Page 166 of By His Rule

Nothing about it, especially feelings, was ever going to be real.

I guess it just goes to prove that the decision I made while talking to Tate last night was the right one.

Being anything more than Kian’s assistant is a mistake.

With fire burning through my veins, I grab my laptop from the coffee table and open my emails.

To: Kian Callahan

From: Lorelei Tempest

Subject: Mistakes…

Dear Mr. Callahan,

After careful thought and consideration, I am turning down the proposal you made on Friday night.

I believe that any other outcome would be unprofessional and unethical.

Good luck with your future conquests. I’m sure you’re more than equipped to deal with them.

Regards,

Lorelei Tempest

Assistant—and only an assistant—to Kian Callahan, CFO of Callahan Enterprises

I slam the top of my laptop down hard enough to break the screen.

Another reason why I just did the right thing.

Fuck Kian Callahan.

Fuck him and his pretty little actress and the perfect little babies they’re going to have.

Stuffing my AirPods into my ears, I shove my feet into my sneakers and take off running in the hope I can leave all this behind and never think about it again.

Ryde my dick: Hey, beautiful. Missed me?

Something flutters in my belly at the sight of Ryder’s message.

He’s been away in Europe on a business trip. The time difference has made it hard to continue the sexting we’d embarked on earlier in the week. It was probably for the best while I had my momentary lapse in judgment where Kian was concerned.

But now, that is over, and I can jump back into the thrill of flirting with Ryder, knowing that I’m not putting my heart at risk.

I put off coming home for as long as I could earlier. I knew that I’d have a reply to my email, and I wasn’t ready to deal with his demanding ass.

But to my surprise, when I eventually stumbled back into my apartment on jelly legs, my inbox was missing the email I was expecting.

I could only assume that he was still in bed with his hot actress, and I tried to put all thoughts of them rolling around together out of my head.

Nothing about Kian and his harem of women does anything positive for my confidence.

My inbox has been quiet since. Not that I’ve checked it—and my spam—every thirty minutes or so.

Maybe he just doesn’t care.

Stretching my legs out on the couch, I forget the movie I was watching and dive into chatting with a man who does seem to want my time and attention.

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