Page 95 of Power

“Calling me to your office after-hours?” Marcus clicked his tongue, eyebrows raised. “That won’t look very good to HR, you know. Innocent people don’t invite supposed perpetrators into their offices when the building’s practically empty.”

Yep. That’s why there’s a recording device on my desk, you handsy harasser.

I folded my arms across my chest, widening my stance to project confidence I didn’t entirely feel.

“I called you down here because I want assurances.”

“Assurances,” he repeated, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he rubbed the side of his face. “What kind of assurances?”

“You gave me an ultimatum. I want to negotiate the terms.”

His expression hardened. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Panic fluttered in my chest like a trapped bird. I glanced at the closed door, realizing he might not feel secure enough to incriminate himself. My eyes darted to the window separating my office from the hallway, where anyone could walk by. I crossed the room and closed the blinds with a quick snap.

“There.” I turned back to him. “No one can see us now. So, drop the bullshit. I want to negotiate.”

Marcus checked his watch with exaggerated impatience. “If you could get to the point, I have dinner reservations.”

I wanted to recite every vile thing he’d said, to box him into a corner where all he’d have to do was utter one damning word. But this snake was too slippery. I needed to play it slower, more strategically.

“If I keep my mouth shut about what you did,” I started, voice deliberately vulnerable, fingers twisting together, “I want you to promise you’ll never hurt Jace like you threatened to.”

Marcus sighed, fingers already wrapping around the doorknob. “Miss West, I don’t have time for immature theatrics.”

“I care about him,” I blurted out.

The words froze Marcus mid-turn, his body tensing in a way that sent warning bells clanging through my mind. Something shifted in his posture. Something predatory.

“I like him. A lot,” I continued, sensing I’d struck something important. “And I don’t want him to get hurt. So, I need guarantees that you won’t do anything to harm him.”

He pivoted slowly, a victorious and creepy-ass smirk spreading across his face. “You care more about him than your promotion?”

The realization hit me with startling clarity. “Yes. I do.”

The smug look of triumph that transformed his features sent ice cascading down my spine. Why did it feel like in this chess game, I’d just sacrificed my queen?

“That’s good to know, Miss West,” he purred, the words dripping with menace.

“I want assurances that you’re not going to hurt him,” I repeated more forcefully.

“Why would I hurt one of my closest friends?” His face was the picture of innocence.

Damn it. I was getting nowhere. Not yet. But I could see his mind racing, that my confession about Jace had taken himoff guard, so maybe, just maybe, he’d slip up. Especially if I managed to rattle him even more.

“Because you’re a predator. And I don’t trust your word, so like I said, I need assurances, or I’m not going along with your plan.”

He turned and closed the distance between us in three measured steps. It took every ounce of willpower not to retreat, not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower.

“You seem to be under the impression you have leverage,” he sneered.

“And you seem to be under the impression you’re holding all the cards,” I countered. “But you’re not.”

“Your future promotional opportunities could go up in flames like that.” The sharp snap of his fingers made me flinch. “Your entire career could implode faster than that.” Another deliberate step forward. “I hold all the cards, Miss West, and you’d better damn well get used to it.”

I’d hit a nerve. Power was his currency, his addiction. Maybe that explained his grudge against Jace.

“It must be hard,” I said, the words poised like a dagger, “to play second fiddle to another man. Jace has more power in his pinkie finger than you’ll ever have in your entire lifetime.”