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17

Yelena

One week later

Aithan’s office is a towering beast of glass and steel, its sharp edges cutting into the morning sky as we pull up to the private entrance. The air inside the car is thick with tension, though neither of us acknowledges it. I convinced him to let me come here today—not that it was easy.

The argument started last night in bed, my body still humming with the remnants of our earlier passion while he lay next to me, his hand draped possessively over my stomach. It had taken everything in me to keep my voice steady when I asked him to take me to his office.

“There’s nothing there for you to do,” he’d said, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“I have a degree in finance, Aithan. I can go over your accounts.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“What I need,” I countered, rolling onto my side to face him, “is to get out of this house before I lose my mind.”

That had been the argument that won. Aithan had sighed, muttered something under his breath about me being a pain in his ass, and agreed. So, here I am, walking into his domain, past a sea of his men who barely hide their shock at seeing me here.

Only one has the guts to voice it.

“No one told me today was bring-your-wife-to-work day,” Leon says, smirking as he leans against the doorway to Aithan’s office.

“Shut up, Leon,” Aithan fires back.

I flash Leon a pitiful smile. “Is this how my darling husband bullies you?”

Leon nods solemnly, placing a hand over his heart. “Every day.”

“Well,” I say sweetly, “now that I’m here, I’ll protect you.”

Aithan mutters something about us both being impossible before waving me into his office.

The morning passes smoothly enough. I’m tucked into a seat at a mahogany table in the corner of Aithan’s office, pouring over ledgers and financial reports. Despite the elegant furnishings and the sweeping skyline view, this place feels more like a war room than a workspace.

Just as I begin cross-checking a set of transactions, I hear the sharp scrape of Aithan’s chair against the floor. When I glance up, his expression is a thunderstorm waiting to break.

“That’s it,” he growls, standing abruptly.

I frown. “What’s the matter?”

His golden eyes darken as they meet mine. “You. You’re the matter.”

I blink at him. “I’m just sitting here.”

“That’s the problem,” he mutters, stalking toward me.

I tilt my head. “I don’t understand.”

“You said you’d be quiet.”

“I have been quiet.”

He plants his hands on the table and leans down so that we’re at eye level. “You promised you wouldn’t distract me.”

“I’ve hardly moved,” I argue, trying to keep my voice even.

Aithan’s jaw clenches. He straightens and gestures downward—toward the very visible evidence of his frustration. I follow his gaze and—oh.

The bulge in his tailored pants is unmistakable.

Heat rushes up my neck. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he says dryly. “Oh.”

I press my lips together, suppressing a smirk. “So… would you want me to take care of that? I wouldn’t mind.”

He pins me with a smothering look, his eyes flashing with something dark and dangerous. “You’re playing with fire, agápi.”

I lift a brow. “Am I? Maybe I like to get burnt.”

Aithan moves so fast I barely have time to react before I’m pinned against the nearest wall, his broad frame pressing into mine. His hands bracket my waist, trapping me in place.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear.

I swallow hard. “What am I doing?”

He runs a finger along my jawline, tilting my chin up. “Making me insane.”

I let out a shaky breath, my heart hammering. “That’s not my fault.”

Aithan lets out a low chuckle, his eyes dark with intent. “Oh, it absolutely is.”

I barely have time to process his words before his mouth crashes into mine.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I register we are in his office and the door may not be locked, but I don’t care. Aithan’s kiss is possessive, devouring, and entirely consuming. His hands are everywhere—gripping my hips, tracing my spine, tangling in my hair.

I arch against him, and he groans, deep and low, against my mouth. “Yelena,” he rasps, his breath hot against my skin.

“Yes?” I breathe, already lost in the haze of him.

“I should stop.”

I let out a soft laugh, threading my fingers through his dark hair. “Then why aren’t you?”

He growls in response, lifting me onto his desk in one fluid motion. His hands slide beneath my skirt, fingers tracing the sensitive skin of my thighs. I shiver at his touch, my pulse hammering in anticipation.

“I have meetings,” he murmurs against my lips.

“Reschedule them.”

His laughter is a rough, husky sound, and it vibrates against my skin. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

I grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Then die happy.”

His hands tighten on my waist, and just as he’s about to claim my mouth again, a knock echoes through the office door and I freeze.

Aithan curses under his breath, resting his forehead against mine. “This is not over.”

“Of course not,” I reply breathlessly. “Looking forward to it.”

He steps back, smoothing his shirt as he moves toward the door. I slide off the desk, adjusting my skirt, my cheeks still warm.

Leon steps into the office, taking one look at us before raising a brow. “Should I come back?”

Aithan sighs. “What do you want?”

Leon grins. “Your wife is causing too much trouble. She’s going to ruin your reputation.”

Aithan glances at me, his lips twitching. “Somehow, I think I’ll survive.”

Leon chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As Aithan turns back to his desk, he casts me a look that makes my stomach tighten. This war between us, this battle of control—it’s nowhere near over.

And somehow, I know neither of us wants it to be.

Aithan

A sharp knock echoes through the office, yanking me back from the intoxicating pull of Yelena. My forehead drops to hers, and I groan, irritation lacing my voice.

The knock comes again, louder this time. Grinding my teeth, I push away from Yelena and straighten my shirt, silently cursing whoever stands on the other side of that door. I already know who it is before I even open it.

Leon.

His smug expression is already in place before I get the door fully open. He leans casually against the frame, arms crossed over his broad chest, his dark eyes flicking between me and Yelena before his mouth curves into a slow, knowing grin.

"Did I interrupt something?"

I stare at him, my patience hanging by a fraying thread. "What do you want?"

Leon takes his sweet time teasing Yelena before turning to me.

"Your father’s here. Wants an urgent meeting."

My irritation sharpens into something more potent. "Now?"

"Now." Leon tilts an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. "So, unless you want me to tell him you are too... occupied to attend—"

"Shut up, Leon." My voice is pure gravel, but it only makes his grin widen.

Yelena, completely unfazed, adjusts her blouse with a slow, deliberate grace before throwing Leon a saccharine smile. "Do you always ruin his fun, or is it just when you particularly want to annoy him?"

Leon chuckles. "Oh, he thinks about killing me at least once a day. You should see the looks he gives me."

"I’m considering shooting you right now," I growl, running a hand down my face, forcing my focus away from the heat still lingering between Yelena and me.

Leon only laughs harder. "Wipe the frustration off your face, cousin. You look like a man who just got cockblocked."

My jaw clenches. Hard. "I fucking hate you."

"No, you don’t. Now come on, let's go see what my dearest uncle wants."

I shoot a glance at Yelena. She smirks at me and waves her fingers in a mock goodbye. "Enjoy your meeting, husband."

God help me, this woman will drive me insane.

The tension in the hallway is thick as we walk toward my father’s office. My mind churns, still caught in the storm of Yelena’s presence, the way she looked at me, the way she felt under my hands. I need to finish what we started, and now my father is dragging me into some other crisis.

Leon, still enjoying himself far too much, whistles under his breath. "You’re quiet."

"I have nothing to say."

He side-eyes me. "That’s new."

I glare at him. "I swear to God—"

"Yeah, yeah, you’ll kill me. Get in line."