- D O M I N I C • P O V -
When I stepped into my office, the door slammed behind me so hard the frame rattled.
"What the actual fuck," I muttered under my breath.
The air felt too thin, too hot. My pulse was hammering like I'd been in a fight, not a goddamn meeting. I yanked at my tie, fingers digging into the silk like it was choking me.
I wasn't choking.
I was losing it.
My heart was beating too fast, my blood running too hot, and for the first time I felt something I didn't recognize.
Panic?
Desire?
Frustration?
No.
Something uglier.
Loss of control.
"Fuck," I breathed, ripping the tie loose and shoving it aside.
I stormed to the bar, grabbed the liquor bottle by the neck, and poured without even using a glass at first-just let the burn hit the back of my throat like a punishment.
It didn't help.
Not when the image of her hit me again... and again.
Raven.
Walking into my office like she owned oxygen.
Tiny little thing-petite, delicate, soft-but that body?
Every curve was a fucking weapon.
That skirt hugged her ass like it was stitched onto her skin.
Round, high, perfect. The kind of ass that made a man forget his name, his morals, his damn pulse.
And that blouse...
White. Thin. Innocent-looking.
Except she had no bra on.
At all.
Her nipples were hard, sharp, outlined through the fabric like she wore the shirt just to torment me.
And beneath it-yeah, I could see the edges of her areolas.
Faint. Pink. A shade that should never be visible in a workplace unless a man is about to lose his mind.
I should've looked away.
I didn't.
She was already there when I walked in.
Standing near my door. Too still. Too composed.
Because the second I saw her, something in my chest reacted-tightened, pulled, snapped, whatever the hell it was.
Something I don't feel.
Something I don't allow.
My jaw locked.
It wasn't attraction.
It wasn't weakness.
It was disruption.
And I hated her for that.
Her scent hit next-Vanilla.
Sweet. Warm. Dangerous.
Like she rubbed temptation into her skin on purpose before walking into my office.
Her green eyes locked on mine, bright and too damn pretty, framed by lashes she probably didn't even try with.
Then-those dimples.
Two deep little dents that appeared when she tried not to smile, when she tried not to cry, when she tried to pretend she wasn't terrified of me.
Dimples.
On the same girl who told me off yesterday during her interview like she wasn't one wrong word away from dying.
She shouldn't have done that.
She shouldn't have talked back.
She shouldn't have made my blood heat in ways it never should've.
And because she did?
Because she made me feel something I do not feel?
That's why I was cold.
That's why I was rude.
That's why I almost didn't hire her.
Not because she wasn't qualified.
But because the moment I saw her,
I knew I wanted her.
And I fucking despised that.
And hiring her?
That was my first mistake.
So when she walked in today, nipples hard, cheeks flushed, mouth soft, eyes nervous-
I almost told her to get the hell out.
Instead...
I stared.
And she felt it.
Good.
If she's going to wreck something inside me,
she's going to feel the damage too.
I clenched the edge of my desk, the glass flexing under the pressure of my grip.
"Get a fucking grip, Dominic," I whispered to myself.
But even as I said it...
I knew I wouldn't.
I knew it was too late.
I knew I was already slipping.
Because Raven wasn't just a distraction.
She was a problem.
And I was a man who solved problems
by
breaking
them.
I grabbed the bottle again, ready to drown the heat clawing up my throat, when my phone buzzed.
I ignored it.
It buzzed again, harder this time, vibrating across my desk like it was begging for attention.
"Not now," I growled, grabbing the bottle instead of the phone.
And then the screen lit up.
Dony.
I felt rage spike through me so fast it made my vision blur.
Of fucking course.
Of course he would call right now.
Right when my head was already cracked open and leaking thoughts I had no business thinking.
Right when my pulse still hadn't recovered from the sight of Raven in that blouse with those nipples practically threatening me.
The phone buzzed again.
I slammed the bottle down and snatched the phone.
"What."
It wasn't a greeting. It was a warning.
"Damn," my brother's voice came through the line, amused as always. "Someone's in a shitty mood."
I clenched my jaw so hard I felt something crack. "Dony. You've got five seconds before I hang up."
He let out a low whistle. "Wow. Must've been a real rough morning. Russians giving you hell? Or-"
He paused.
And I knew him well enough to know he was smirking.
"Or is it something... else?"
My grip tightened around the phone.
He had no idea.
He couldn't have known.
But the timing-
the fucking timing-
I turned and leaned both hands on my desk, head hanging forward as I took one sharp breath after another.
"Get to the point," I snarled.
He chuckled. "Relax, Dominicus."
The name sliced straight into my skull.
"Don't call me that." My voice dropped, low and lethal. "Ever."
"Fine, fine," he muttered. "No need to sound like you're about to slaughter someone."
"I'm always about to slaughter someone."
Especially right now.
Especially after Raven walked into my office looking like sin wrapped in innocence.
Especially after she made my heartbeat spike-
me-
like she had the right to affect me at all.
Dony sighed dramatically. "Anyway. I called because the Russian deal-"
"Handled." I cut him off immediately. "Stay out of it."
