Page 41 of Intense (Beneath The Blaze #3)

STEPHANIE

Song- Chokehold, Sleep Token

I knock on the door, holding my breath like it might steady the storm inside me. For days, I’ve been locked in a mental tug-of-war over this decision. Now that the paper is clutched in my hand, I can’t tell if it feels right… or like another mistake I’ll regret.

“Come in, Mrs. Quinn,” Finn calls, his voice smooth and low. The way it slips through the door and slides down my spine makes me shiver.

I smooth my hair, take a breath, and push the door open, like I’m stepping into a lion’s den.

He’s smiling when our eyes meet, but the moment he spots what I’m holding, that smile curdles into a scowl.

“Mrs. Quinn. How lovely to see you. You’re early for work. Came to see your husband before shift?” His voice oozes sarcasm, his tone so cool it burns. “Seeing as you’ve been avoiding me like the plague for days. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

He spins in his chair to face me fully, the movement deliberate enough to make me shiver.

My cheeks heat as he rolls up his sleeves. And just like that, my body betrays me. No. Don’t get distracted, Stephanie. You didn’t come here to swoon. You came here to end this ridiculous farce before it trashes your career completely.

“I have something for you,” I say, injecting as much false confidence as I can into the words.

He extends a hand. I step closer, pressing the paper into his palm. My breath catches as he unfolds it, and then?—

A deep laugh bursts from his chest. A sound that should never feel that good in my ears.

“An annulment of our marriage due to intoxication,” he reads aloud, lips quirking like I just told him a joke.

I nod stiffly.

“Good try.” He winks, then tosses the paper into the trash beside his desk like it’s nothing.

That look he gives me now is unreadable. It makes my spine straighten. I plant my hands on my hips.

“Sign it, Finn. Please.”

He licks his lips slowly. Intentionally. I need him to sign this, because I’m too quickly becoming intoxicated by him, and I’m scared I’ll fall. And if he hurts me, I think that will be worse than anything.

“Please sounds so good coming from your lips, love.”

And then he’s up. Closing the space between us in seconds, backing me into the wall with the kind of energy that makes me forget why I ever thought this was a good idea.

Fuck, he’s dangerous when he’s like this.

“You want this marriage to be over so bad…” His voice dips as he leans in, the heat of him invading my skin. “…get on your knees and fucking beg me properly.”

A sharp gasp slips out of me, and his grin turns smug. He knows exactly which buttons to press. I swear to God, I’m just a game to him. A puzzle of triggers and reactions, and he’s memorized the sequence.

And maybe, just maybe, I’m starting to like the way he plays.

Especially when he presses that button. The one deep inside me that only responds to the curl of his fingers.

Do I really want to walk away from that? Without even getting the full Dr. Quinn experience?

I shake my head, trying to banish the heat building inside me. No. Think with your brain, not your pussy, Stephanie.

This is wrong. I shouldn’t be married to my boss. Sleeping with him was one thing; being his wife is something else entirely.

He’s not built for relationships. And neither am I.

“You don’t want me as your wife, Finn,” I say coolly, shifting tactics.

He pulls back just enough to let me breathe. But those sharp eyes stay locked on mine.

“Why not? Give me three constructive arguments, and I’ll consider it.”

“I’m high maintenance. You won’t be able to keep up.”

He scoffs, already loading his counterattack.

“I’m rich, remember? You’ve called me fuckin’ rich boy for years. Next?”

Shit. Okay.

“We work together.”

“I could fire you. But HR already approved our marriage. Next?”

“Jesus Christ, you’re impossible. Fine. Last one. I don’t fucking like you, Dr. Quinn.”

That smug smile spreads across his face again.

“That’s a damn lie.”

He grips my jaw, forcing me to hold his gaze.

“I tried to slash your tires. I just handed you the papers. I even begged for you to leave me. How does that scream that I like you?”

He’s still smiling. Like I’m the most beautiful contradiction he’s ever seen. And maybe I am.

“You just also came all over my hand and had me bend you over what you thought was my car. Your point is what exactly?”

