Page 7 of Lord of the Dark (Drawn into Darkness #1)

Fiona Robertson

I poured myself a coffee in the break room, even though I knew it would only hasten Rachel's "inquisition." She'd watched me yesterday with an expression that said it all—horror, shock, pure fascination—and that was before we'd even left the office.

Now she was already at the table.

Her cup in hand, eyes locked firmly on me.

She leaned back, watching me the way only Rachel could—knowing, penetrating, utterly relentless.

I sighed inwardly.

It was pointless to hide anything—Rachel would pry it all out of me, whether I wanted it or not.

I sat across from her and pulled my cup closer.

But before I could take a sip, she began.

"So?" Her voice was calm, but that single word was like a scalpel.

A faint smirk played on her lips.

"Yesterday.

Russo.

You two. I mean—Fiona. How the hell did that happen?"

I took a sip, hoping the hot coffee would steady my pulse.

No such luck.

"It's not what you think," I muttered, fully aware of how unconvincing that sounded.

"Oh really?" Rachel arched a brow.

"Fine, then explain it.

And spare me the excuses.

You know I can spot a lie from miles away." She propped her chin on her hand, eyes still fixed on me like she could read every microexpression.

I exhaled sharply.

"He just walked into my office," I finally admitted.

"No knock.

Opened the door like he owned the place."

"What?" Rachel let out a short laugh, eyes widening.

"Just like that? No warning? That’s so… audacious!"

"Tell me about it," I deadpanned.

"I was about to say something, but he was already there.

Standing in front of my desk like he owned the room.

I mean—" I shook my head, replaying the scene.

"You know my office. It’s not small. But with him there—he’s so massive, so sure of himself, that damn suit fitted like it was poured onto him—suddenly it felt claustrophobic."

Rachel lowered her cup, staring at me with disbelief and fascination.

"And you? How did you react?"

"Me?" I shrugged.

"I pointed out that knocking is customary." A smirk tugged at my lips.

"Politely, of course—you know how I am."

Rachel snorted.

"Oh, I’m sure you absolutely wrecked him with that."

"Not even close," I said, leaning back.

"He just smiled.

You know that infuriating, self-satisfied smirk that you either hate or—" I cut myself off before finishing that thought.

The break room door swung open, and three colleagues walked in.

Tom was first, grinning like always, followed closely by Lisa and Jane, their eyes alight with unmistakable curiosity.

Apparently, I was already the hottest office gossip.

"So, Fiona?" Tom raised his coffee cup in a mock toast.

"Still in the Russo fever?"

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile creeping onto my lips.

"Hilarious, Tom."

Lisa let out a throaty laugh and shot me a sharp sidelong glance.

"Who didn’t see them leaving the building together? Fiona and the big-shot lawyer.

The whole floor was buzzing."

"Big-shot lawyer?" Tom raised his eyebrows mockingly, stirring his coffee.

"Moves like his suit alone makes him superior to every one of us."

"It does, Tom," Jane cut in, settling beside Lisa.

"He's like a god.

A Roman god of seduction," she declared, clearly already under his spell.

"Just the way he walks—so self-assured.

It's fucking hot," Lisa added, her cheeks flushed.

"Hot?" Tom scoffed, crossing his arms.

"He's completely arrogant.

Bet he has mirrors in his shower just to admire himself."

"What’s so bad about shower mirrors?" I asked.

Rachel snorted, nearly spilling her coffee.

"Tom, come on, you’re just jealous because Russo dismantled you in that contract negotiation yesterday."

Tom huffed indignantly, though his ears turned suspiciously red.

"That was pure strategy!" he defended, slamming his cup down with exaggerated emphasis.

"No wonder he always wins—he stabs you in the chest and still has the nerve to smile while doing it."

Jane leaned back, her gaze drifting dreamily.

"Honestly, I wouldn’t even have noticed the knife," she mused.

"I’d have been too busy looking into his eyes.

They’re like—" She waved her hands, searching for words.

"—dark, dangerous whirlpools that swallow you whole before you even realize what’s happening."

The group burst into laughter as Tom threw his hands up.

"I give up.

You’ve all lost your minds.

The guy could read you a tax return, and you’d still find it erotic."

Rachel clapped him on the shoulder, grinning.

"Well, Tom, that’s just the league Russo plays in.

And you? You’re the one stuck writing the tax return.

And that’s probably his real talent—making us all kneel without lifting a finger."

Jane reclined, stirring her coffee with a sly smile.

"Honestly," she purred, "I wouldn’t mind kneeling for him."

The other women dissolved into giggles while Tom rolled his eyes in disapproval.

"Oh please, Jane.

Any more of this, and we’ll need a fan to cool the room down."

Rachel shook her head, laughing.

"You’re all impossible.

Fiona, how do you even handle it? I mean, you had him all to yourself yesterday."

"Exactly," Lisa chimed in, eyes glittering with curiosity.

"If his presence alone is that overwhelming—what was it like sitting across from him? Spill, we want every detail!"

I shook my head but couldn’t suppress a grin.

"I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t intense.

But I don’t impress that easily."

"Of course not," Jane murmured with a cheeky wink.

"But if he wanted to impress you, he probably could without even trying, right? Does even our ice princess feel the effect?"

Another round of laughter erupted.

"Rachel’s right, you’re all truly impossible," I snapped playfully, ignoring the heat in my cheeks—though Rachel caught it instantly.

