Page 195 of Auctioned

“You’ll have to kill me first,” I warn. I skip the part where one of his accomplices is already dead. None of his business. “Son.”

Rage paints his face purple. His hand is on his pants pocket, over the outline of a rectangle—his phone.

“Call Camden. Go ahead, try killing me here. Now.” I jerk my chin back, gesturing to the office. My hand clasps tighter around Ophelia. “See how fast everyone jumps ship. They’re loyal to Oliver and me first. Worse still, they’ll take photos. Videos. You won’t be able to blackmail your way out of killing me here for no reason.”

He considers this. I let him, reveling at how rattled he looks.

“This isn’t over, James.” That’s the first time he’s called me by my name. He won’t get to do that for much longer. “You’ll pay for this. I swear you will.”

Ophelia’s presence is hot on my back.

She hates him for the things he says. Infuriated by the idea of anyone hurting me.

I can’t stand the thought of anyone touching her just as bad if not worse.

It jars me how feral, how out of control I am when it comes to her.

Nothing to do but accept it, I guess. Worth it.

All of it.

Then…a foreboding feeling creeps up my spine.

Despite Ophelia’s show of strength, something’s up with her. I need her out of here. I need to hear what kind of filth he’s poisoned her mind with.

“Good luck taking me down.” I take a step forward. He shrinks into the wall. Jesus, I raised him fucking better. “Back to work. Don’t you dare go anywhere near Ophelia again, or it’ll be the last thing you do.”

I’m being a prick, pretending like his death sentence hasn’t already been given.

I haven’t stayed alive and thriving this long by playing by the rules.

“Get out.” I gesture to the door, guiding Ophelia back to the sink, still behind me. Still safe.

“Fine.” Topher rolls his eyes and storms out.

Once the door closes behind him, I turn to Ophelia. She gazes up at me, her wide dark eyes framed by dark eyeshadow and thick mascara. Exceptional. And alive.

Without the damn red marks that have faded while I put Topher in his place.

Focusing on work with her here will be challenging. Focusing on anything now is hell. I have to be inside her. Have to make her feel better.

After I understand what the hell is wrong with her. In my office. Not in the restroom, for crying out loud.

I place my hand on the small of her back and open the door for her. “After you.”

She nods. Quiet as she slides past me.

My pulse thunders between my ears.

I’ll fix this. I’ll always fix everything for her.

The walk to my office is uneventful. When we reach it, Andrea is busy on a phone call. Hardly notices us.

She won’t even hear or see us soon when we go into my office, where my soundproof walls will swallow up Ophelia’s screams.

I put my lips to Ophelia’s ear. “Go inside and wait for me behind my desk,” then, “Andrea.”

“Hold on, please,” she tells the person on the other line, clicking the hold button. “Yes, Mr. Hawthorne?”

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