Page 16 of Stalked By the Executive

“I have something for you,” I murmur.

Her eyes flutter open as I retrieve the velvet box from my pocket.

I flip it open to reveal the diamond necklace within, a symbol of possession and commitment.

“Marcus,” she breathes, eyes widening at the extravagant gift.

“You’re mine now, in every way that matters.” My tone brooks no argument.

“Every way,” she echoes softly.

The diamonds wink in the candlelight, a visible claim that marks her as my own.

Satisfaction swells within my chest at the sight.

She is mine, now and forever. No matter the cost.

Charlotte stares down at the necklace, conflicting emotions warring behind her eyes.

Her hands clench into fists where they rest on the table, knuckles turning white under the strain.

I can see the thoughts racing through her mind, weighing desire against danger, passion against prudence.

“You don’t approve.” My tone is deceptively mild.

She flinches at the accusation, gaze snapping up to meet mine.

“No, that’s not—the necklace is beautiful. Extravagant.” She worries her lower lip between teeth, hesitating.

“But?” I prompt when she remains silent.

She takes a deep breath, seeming to gather her courage.

“But this, whatever is between us, it’s moving so fast. I don’t know if I can keep up.”

I reach across the table, grasping her hands in my own. Her fingers tremble within my grip.

“There’s no need to be afraid.” My voice is a low croon, meant to soothe.

“I would never do anything to hurt you.”

The words taste like ashes on my tongue. I think of how I've been stalking her, how betrayed she would feel if she knew. I ignore the bitterness.

“We were meant to be together, Charlotte. Can’t you feel that?”

She stares at our joined hands, brow furrowing. I give her hands a gentle squeeze.

“I just want you to be sure,” she says softly. “Be sure this is what you really want. Before we go any further.”

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She searches my face, looking for any sign of deception.

Finding none, her expression softens into a shy, tremulous smile.

“Okay,” she whispers. “I’m yours.”

Triumph surges within me once more.

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