Page 57 of The Way You Hurt Me

He chuckles. "Olivia Winslow, heiress toWinslow Oil, Hotels, and Vineyard, is a little above your pay grade, petal."

Oh. Now I've met her, that absolutely makes sense.

"It's weird that she's heiress to all that and worries about paying vet bills," I note.

"That's the thing about inheritances; you get them once your parents are dead, and unfortunately for her, Gilbert is alive and well."

I've reached my cubicle, and we're at the end of my lunch hour, so I regretfully say, "Back at work. Speak later?"

"Later, then."

I'm in a particularly good mood this afternoon, at least until three hours later, when I'm in the break room making a coffee, and a shiver runs down my spine.

I know it's him before I turn to see my boss's boss walk in, and shut the door that always stays open behind him.

Fuck. We're alone.

"Willow. I was so relieved to see you this morning."

I frown, baffled by the remark.

Part of me says I should just smile, nod, and walk away right now, but I hesitate.

"Why, with what happened on Friday, I was ever so worried."

That vague sense of unease morphs into pure panic.

Nothing happened Friday. Not at work, in any case. The only thing that could cause anyone any concern would be…

Oh god. Oh, fuck, no.

He knows. He was watching. He was one of the many faceless, nameless, viewers that I never truly thought of as living, breathing people; just a general audience.

I decide to play dumb. "Oh, the bug on the AI facial recognition AP was an easy fix, actually. I'm working on the report. I should get back to it."

Fast. I'd already be halfway back to my desk if he wasn't remaining in the doorway, blocking the entrance, a seedy smirk on his thin lips.

"You and I both know I wasn't referring to your daytime hours, sweet Willow. Or do you prefer Ruby?"

My blood turn to ice.

Lie, lie, lie.

"Sorry, Ruby?"

"Did you choose the name because of the hair?" he asks. "It suits you."

"I don't know any Ruby," I say, half hoping for him to make a move, because then he'd have to step away from the doorway and I'd be able to leave.

I'm trapped. Again.

But this time, this time I'm not terrified. I know what happened to the last man who tried to touch me against my will. And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I can visit the same fate upon this low life if he dares to touch me.

I just need to let them—him—know I'm in danger.

Maybe this man isn't the same kind of guy as Tom. Maybe he doesn't plan on pinning me to a bed and having his way with me, but he's clearly trying to threaten and blackmail me.

All I know is I need Dimitri.

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