Sophia
I crouched by Vince's desk, rifling through the drawers in a desperate search for the elusive red file. My fingers brushed over sleek paper, thick folders, but not the one I needed. Papers scattered around me, once-neat stacks unravelling into chaos as frustration clawed at my nerves. Where the hell was it? My pulse quickened. Vince and the investors were waiting, and this was no time for mistakes—not with Vince's entire empire riding on this deal.
The door clicked open behind me, and even before the familiar scent of his cologne curled through the room, I knew it was Vince. His presence didn't just enter a room, it dominated it, like a thunderstorm rolling in on a cloudless day—unexpected, inescapable. The air thickened, charged with something darker than mere frustration. My stomach clenched, a warning, but I kept my back to him, rifling faster, hoping to avoid the weight of his gaze.
"Sophia." His voice sliced through the tense quiet—low, commanding, and unrelenting.
My hands froze mid-motion, trembling slightly. His voice always had that effect on me, unravelling the careful control I clung to. "I'm almost done," I replied, my voice not as steady as I'd hoped. I continued searching, my fingers rifling through more papers with growing desperation. "The red file—it's here somewhere. I just need a minute."
Silence. Heavy, unnerving silence. My pulse pounded in my ears as I waited for his response. The silence felt like a noose tightening around my throat, threatening to suffocate me before he even spoke.
Then I heard it—the soft, deliberate click of his polished shoes moving across the hardwood floor. Closer. Each step deliberate, measured, like a predator approaching prey. I couldn't bring myself to look, even as my heartbeat turned erratic, my chest tight with an emotion I didn't dare name.
Suddenly, his hand wrapped around my wrist, firm yet restrained, as though reminding me how easily he could hold me still, or worse. Heat flared beneath his touch, snaking through my veins, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping aloud.
"Leave it," he murmured, his voice quieter now but no less commanding. The words weren't a suggestion—they were an order.
I blinked, my mind struggling to keep up with the shift in his tone. "But the meeting—" My protest was weak, fading as I felt the undeniable pull of his presence, the intoxicating allure of his control.
His fingers tightened ever so slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to send a message. He guided me up from my crouch with a gentleness that contradicted the raw power beneath his touch. I was on my feet before I could gather my thoughts, standing so close I could feel the heat radiating from him.
"Forget the meeting," Vince said, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of steel. His eyes, dark and smouldering, locked onto mine, pinning me in place. There was no room for argument in that gaze—just a storm of intensity that made my breath catch in my throat.
"But the investors—" I managed, my voice a bare whisper.
A flicker of amusement crossed his sharp features, as though my concern for something as trivial as investors was almost...cute. "Luca will handle it," he said, dismissing the issue with a wave of his hand, his grip never loosening on mine. His fingers slipped from my wrist to my hand, enveloping it in a firm, possessive hold. "You're coming with me."
"Where?" I asked, my voice wavering with confusion, the word barely audible as my mind scrambled to comprehend what was happening. He had been so focused on the investors, the deal, the stakes. What had changed?
"We're going for a stroll," he said simply, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
A stroll? My mind whirled. None of this made sense. "But Vince, the—"
"Don't." His voice sharpened just slightly, silencing me. He stepped closer, so close I could feel his breath on my skin, his gaze burning into mine. "I said, don't worry about them."
I swallowed hard, my body betraying me as a shiver ran down my spine, the kind that wasn't entirely from fear. His presence was suffocating, overwhelming, and yet there was a part of me that craved it—craved him, even when I knew I shouldn't.
Before I could protest further, he was already pulling out his phone, his free hand dialing a number as easily as breathing. The door swung open with a quiet creak, and Vince's grip on my hand tightened, urging me forward. "Luca, handle everything with the investors immediately," he said into the phone, his tone curt. Then he paused, as though expecting compliance without question.
Of course, Luca wouldn't argue. No one ever did.
My heart raced as Vince tugged me toward the door, my feet stumbling slightly as I struggled to match his brisk pace. The hallway stretched ahead, dimly lit, but every step I took with him felt like I was being pulled deeper into something dark, something inescapable. My mind raced with the consequences of walking away from that desk, leaving the file, the meeting, the safety of routine. But the warmth of his hand in mine, the quiet, undeniable promise in his eyes, made it hard to think of anything else.
"Vince..." I began, though I didn't know what I wanted to say. That I couldn't just leave? That I didn't understand?
He didn't slow, didn't turn, but his grip tightened, possessive and sure. "You'll thank me later, Sophia," he said quietly, but there was something dangerous in the softness of his voice—a promise, or perhaps a warning.
