Page 112 of Carnal Games

I don’t understand why I’m feeling so restless. Perhaps, she’s stuck downstairs printing out copies. I gave her a thick file. However, I’m keenly aware how deserted that floor can be after working hours.

I should wait here instead of acting on the urge to chase after her. I’m worrying for no reason. It’s becoming increasingly difficult not to look for excuses to hear her voice or have her fluttering all around me. Her eagerness to please me is unmistakable.

Every time she calls mesirin her husky voice, it takes every ounce of control not to order her to fall to her knees and say it again. She’ll probably run away if I show her a glimpse of my deviant tastes, where I demand complete submission from the woman I fuck. It’ll be the tip of the iceberg.

I’ll corrupt her innocent little heart and mold it into being my perfect fuck doll.

She’ll struggle and cry while taking me, and it’ll only make me harder.

I don’t even think she can fit all of me in her—

“Fuck!” I breathe through my nose to block out the dangerous fantasy. None of it will ever come true. I’m only torturing myself. As I push through the dark haze of lust, I’m second-guessing my decision to fly abroad with her, even if it’s a work trip.

I’ll book her a room far, far away from mine.

I glance at her desk again, noticing how she’s decorated it with her belongings. Two picture frames. One is a picture with her best friends outside Caesars Palace in Vegas, while the other is with her family on a mountain. Her space feels livelier and more inviting than my office.

Checking the time on my wristwatch, I’m confused why she isn’t back yet. I have no clue when she went downstairs either.

What’s taking you so long?

Scrubbing a hand along my jaw, I give up the fight and stalk toward the elevators that’ll take me to her. Next time, I’ll have Arjun do the task.

It’s eerily quiet when I make it downstairs, not even the whirring noise of a machine echoes in the bright hallways.

Is she even here?

Honestly, either possibility doesn’t soothe away my nerves. For hell’s sake, her choice of weapon is those heels. Yes, they’re goddamn gorgeous around her slim ankles and purple-painted toenails. The cute bows that I wanted to untie with my teeth.

No matter what she thinks, they’re not built for protecting her.

The closer I get to the very last room, still no noise alerts me if she’s busy in there. Not even the soft humming of her singing a tune like she does without even realizing.

A foreboding feeling rises in my gut.

As I bridge the distance and walk inside, my world grinds to a halt.

Curled up in a fetal position with her long hair hiding her face, lies an unconscious Iris.

An unrecognizable sound rumbles from deep inside my chest as I dash toward her and fall to my knees.

“Iris!” Pushing her hair back, I cradle her head on my lap and press two fingers against her neck to check her pulse.

It’s strong, lessening my panic marginally.

Rage clouds my vision when I see her nose bleeding and the darkening bruise rapidly forming around her right eye like someone punched her in the face.

Whoever it was who dared to inflict pain on her has just signed their death warrant.

Her clothes are still intact as if the attacker’s intention was to roughen her up. Besides her position, nothing indicates she saw the person coming at her.

My insides feel split in two, like someone sliced them apart just at the sight of the black eye marring her beautiful face. It’s hard for my mind not to imagine the worst scenarios of what else could’ve happened to her under my watch.

While someone beat her up, I was upstairs on a stupid call.

I never should’ve sent her here.

Nor should I have hired her in the first place, not when there’s a secret investigation going on and a potential racketeering being run from inside my company. Things had been quiet for months, but I should’ve known better.