Page 26 of Broken Boss

With the past.

Because I know exactly who these came from. I just don’t know how or why.

The last I knew, he didn’t have enough money to afford a pack of cigarettes. So how the hell did he fill my office with anemones?

Putting my purse in the corner, because there’s no other option, I dig my cell out of my coat pocket and start to text Orla.

What am I going to say, though?

Hey, my ex is back from who knows where and he just filled my office with flowers after he almost beat me to death. Just letting you know! In case he stalks me, shows up at the apartment, and tries to smother me in my bed.

“Oh my gosh, so gorgeous!” another person in the hallway comments.

It’s starting to get irritating, but I can’t think straight. My head is fuzzy with fear, disbelief, and a string of questions.

I toss the phone onto my purse, shuck off my jacket, and close the door. My hands are shaking. I clench them into fists and stare angrily down at this stupid pink dress.

A champagne blush color that I love.

A reminder of who I used to be—before I went to law school.

The young woman living in a rundown apartment building with her father as his kidneys failed. A brother with one foot on the wrong side of the tracks and a boyfriend who could be sweet one moment—bringing me a bouquet of anemones, the prettiest flowers I’d ever seen—and violent the next, his fingers digging into my throat.

I gasp out a breath.

It’s as if he’s here right now, choking me. Spitting threats and reminding me over and over—You’re mine, Autumn. Mine.

The office door bangs open, startling me out of a panic attack. Sucking in a breath, I press a hand to my chest as Chris Sharpe steps in.

His dark eyes rove over the room. They come back to me, take me in from nude-colored heels up, dragging his gaze up the dress clinging to me.

Our eyes meet. I feel like I can breathe again, but there’s something else in the room now.

Rage.

Chris’s voice is deadly quiet, cold, and cuts like a knife.

“What the hell is this?”

Chapter 10

Chris

Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registers that Autumn’s dress matches the light creamy pink of the flowers. Except the fabric draping her curves has a sheen to it, one that appears buttery soft, and no matter how high the neck is on this dress, she still looks sexy and sleek.

“What the hell is this?”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Everyone in the building has been talking about this—the flowers spilling out of an office, the decadence, the romance. It didn’t matter to me until I heard her name.

Moments ago, as I turned the corner coming here, Louise confirmed it.

Oh, it’s Miss Cavendish’s office. She seems so surprised! You’d almost think they were from a secret admirer, but it’s quite extravagant?—

As jealousy and blind rage flood through my veins, Autumn doesn’t move. She has one hand pressed to her chest. Her face is white, fingers trembling, eyes wide.

“Autumn?”

I take a step toward her. She stumbles back, loses her balance on the heels, and I barely catch her. Hefting her body against mine, I draw her toward the two chairs near the balcony entrance. Her skin is cool, too cool to the touch for how warm the office is.

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