I chew the inside of my lip, searching for a comeback, but?—

“Do you believe hate and love can’t walk the same line, temptress?”

My mouth opens… and closes again.

Fuck. I hate when he has a point.

“You can hate parts of me and love other parts. It’s passion, love. And that’s what makes you the perfect wife for me.”

He drags his thumb across my bottom lip, and I swear, my knees weaken.

“If you really hated me like you claim, you’d have quit your job years ago. You’d have never woken up with a ring on your finger. And you sure as hell wouldn’t be standing this close to me right now.”

He leans in again, close enough for his words to settle on my skin like heat.

“And you certainly wouldn’t be imagining me spanking and cutting you until you pass out as punishment for your little stunt today. But you are, aren’t you? You’re soaking fucking wet for me.”

When he steps back, it’s like the oxygen rushes out of my lungs.

He adjusts his tie, the picture of control again, though I know better.

“All three of your points have been deemed invalid. Therefore, your divorce request has been denied. Again.”

I blink at him, stunned, as he settles back into his chair like he hasn’t just set my entire world on fire.

“Now, are you staying here to let me show you what it really means to be mine? Or are you running back to your office to finger yourself while you think of me? Choice is yours… wife.”

That word. Wife. The way he says it with such possessiveness sends a shock through my chest.

“Who said anything about my fingers? Maybe I’ll go back to the club and find another dick to use as my personal fuck toy.”

I bite down a grin when his temple twitches, his jaw clenches, and that mask of composure starts to slip.

He sucks in a sharp breath. I know that look. He’s about to break.

“Come here, Stephanie,” he growls, each syllable bitten off like he’s trying not to explode.

“I’m not your property. You don’t get to order me around. Sign the damn papers,” I snap back.

He nods once, licking his lips like he’s tasting blood.

“Ever since those rings went on our fingers, I’ve remained faithful to you. Because our marriage is real to me. I don’t let anyone near me like this.”

His words land like fists. I wasn’t ready for that. For the brutal sincerity of it.

My heart hammers. I clench my fists, trying to anchor myself. He’s catching me off guard at every turn, and it’s messing with my head.

“But if that’s how you want to play this, then checkmate to you, Dr. Miller . There are plenty of willing women I know who’d be more than happy to be in your shoes once I clock off. Have a good day.”

Bile rises in my throat. The image of him with someone else feels like a punch to the gut.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I glance at the papers in the trash.

And weirdly… they look like they belong there.

A soft knock startles me, and I step back.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Poppy,” he says flatly, not even glancing my way.

I nod numbly and move toward the door.

“Sign the papers, Dr. Quinn, and all of this will go away.”

He turns then, and for the first time… I see it.

Not anger.

But disappointment. Maybe even heartbreak.

“Am I really that bad?” he asks quietly.

No one gets me like he does. No one challenges me, pushes me, infuriates me, or turns me on like he does.

We’ve always been fire. And maybe that’s why I can’t admit the truth.

Because if I do, it means I’ve already lost.

So I say nothing. I just walk out and slam the door in his face.

“Good luck,” I mutter to Poppy as I pass her. Then I storm into my office and slam that door too.

Not even five minutes later, there’s a soft knock.

“Come in,” I say, my voice flat.

Poppy slips inside, looking like she’s seen a ghost.

“What did you say to Dr. Quinn?”

I frown, spinning the wedding ring in my pocket like it might give me the answer.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Why?”

She shifts on her feet, glancing back toward the hallway.

“Uh… well, it doesn’t seem like nothing. There’s a hole in the wall that needs fixing now.”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

“Sure it wasn’t there before?”

This isn’t like Finn. Not here. Not at work.

“Nope. Wasn’t there this morning. Showed up right after you slammed the door in his face.”

I recline in my chair, the war still raging in my chest.

Part of me wants to storm back in there and demand the truth.

The other part? The part still aching from that look on his face?

Wants to run.

“He didn’t seem angry,” Poppy says quietly. “He seemed… hurt. If I had to guess. But who knows with him.”

I nod slowly. Because yeah… that’s the same energy I felt too.

He punched a wall because I asked for a divorce?

What the fuck are we doing?