Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
He narrowed his eyes, watching me close the distance with caution.
Good.
He should be cautious.
I stepped like a wild lion closing in on its prey—ready to attack and unleash the pent-up tension.
“How dare you ask if I care when I’m the one analyzing every detail so we can make the best choice for a company I want more than anything but might not even have. And I get to do it while being talked to like I’m a fucking idiot,” I shouted.
“I don’t talk to you like you’re an idiot,” he objected.
“Of course you do,” I shrieked, the grip around my control slipping. “Princess. The boss’s daughter. Daddy’s spoiled little girl. Or how about when you act so surprised when you find out how fucking awesome I am at this job?”
“Aspen—” His face softened. His calm tone was in complete contrast to mine, which was edged with a looming emotional outburst. As if my manic shouting was the reminder he needed of how he found me before. As if it provided him the opening he needed to bring up the last time I lost my shit.
“No,” I yelled, not wanting to give him a chance to talk.
I turned away and faced his desk, hating that this was the second time this man caught me racing toward the fine line of my control in less than a couple of weeks. After I’d spent my whole life hiding it from everyone. With a manic edge to my laugh, I dropped my hands on his desk and hung my head, needing a moment to hide behind the curtain of my hair to collect myself.
Focus, Aspen. Deep breaths.
Interview after interview replayed through my mind like a nightmare I couldn’t get away from.
Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, fo—
My lungs worked overtime, as if I was physically working to evade the memories and running out of steam.
Focus on breathing through it. Focus on con—
I tried. I tried to follow the counting, but each interrupted exhale was ruined by my increasingly panicked hiccupping. The pressure surrounding me got tighter and tighter until I wanted to scream.
Keep it under control. Just until you can walk out with your head held high.
It didn’t matter. Even if I walked with pride, he’d see me as nothing. None of it mattered. No matter how hard I worked. Nothing mattered. The chaotic swirl of panic snapped, slipping through a crack before I could stop it.
“What if whoever I hire runs the company into the ground? What if I don’t even get the chance to buy the majority shares?” The crack cleaved open further, spewing more doubts, fears, and frustrations instead of holding it down where it belonged. “What if I earn those shares, but there’s no company to buy? What if you—”
I bit the words off, unwilling to admit how much his threat to rename the company weighed on me. I dug my fingers into the wood until the tips of my fingers turned white.
Control it, Aspen. Control. You’re in control.
But I wasn’t. I leaned over Lucian’s desk, gasping for air between rants of my biggest insecurities. When was the last time I had this many attacks so close together? The continued onslaught of becoming a slave to my emotions wore me down, and I struggled to rein it back in.
What if I couldn’t?
Maybe I wasn’t what this company needed. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough. Maybe I deserved to lose it all. “God,” I gasped. “What if I lose it all?” Gasp. “What if I—”
Smack.
The sound reached my ears before the sharp sting against my ass resonated in my brain. Before I could react, a large warm body wrapped around me as two hands shackled my wrists, moving them further across the desk, leaving me to fall forward against the hardwood.
“Trust me,” Lucian whispered—ordered. He held me there as if waiting for me to wriggle out from under him, but shock held me steady. Trying to process the prickling sting radiating along my skin like a quiet hum locked me in place.
I couldn’t move. My body utilized every brain cell to piece together the soothing heat surrounding my fraying nerves—holding them together—and the shackles pinning my hands, grounding me when I was seconds from being sucked away.
Then the warmth pulled back, and the hands let go of my wrists. Cold reality washed over me, a harsh and brutal contrast from seconds before. It yanked me back to the situation.
Me panicking.
Because I hated Lucian Daire.
Lucian Daire sneering insults at me.
Because he hated me too.
He wasn’t safe.
He was the reason I kept erupting.
He wasn’t someone to trust.
Ice. Cold. Reality.
My muscles clenched, preparing to bolt.
“Why the hell would I tru—”
Smack. Smack.
Two more strikes—quicker, but just as sharp a sting as the last. Just as warm. Just as soothing.
What the fuck was going on?
I fought the dizzying wave coaxing me to hold still and moved to push myself up, but a large hand splayed across my back, pinning me to the desk.