The day erupted before it even began. A call from a client had gone wrong, urgent messages pinged across his tablet, and the office was suddenly alive with chaos.
Adrian moved through it all like a predator, precise, commanding, every gesture cutting through confusion. I followed his lead, notebook clutched, trying to anticipate his needs before he even spoke.
"You're behind me," he said, not unkindly, yet his voice carried the weight of authority that made my stomach tighten.
"I'm trying to keep up," I replied, breathless, every step measured.
"Trying isn't enough," he said, stopping abruptly. He turned, and the proximity stole my breath. His dark eyes bore into mine, calculating, sharp. "Focus. Now."
I nodded, aware that even a small hesitation could unravel everything.
Hours passed in a blur of calls, corrections, and client demands. At one point, he appeared by my side, leaning over my shoulder to point at a detail I had overlooked. The scent of his cologne hit me unexpectedly, sharp and intoxicating. My pulse leapt; heat pooled in my chest.
"Careful," he murmured, voice low, almost a warning—and something more. "Mistakes have consequences."
"I… understand," I whispered, my hands trembling slightly.
He straightened but didn't move away. His gaze lingered, electric, unyielding. For a moment, it felt as if the chaos around us had disappeared, leaving just the two of us in a charged, fragile bubble.
Later, when the crisis subsided, Adrian reclined in his chair, watching me with an intensity I couldn't place. "You held up," he said softly, but the way he said it carried a weight that went beyond praise.
"I did what I had to," I replied, voice tight.
"Good," he murmured, but his eyes stayed on mine longer than necessary. The unspoken tension between us hummed, almost unbearable.
Alone later, I realized how close we had come—not just physically, but in understanding, in reliance. The invisible tether felt stronger, tighter, and more impossible to resist.
Adrian Blackwood controlled everything—his empire, his schedule, his world.
And somehow, impossibly, he was controlling me too.