Page 62 of Worth the Fall

"You can’t just barge in here and boss me around," I snap, meeting his gaze head-on. If he’s determined to confront me, I won’t let him think I’m shrinking away from this.

A flicker of a smile touches his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s the kind of smile that tells me he’s not backing down. He takes two measured steps forward, closing the distance between us until I can feel the warmth radiating from him.

"That’s exactly what I’m going to do," he says, his voice low and steady but with a fierce determination that leaves no room for argument. "Because I’m not letting us fall apart over something that can be fixed."

His words hit like a punch to the chest, and my resolve wavers as I stare up at him. My heart thuds painfully, the intensity of his gaze unraveling my defenses.

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

"Miguel," I say sharply, my tone a warning.

He holds up a finger, silencing me with a single gesture. "Sit," he commands, motioning toward my chair.

"You can’t just?—"

"Sit, Mia," he repeats, his voice calm but unyielding, the kind of tone that brooks no argument.

I cross my arms, glaring at him as a surge of frustration courses through me. "You can’t boss me around like this. This is my office."

"Then act like the boss and sit down," he retorts, one brow arching as he presses a button on his phone and holds it to his ear.

Letting out a groan of exasperation, I roll my eyes and drop back into my chair. "This is ridiculous."

He doesn’t respond. His attention is now fully on the phone, his expression unreadable but charged with purpose.

"Celine," he says after a beat, his tone calm but carrying a blade-sharp edge. The sound of her name makes my stomach knot, the weight of this moment pressing down on me harder than ever.

My eyes widen as I realize what he’s doing. "Miguel, no!" I lunge from my seat, reaching for the phone, but he sidesteps me with ease, holding me at bay with one hand while keeping the phone pressed to his ear with the other.

"Hello, Miguel," I hear Celine’s smooth, clipped tone through the phone. "What a surprise."

Miguel steps back, his hand on my shoulder to keep me at arm’s length as I try to wrestle the phone from him. It’s an absolutely ridiculous sight—I’m practically climbing over my desk, and he’s holding me off like it’s some sort of game.

"Celine," he says, ignoring my protests and kicking the door shut with his foot for good measure. "Did you just sign on with Harrison & Brooks?"

I freeze, my hands gripping his arm as Celine answers.

“Sounds like a question an attorney would know better than to ask someone,” she says, her voice now laced with curiosity. “Why do you ask?”

Miguel glances at me, his eyes narrowing. “Because I’m standing in Mia’s office, and she looks like she’s about to have a full blown meltdown after telling me she can’t do this anymore.”

“Miguel!” I hiss, shoving at his arm, but he steps away again, his calm demeanor somehow both infuriating and impressive. “I am handling this!”

“Why does this matter to you?” Celine asks, her tone now tinged with suspicion.

“Don’t.” The word is a threat. “Don’t you fucking dare do this Celine.”

It’s silent and I swear I can feel the weight of her smirk even through the phone. “My legal matters aren’t your business anymore.”

“Celine,” he says warningly, his voice dropping an octave.

My stomach twists as Miguel lets out a sharp breath. “You’re unbelievable, Celine,” he says, his tone low and biting. “She hung up on me.”

He pulls the phone away from his ear, shaking his head in disbelief. He tosses the phone onto my desk and turns to me, his jaw tight, his eyes blazing with frustration.

“So—

“She knew you worked here,” he says, his voice tight. “She picked your firm because of you.”

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