The pen felt slippery in Cinthia's sweating fingers.
"My patience is finite," Adrian said. He checked his watch again.
"It's a standard contract, Ms. Wise," Spencer said, his tone bored. "Standard for billionaires marrying... well, you."
Cinthia's throat was dry as dust. She reached for the glass of water Miles had placed on the coffee table earlier.
Her hand was shaking.
Her elbow knocked into the coffee cup she had brought up earlier-the one sitting on the edge of the table.
Splash.
The cup tipped. Dark, hot liquid cascaded off the table.
It didn't just hit the rug. It splashed onto the grey wool of Adrian's trousers as he stepped forward to grab the pen.
For a second, there was silence.
Then, Adrian recoiled. It was a violent, jerky movement, like he had been burned by acid. His breath hitched, a sharp, audible gasp that was more shocking than a shout.
"Damn it!"
His face went white. Not angry red-white. A stark, bloodless white that tightened the skin over his cheekbones.
Cinthia scrambled up, horrified. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!"
She grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the table. Without thinking, she dropped to her knees and reached out to dab at the stain on his leg.
Her hand brushed his thigh.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
The roar was primal. It wasn't just anger; it was the sound of an animal caught in a trap, raw and terrified.
Adrian didn't just step back; he shoved her hand away. The force of his reaction sent Cinthia toppling backward.
She fell hard. Her knee cracked against the sharp corner of the solid oak coffee table.
Pain exploded up her leg. A sharp, blinding spike of agony that made her gasp.
She curled into a ball on the rug, clutching her knee.
The room went deathly still.
Spencer stood up slowly, his playful smile gone. He looked at Adrian.
Adrian was breathing hard. His chest heaved. He was staring at the spot where she had touched him, his eyes dilated with something that looked terrifyingly like panic. He was trembling.
It wasn't just anger. It was something else. Something broken.
"Adrian," Spencer said softly. "Easy."
Adrian squeezed his eyes shut. He took a ragged breath, forcing the monster back into its cage.
"Miles," he rasped.
Miles was already there, helping Cinthia sit up. "Sir?"
"Get her to sign," Adrian said, his voice hollow. "Spencer, get out. Everyone get out."
He turned and walked stiffly toward the private bathroom attached to the office. He slammed the door. The lock clicked.
Cinthia sat on the floor, tears stinging her eyes. Her knee throbbed with a dull, sickening heat.
Spencer looked down at her. He didn't offer to help her up.
"You should sign it," he said. His voice was colder now. "You triggered him. Not a smart move on day one."
Triggered?
Cinthia wiped her eyes. She grabbed the pen. Her hand shook, but she forced the nib onto the paper.
Cinthia Wise.
She signed her life away.
"Done," she whispered.
Miles handed her a tissue. "Come with me, Ma'am."
"Don't call me Ma'am," she sniffled, pulling herself up. Her knee buckled, but she forced it straight.
She limped to the elevator.
When the doors opened on the 14th floor, Giana and three other secretaries were standing near the water cooler. They went silent as Cinthia limped past, her eyes red, her knee throbbing.
They exchanged looks. Excited, malicious looks.
Cinthia kept her head down and walked to her desk. She wanted to disappear. But she knew, with a sinking feeling, that the show was just beginning.
