Chapter One: The Devil in a Suit
Chapter One: The Devil in a Suit
The air inside the penthouse was thick with the scent of expensive whiskey and something more dangerous—him.
The air inside the penthouse was thick with the scent of expensive whiskey and something more dangerous—him. Elias Laurent. Billionaire. CEO. A man who had built his empire on ruthlessness, devouring competitors without a second thought. And now, he was staring at the one thing he wanted but could never truly have.
Me.
I stood frozen by the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the city sprawling out beneath us like a graveyard of forgotten souls. The view was breathtaking, but I wasn’t here to admire it. I was here because I had made a mistake—one that had led me straight into the lion’s den.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Micah.” Elias’s voice was smooth, dark—like honey laced with poison. He leaned against his desk, his tailored black suit clinging to his broad frame like a second skin. Every inch of him screamed control, power. A man used to getting exactly what he wanted.
I swallowed hard. “I told you—what happened that night was a mistake.”
A slow, predatory smile curled at the corner of his lips. He took a step forward. Then another. His presence was suffocating, a force that demanded submission.
“Was it?” His fingers brushed my jaw, tilting my face up just enough for our eyes to meet. The intensity in his gaze made my breath hitch. “Because I remember you begging me for more.”
Shame and something darker coiled in my stomach. Lust. Desire. A sickness I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I tried.
“This… whatever this is, it’s wrong,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.
Elias chuckled, the sound deep and knowing. “Wrong? Is that what you tell yourself when you touch yourself at night thinking about me?”
My pulse spiked. He was always like this—prying into my mind, digging out my secrets like they belonged to him. And maybe they did. Because no matter how much I tried to escape him, I kept coming back.
“You’re sick,” I hissed.
“And you love it,” he countered. “You crave it. The control. The way I break you apart and put you back together. You’re addicted to me, Micah.”
I hated how true it was.
Elias closed the distance between us, his fingers ghosting down my neck before curling around it—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who held the power in this room. His lips hovered near mine, teasing, taunting.
“Say you don’t want this,” he murmured. “Say you’ll never come back.”
I should have said it. Should have pushed him away. But when he pressed his lips to mine, rough and possessive, I shattered.
Because I was already his.
.
