Page 151 of Guarded King

Sophie raises an eyebrow at the name but says nothing. I was sure Tate was here to talk to Roman about the tabloids, especially after the little wink he gave me on the way into his office, but maybe it really was just business.

Sophie’s the one who found the photos and brought them to my attention, but maybe Roman hasn’t actually seen them yet.

That only makes me more nervous.

Sophie makes me click through a few more sites, each one sharing the same damn photo. Several clicks in, we find a different picture—one taken as we were leaving that same meeting. I swallow. Again, there’s nothing blatantly inappropriate about how we’re touching, but the way I’m smiling up at him? My expression gives away everything I’m feeling.

No woman looks at her boss like that. Not unless there’s something more going on.

“Girl, you’ve got it bad.” Sophie’s voice is softer now.

The door to Roman’s office swings open, and Tate strides out wearing a frown. The expression shifts when he spots me, though his smile is nowhere near his usual easygoing one.

Unease trickles through my veins.

He nods at Sophie, who pats me on the shoulder, and mouths, “We’ll talk later” before hurrying after him.

My heart drums too loudly against my ribs, a sensation scarily reminiscent of the one I felt when Geoff called me in to tell me my fate a few short months ago.

Five minutes later, Roman buzzes me again and asks me to come into his office. Anxiety slides into my bloodstream, thick and cold, and I take a steadying breath before pushing his door open and walking in.

Behind his desk, he sits with his head lowered, shoulders a taut line. By the time I come to a stop in front of him, my legs are actually trembling.

Finally, he looks up at me, his usually clear gray eyes shadowed.

“Are you okay?” I manage to ask with only a faint tremor in my voice. “I saw the photos. I’m sorry. I know this is the last thing you wanted.”

He stands and walks around his desk. “Don’t apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

When he pulls me against him, all my muscles loosen, and I sink into his embrace. But as much as I want to stay there, I don’t linger—too conscious of the unlocked door behind me.

He strokes up and down my arms, his large hands warming me through my blouse. “This obviously isn’t ideal. I would have preferred to go public on our own terms so we could manage the narrative. Thankfully, there’s nothing definitive out there. So until the buzz around Dad’s death fades and the tabloids lose interest, I’ve arranged a position for you at Wright Construction.It’ll keep you out of the spotlight until I can handle the situation.”

The anxiety crawling through my veins turns to ice.What?“You’re moving me?”

He searches my face, lips tugging down at the corners. “You’ll receive the same pay, and the King Group will continue covering your father’s home care.”

The earth shifts beneath me. It takes all my focus not to stumble as I take a step back from him. “That’s not the point. You said my job was safe.”

He rakes his hand through his dark hair, frustration flicking in his eyes. “It is. This is temporary—just until the EcoTech acquisition goes through and things calm down. The media’s looking for a scandal, and I don’t want you caught in the middle of it.”

I shake my head, trying to understand his thought process. But Katherine’s words from the convention echo in my mind, slicing into me like shards of glass.The company will always be Roman’s priority.

Nausea rises in my throat, leaving an acid burn.

The sensation is too familiar. It’s like that day years ago when I realized Mom was gone and she was never coming back. Like the moment I found out that Dad’s illness meant he couldn’t paint any more. Or the day he fell, when I knew he couldn’t live alone any longer.

Once again, the rug is being pulled out from under me.

To Roman, this may seem like a simple solution—no more than a snap of his fingers, a temporary move. But to me, it’s proof of how much I’ve risked. God, how could I have been so stupid, letting my dream of a future with him blind me to reality?

This could so easily be the end of our relationship. Just like that. One decision made, one simple phone call, and it’s over. We haven’t made any real commitments. Despite his assurances,nothing is stopping him from sending me away for good. He says my pay will stay the same, but for how long? If I’m no longer working for him, and if we’re no longertogether, how easy would it be for my salary to be cut? He could change his mind about me at any moment, and all the safety and stability I’ve worked so hard for—for Dad and me—would be gone. Tossed aside at someone else’s whim. Again.

“I think…” My breath shudders out of me. “I think maybe we should take a step back.”

His brows slam together. “What?”

I wet my lips, my throat suddenly dry. “Things have gotten complicated. If you need me to take this job, I will. But maybe we should take a break, give ourselves time to figure out what we really want. What we need.”

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