Scene: The Garden
The cool evening air wrapped around me like a shroud, but I hardly noticed. The mansion loomed behind us, its stone walls bathed in the fading light of the setting sun. Vince's hand was firm yet steady on my lower back, guiding me with a quiet authority that made my pulse quicken.
We weren't heading inside. Instead, Vince steered me toward the expansive garden sprawling beyond the southern edge of the mansion. Tall, wrought-iron gates marked the entrance, leading into a world of meticulously groomed hedges, statues, and pathways that seemed to stretch on forever. I'd seen glimpses of this garden before but never set foot in it. It was reserved—like much of Vince's world—for only those he deemed worthy.
The moment we crossed the threshold, the atmosphere shifted. The air was still, heavy with the scent of roses and damp earth, the light dimming to a deep gold as dusk fell over the grounds. I couldn't help but glance up at the towering mansion behind us, its grandeur a stark contrast to the strange intimacy of this quiet space.
"Why are we here?" I asked, my voice quiet, almost swallowed by the garden's stillness.
Vince didn't answer right away. His hand remained on my back, his touch almost possessive as we walked deeper into the maze of greenery. His silence felt like a veil, thick and unreadable. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, even though he hadn't spoken. Every step we took was deliberate, like he was guiding me into something, somewhere that words couldn't explain.
"I thought you might need a breath of fresh air," he finally said, his voice low but resonating with an intensity that made my heart stutter.
Fresh air? A laugh bubbled up inside me, bitter and sharp, though I swallowed it before it could escape. Vince never did anything without purpose, without some deeper meaning lurking beneath the surface. This wasn't about fresh air, and we both knew it.
We reached a clearing, a secluded part of the garden that was almost completely hidden from view by towering hedges and ivy-covered walls. In the center stood a marble fountain, its water trickling softly into the basin below. The golden light of the sunset reflected off the ripples, casting a warm glow across Vince's sharp features. For a moment, he looked almost...peaceful. But I knew better than to trust appearances.
"You really brought me out here for a stroll?" I asked, my voice laced with uncertainty, unable to shake the tension simmering between us.
Vince turned to face me fully, his hand finally dropping from my back. He stood a few feet away now, but the distance did nothing to diminish the power of his presence. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but there was something new in them—a quiet intensity that unnerved me more than any of his previous commands or cold stares.
"Yes," he said simply, his gaze locked onto mine. "Sometimes it's easier to talk away from the noise."
The noise. That was what he called it—the chaos of his empire, the constant power plays, the business dealings that consumed his life. But here, in this secluded garden, there was no noise. Just us, standing in the twilight, with nothing between us but the unspoken tension that had been building since the moment we met.
I crossed my arms, more out of habit than defense, trying to keep my voice steady. "Talk about what?"
A ghost of a smile played on Vince's lips, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He took a step closer, the space between us shrinking until I could feel the heat of his body again. My heart raced, but I held my ground, refusing to let him see how he affected me.
"About us," he said, his voice softer now, though the weight of his words hit me like a punch to the chest.
I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. Us. The word echoed between us, sinking into the quiet of the garden. My mind reeled, flashing back to the past two days—moments that felt like they belonged to another world, another version of me. I didn't want to think about those stolen kisses, the way they seemed to unravel everything I thought I knew about myself—and about Vince.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words caught in my throat, tangled with the confusion and desire swirling inside me.
Vince pulled back just enough to look at me fully, his eyes locking onto mine with a fierce determination that made my heart skip. His hands slid down my arms, his touch firm but careful, as if he knew exactly how much power he held in that moment. He always knew.
"Sophia," he said, his voice low, steady, and unrelenting. "I don't want this to be something casual, something we can brush aside. I want you. "
I froze. My mind screamed at me to back away, to take a breath, to clear the haze of emotion clouding my judgment. But his words…they lingered, sinking into me like a hook I couldn't shake. He wants us to be together.
Vince never asked for anything. He took. He demanded. Yet here he was, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it, his touch gentle yet commanding, like he was offering me something real. My breath quickened, and the air around us seemed to thicken, heavy with the weight of what he was asking.
"A couple?" I whispered, almost unable to believe what he was saying. "You want us to be...a couple?"
His expression didn't waver. "Yes." His voice was firm, unwavering, like the decision had already been made.
I blinked, trying to process his words, but the confusion in my mind only deepened. I took a half step back, putting some distance between us, and searched his face for some kind of clue. "You...you left the investors' meeting for this?" My voice came out more incredulous than I intended, the disbelief clear. "You brought me out here, to this garden, just to ask if we could be a couple?"
His eyes softened slightly, though his expression remained intense. "Yes," he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Vince," I started, shaking my head slightly, trying to make sense of it all, "this—this doesn't seem like you. You're the last person I'd expect to walk away from something as big as the investors' meeting for...this."