"Oh, it’s working," she muttered, half to herself.

"Fiona looks like she’s run a marathon every time she talks about him.

How did that invitation even happen?"

I set my cup down, faced the expectant stares around me, and sighed.

"Naturally, in his style."

Rachel’s grin widened.

"That sounds promising.

Let’s hear it!"

"He stood in my office, calm and self-assured as always, and suddenly said, ‘How about coffee?’ Completely casual, like it was nothing.

Then he added, ‘Totally harmless.’"

Lisa choked on a laugh.

"Harmless? With that man? Never!"

"That’s what I thought," I continued.

"So I asked if he really needed to convince me it was just harmless coffee."

The women giggled, and Lisa leaned in eagerly.

"Oh, I bet he said something that threw you completely off balance."

"He just flashed that dangerous smile and said, ‘Harmless isn’t exactly my strength.’" I gave a faint smile, shaking my head.

"He didn’t even try to hide or downplay his real intentions." The skin at my nape prickled at the memory of his bluntness.

Jane gasped, propping her chin in her hands.

"My God, Fiona.

How did you keep from just—I’d have collapsed on the spot.

Or jumped him." Now everyone spat out their coffee.

"Oh God," Tom just rolled his eyes.

His tolerance had clearly reached its limit.

I steadied myself.

"Because I'm not the kind of woman who just caves to that." A lie.

"And yes, he has this...

presence.

When he speaks, you listen. It's not just the voice—it's the way he looks at every single person in the room like he's holding all the strings."

Lisa shook her head, grinning.

"Oh, I bet he's holding all the strings.

I'd stay at my desk voluntarily until he gave me permission to leave."

Lisa gasped audibly.

"Fiona, come on, did he at least ask you to serve him his coffee yesterday?"

I laughed and arched a brow, cradling my cup.

"Tell me, aren't you a little obsessed with the idea of being dominated by him?"

My words sparked raucous laughter, and Lisa playfully pretended to slap me.

"I'd never serve him coffee.

Not while he's got two functioning hands and legs." I paused, realizing how much more I liked the idea of ordering Russo around.

"I'd find it far more interesting to dominate him instead."

Rachel choked on her coffee, nearly spitting it across the table.

Lisa cackled and slammed her palm on the surface.

"Now that's what I like! You teaching him manners while he probably thinks the world kneels at his feet."

Jane nodded eagerly.

"He's got that arrogance you should hate, but somehow it's still intoxicating on him."

Rachel raised her cup, eyeing me over the rim.

"Come on, Fiona, we know you're not immune.

Is he really as...

hot as he seems?"

"Hot?" I hesitated, warmth creeping up my neck.

Of course he was hot.

Devastatingly so.

"Not hot—but he has this way of looking at you...

his eyes pierce right through. Like he could strip your soul bare and uncover every secret."

"Oh, that sounds dangerous," Lisa murmured with a crooked smile.

"Who wants a man to know their weaknesses? But then again..." She leaned back, biting her lip playfully.

"Maybe that's exactly the appeal."

"It is," I admitted, like a confession.

Jane whistled low.

"Honestly, Fiona, I'm almost jealous.

The man isn't just hot—he's the type to turn your life upside down."

"Or wreck it completely," Tom grumbled, taking a swig.

"Don't fool yourselves—guys like that are nothing but trouble.

Mark my words, Fiona, if he starts wrapping you around his finger, you'll be the one left cleaning up the mess."

"Oh, Tom," Rachel teased, nudging him.

"You're just bitter because he's got more charisma in one glance than you do in an entire presentation."

Tom scowled, crossing his arms.

"Charisma? Please.

He's just perfected that 'too-cool-for-you' stare.

Probably practices it in the mirror every morning."

"And it works!" Lisa chimed in, grinning.

"Bet he drinks his coffee black just to remind us all he's tougher."

I smirked, lifting my cup before leveling Tom with a look.

"You know what, Tom? You're right—he does drink it black."

Tom raised a skeptical brow.

"Oh yeah?"

I leaned back, lips curving.

"But not to impress anyone.

Russo doesn't need to.

You feel that the second you're near him." I replayed the meeting in my mind.

"Watching him... how little he cares about others' opinions or reactions—that fascinated me most, honestly."

Tom snorted, shaking his head.

"If you say he's not trying to impress, then that's probably his greatest power play."

I smiled faintly and took a sip of coffee.

"That's it exactly, Tom."

Rachel finally looked at me with a gentle smile, tilting her head slightly.

"Fiona, you know we're just teasing you, right? But..." She rested her hand lightly on my arm.

"If he's really getting under your skin...

be careful."

"I know," I murmured, feeling goosebumps rise along my arms.

"But maybe the risk is exactly what draws me in."

A brief silence followed before Lisa grinned broadly at the group.

"Alright, enough about Russo.

Let's get back to work before we all lose our composure here.

Fiona—we expect reports.

Detailed ones.

And I don't mean the business kind."

I gave a quiet laugh and nodded as the group gradually filed out of the break room, leaving just Rachel and me behind.

Rachel studied me thoughtfully for another moment before finally saying:

"You're truly at a crossroads, Fiona.

I hope you know what you're doing."

I drew a deep breath and met her gaze.

"I don't, Rachel.

But I feel like I absolutely need to discover what lies behind this."