"See, that's the thing," he said, voice shifting. "When you say 'stay out,' I know for a fact you're knee-deep in some shit I should know about."
"I don't need help."
"You never do."
Silence crackled on the line, heavy and sharp.
Then-
"You sound pissed," Dony said. "More than usual. What happened? Someone piss you off? Someone die?"
Not yet.
My eyes flicked to the door-the one Raven had just slipped through hours ago, looking fragile and nervous and so goddamn unaware of the fire she was walking into.
She shouldn't affect me.
But she did.
And the very fact that she did sent a dark, violent ripple through me.
"I'm busy," I said finally, voice cold as ice. "Don't call unless something's on fire."
"Oh? And if it is?"
"Then let it fucking burn."
I hung up before he could respond.
The second the call disconnected, I threw the phone onto the desk, hard enough that it bounced.
My breathing was still uneven.
My chest was still tight.
My blood was still boiling.
And all of it-every fucking bit of it-was because of her.
Raven.
The girl who walked in here uninvited yesterday,
called me an entitled piece of shit,
looked me dead in the eyes like I wasn't the most dangerous man she'd ever meet...
...and then had the audacity to show up today looking like she walked out of my fucking fantasies.
I dragged a hand through my hair.
"I need to get her out of my head," I muttered.
She wasn't leaving my head.
She was in it.
Deep.
Sharp.
Stuck.
And I didn't know whether I wanted to push her out...
Or drag her deeper.
I hadn't eaten a single fucking thing all morning.
Not a bite.
Not even a crumb.
I'd been too buried in paperwork, meetings, calls-and too distracted by a pair of hard fucking nipples pressing through a white blouse.
So yeah.
I was taking my lunch early.
I glanced at my watch.
11:20 p.m.
Perfect.
Now that I had a personal assistant, one who actually knew how to answer a fucking phone, I didn't have to call the restaurant myself.
But the thought hit me like a punch.
It meant I'd have to hear her voice again.
I dragged a hand down my face and rolled my eyes at the ceiling. "Great," I muttered. "Fucking fantastic. Just what I needed."
I pressed my thumb to my bottom lip, staring around my office like maybe the walls had an answer for why the fuck I was losing control today.
Nothing.
Just silence.
And an ache tightening in my chest-and lower-that I refused to acknowledge.
"Fuck it."
I grabbed the work phone and dialed the extension to her desk.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then-
"Hello?"
Her voice.
Soft.
Warm.
Sweet.
Like honey dripping straight into my skull.
My entire body jerked.
My cock twitched.
Hard.
Instantly.
"What the-" I hissed under my breath, gripping the edge of my desk as heat shot straight to my groin.
I never-
fucking never-
got hard from a woman's voice.
I only ever got hard when I was inside them.
When I was using them.
When I had their throat or hair in my hand.
But this?
This was a fucking ambush.
I slammed my hand over my cock, gripping it through my slacks as a growl ripped out of me.
Control.
I needed control.
But then she spoke again, and control fucking died.
"D-Derveaux Corps, this is Raven speaking... how may I help you?"
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
My throat tightened. My pants tightened. My sanity snapped in half.
All over a damn phone call.
I rolled my eyes to cover the fact that I was falling apart.
"It's just me," I growled.
Instantly, I heard the shift in her voice-
The disappointment.
The tiny breath of "oh..."
Like she'd expected someone else.
It pissed me off more than it should've.
Of course it's me.
Who the fuck else would call her from my office?
"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Derveaux," she whispered.
God, the way she said my name...
My cock jerked again.
I gripped it harder, breath trembling.
"Listen carefully," I snapped, voice sharp and cold because it was the only thing keeping my control stitched together. "I want you to order my usual. I'll pick it up."
"O-okay, um-your usual-"
She stuttered.
Her voice cracked.
My head dropped forward as another curse tore from my chest.
I bit down on my bottom lip until I tasted blood.
She didn't know what to order. Of course she didn't. Today was her first fucking day.
"I'll send you a list," I growled, pacing behind my desk like a caged animal. "It has everything I eat. Every restaurant I tolerate. Look at it. Order it. And don't-fucking-screw it up."
The last words came out low, dangerous, rough...
Because I was two seconds from unzipping my pants like a fucking psycho.
"Y-yes, Mr. Derveaux," she breathed.
Her voice dipped.
Quiet.
Obedient.
Soft.
Jesus Christ.
My hand shot to my cock again, gripping it through my pants hard enough to hurt.
I slammed the phone down before I did something insane.
Silence crashed back into the office.
My chest rose and fell, sharp and uneven.
I looked down at myself.
Still hard.
Still throbbing.
Still pissed.
"What the fuck is wrong with me," I snarled, pushing my hair back.
She was already getting under my skin.
Already controlling parts of me no one had any right touching.
I wasn't supposed to want her.
I wasn't supposed to react to her.
I wasn't supposed to lose my mind because of her voice.
But my cock was still rock fucking hard, telling me otherwise.
And that alone was enough to set me off again.
I banged my fist onto the desk and growled,
"Fucking hell, Raven..."
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