Page 2 of Therefore
Chapter Two
Emerson
I hated working in the office. As much as I understood the need for collaboration within a legal team, I’d always been more comfortable in my own space. Having people surrounding me was a distraction.
“No, I didn’t do anything fun over the weekend.”
“Yes, I am still single and perfectly content that way.”
“No, I don’t need you to find me a cute little omega to settle down with.”
“Yes, I would like you to leave my office so I can get some work done.”
My partners at the firm understood my way of working and granted me the flexibility to work where needed, knowing I’d achieve the expected results. But it meant I had to go in for larger meetings at least once a week, on top of my regular in-person meetings with clients.
Luckily, today’s client meeting had been unexpectedly cancelled, and I could take my remaining calls from my home office.
I nodded a greeting to Wilson, an older gentleman working as my building’s concierge, and stepped onto the elevator. Relief flooded my body. The gentle jingling music soothed my nerves and relaxed my shoulders. Pretty soon, I’d be able to focus in peace.
I slipped my penthouse keycard from my wallet and tapped it against the lock.
Beep.
Home at last.
Wait. Why was there a bag next to the door? Were those cleaning supplies? They looked brand new, still sealed.
Suddenly, my senses were on high alert. Abby usually worked later in the week, so who the hell was wandering around my penthouse?
I quietly placed my satchel on the ground, listening for any movements. Nothing else seemed out of place in the foyer, but as I moved down to my office, I could hear a faint rustling noise and a zipper.
Got you.
The door swung open as I burst into the room, hoping to take the intruder by surprise, only to find a young man with a backpack and blue jacket I recognised, casually admiring my reference books.
He turned to me, casually acknowledging my entrance, as though it were totally normal for him to be there.
“Afternoon, Mr Richter! Sorry for the surprise visit.” He flashed a charming smile that I saw all the time in courtrooms. It was a smile that said he was harmless. It was all an innocent misunderstanding.
So many of those turned out to be liars.
I eyed him up and down cautiously, taking in the detail of his Squeaky Cleaners jacket—brand new, from the look of it. It was crisp, with folds from the shrink-wrap packaging. Same for the hat.
“I usually don’t expect Abby until Thursday.”
“She had a family emergency to take care of. It’s expected to take the rest of the week,” he explained smoothly, but didn’t meet my eyes. “This was the only day I could do your weekly service, so here I am.”
“Here you are, indeed. But you left your products in the hallway.”
His charming smile faltered for the briefest moment. “I only just arrived. Usually with any new client, I like to take a look around first. Makes it easier to prioritise any problem areas, but I got distracted by the impressive collection of books.”
I cast my gaze over my office. Nothing seemed out of place until I saw that a box on the shelf had the lid on slightly crooked. Hmm.
The cleaner wasn’t exuding any pheromones to indicate fear, but he shuffled his weight between his feet awkwardly. Nervous?
“What did you say your name was?” I asked, flipping the keycard clipped to his jacket to see Abby’s smiling face instead of his. “Interesting that you’re wearing Abby’s keycard.”
He stepped away, casually straightening his jacket as he moved towards the door. “Well, I wouldn’t be able to get in without it.”
“That’s true,” I conceded, following him closely. “But I’m still waiting for your name.”
“Do you always walk this close to your cleaners, sir?” he asked, turning to look up at me. His arm brushed against my suit jacket as he turned, leaving a strange tingling heat in its path. “Or am I just special?”
Enough of this.
Taking two large steps, I backed him up against the wall and slammed my hand beside his head, effectively blocking his exit.
His bright green eyes finally met mine arrogantly, almost daring me to do more.
He didn’t smell like an omega—or anything, actually—but I could admit he was pretty.
Wide eyes and pouty lips practically begging to be tasted…
or stretched around a cock. I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, and he’d look so good on his knees.
“Your name. And while you’re at it, empty your bag,” I growled. This man was an intruder in my home, and I was through with asking.
Instead of answering, the cocky bastard leaned towards me, pressing the length of his body against mine when I didn’t move back.
Heat flared between us, but I forced myself to ignore it.
I wasn’t expecting a rut for some time, but that didn’t matter now.
Unfortunately, he quickly took advantage of the distraction and threw his fist straight into my gut.
As I doubled over, wheezing in a shaking breath, he dashed through the door.
Stretching out with one hand, I snatched the backpack and yanked it off his shoulders, but he refused to let it go.
Before he could pull away again, I grabbed him in a bear hug and dragged him against me in a tight grip.
He twisted in my hold, desperately thrashing his whole body in an attempt to get away and nearly smashing my face with the back of his head.
I snarled in his ear, “What did you take?”
“Fuck you!”
Holding him tighter, I lifted him off the ground so he couldn’t get any leverage over me. He was only slightly shorter than me, but he was wriggling hard enough that I was afraid to let up. I just needed to wait him out.
Eventually, his movements slowed, and I held fast, thinking he could be faking in a last-ditch attempt to run. As he fell limp in my arms, I checked his pulse with one hand. Did he pass out?
Fuck. I hadn’t lost control of my strength in a long time. What the hell was I supposed to do with him now?