins. The annoyance that had been simmering under my skin all day suddenly curdled into something sharp and daring. 

He wanted to pretend I didn't exist? He wanted to pretend New Year's Eve never happened? Fine. 

Let's see how long he could keep it up.

Instead of pulling away from Liam, I twitched my lips upward into a bright, deliberate smile. I leaned in slightly, tilting my head as I answered Liam, “Yes. I just… I just felt some kind of way when you did that so suddenly,” I teased, my voice carrying just enough in the quiet office. 

I glanced past him, watching Alexander’s eyes narrow into dangerous slits.

Liam blinked, a sudden, boyish grin breaking across his face. “I am sorry, did I startle you?”

“I’m fine. You don’t need to feel bad,” I purred, and then, completely aware of the audience we had, I consciously placed my free hand over the back of his hand, embedding the gesture with an intimacy that didn't actually exist.

The reaction was instantaneous. Alexander moved.

He fully walked into the section, his footsteps loud and predatory against the floorboards. The air in the room instantly grew heavy, suffocating, and thick with tension as he approached.

“Liam,” Alexander barked.

Liam jumped slightly, instantly dropping his hand from my arm and turning around. “Sir.”

Alexander didn't look at Liam. His eyes were pinned entirely on me, dark, furious, and bordering on unhinged. 

“The physical archives for the 2018 mergers in the sub-basement. I need them sorted, cataloged, and on my desk within the hour.”

Liam looked completely thrown. “But, sir, I have the design layouts for the spring campaign due in two hours, and the archives are entirely unsorted. That’s a three-man job, it'll take…”

“Get on it, now,” Alexander snapped, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low octave that brooked absolutely no argument. 

It wasn't a corporate command, it was an eviction.

Liam’s jaw tightened. He clearly wanted to protest, but nobody argued with the man whose name was on the building. He nodded his head, glanced back at me with an apologetic look, and patted my shoulder. “I’ll see you later, Sophia.”

“Bye, Liam,” I said softly, keeping my smile firmly in place.

After he left, the silence that settled over the office was deafening. I didn't look down. 

I lingered my eyes on Alexander longer than necessary, deliberately making eye contact as I slowly twisted the cap off the drink Liam had given me. The click of the safety seal breaking felt incredibly loud. I lifted the bottle, took a slow, deliberate sip, and then set it down on my desk.

Without saying a word to him, I picked up my notebook, walked right past his towering, rigid frame, and headed toward the elevators, giggling softly to myself just to drive the knife in a little deeper.

I entered the elevator, turning around to face the front. The stainless-steel doors began to slide shut, cutting off the view of the quiet office. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, thinking I’d won. But just as the doors were about to meet, a hand slid violently between them.

The sensors beeped, and the heavy doors slowly retracted, opening back up.

My breath caught sharply in my throat. Alexander stood at the entrance.

God, he looked like he was about to kill someone. His tie was slightly loosened, his dark hair was a fraction out of place, and his chest was rising and falling in heavy, controlled breaths. The raw, unfiltered rage radiating off him was tangible.

He stepped inside and the space immediately shrunk to nothing. I moved away gently, stepping toward the back corner as the doors closed behind him, sealing us into the small space.

For a second, there was only the hum of the engine. Then, it happened so fast my brain couldn't even process the motion.

As soon as the doors locked completely, Alexander turned around. 

Within a twinkle of an eye, he bridged the distance between us. His hand shot out, thick fingers wrapping firmly around the front of my neck.

It wasn't tight enough to choke me, but it kept me in space as he pinned me ruthlessly against the mirrored wall of the elevator.

The impact earned a sharp, startled gasp from my lips. My grip failed, and the glass bottle fell from my hand, shattering against the floor, sending the sweet liquid and shards of glass spraying across our shoes.

“What are…” I choked out, my hands flying up to grip his iron wrist, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.

Alexander leaned in, his massive frame completely eclipsing me, trapping me beneath his weight. His face was inches from mine, his breath hot against my lips, and his eyes were completely black, devoid of any corporate restraint. The sheer, predatory darkness in his gaze made my knees go weak.

“Are you messing with me?” he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated straight through my chest. 

He squeezed his fingers just a fraction tighter against my pulse point, forcing my chin up, and forcing me to look at the monster behind the suit. 

“You think this is a game, Bunny? You think you can use some pathetic, smiling idiot to provoke me and walk away laughing?”

I tried to swallow, but his hand was an unyielding collar. “Alexander…”

God, my boss, Alexander Grant, had gone insane.