Three days later, Bridget was running on fumes. The new field project Jevon had assigned her team was brutal. She hadn't slept more than four hours a night, her eyes burning from staring at spreadsheets.
Her stomach let out a painful cramp. She had skipped breakfast again. During her fifteen-minute lunch break, she ran down to the street and bought a spicy shrimp taco from a food truck, desperate for anything to stop the hunger pains.
She was standing in the company pantry, taking her first massive bite of the taco, when her supervisor burst through the door.
"Bridget! The revised budget needs to be on Mr. Rocha's desk right now. He's waiting!"
Bridget nearly choked. She grabbed the file with her left hand, keeping the half-eaten taco in her right, and sprinted toward the elevators. She didn't have time to throw it away.
When she reached the top floor, she took a deep breath, trying to hide the taco behind the thick manila folder as she pushed open the door to the CEO's office.
Jevon was staring at his computer monitors, his tie loosened, looking deeply irritated by whatever data he was reading.
Bridget stepped up to the desk. She kept her voice flat and professional as she started reciting the core numbers from the budget.
Jevon's eyes slowly drifted from the screen to her face. He noticed a tiny speck of spicy sauce clinging to the corner of her mouth. His gaze darkened instantly.
Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit him. He had been working for thirty hours straight without a single meal. His blood sugar was crashing violently. His eyes dropped to the half-eaten taco Bridget was desperately trying to hide behind the folder.
His body reacted before his brain could stop it.
Jevon leaned across the massive desk. He snatched the half-eaten taco from her trembling hand. He brought it close, his dark eyes fixed on her face, before he tossed the cheap street food directly into his designer wastebasket. "This street food doesn't suit you," he murmured. Then, his gaze dropped to the tiny speck of spicy sauce clinging to the corner of her mouth. He reached out, his thumb brushing against her lower lip with agonizing slowness to wipe away the sauce. Maintaining eye contact, he deliberately brought his thumb to his own mouth and licked the spicy residue off his skin.
Bridget gasped, her eyes widening in absolute shock at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. The file slipped from her fingers, scattering papers across the floor.
Jevon chewed and swallowed. He licked the spicy sauce from his lips, a wicked, triumphant gleam in his eyes as he watched her stand there, completely paralyzed.
But a second later, the triumph vanished.
Jevon's face turned stark white. He gasped for air, his hands flying to his throat. The sound of his breathing turned into a wet, ragged wheeze. Bright, angry red hives began erupting across his neck and jawline.
Bridget's heart stopped. "Mr. Rocha? What's wrong?"
Jevon collapsed back into his leather chair, his fingers clawing at his collar. "Shrimp," he choked out, his eyes rolling back slightly.
Bridget's blood turned to ice. The taco. It was a shrimp taco.
She lunged across the desk, slamming her fist onto the intercom button. "Alex! Help! He can't breathe!" she screamed, tears of pure terror springing to her eyes.
The office doors flew open. Alex sprinted in. He took one look at Jevon's purple face and immediately ripped open the medical kit on the wall. He pulled out an EpiPen, tore off the cap, and slammed the needle directly into Jevon's thigh.
Jevon let out a muffled groan. His chest he heave violently as the adrenaline rushed into his system, forcing his airways open.
Bridget stood in the corner, her face stark white, her whole body shaking violently. But she forced herself to stay upright. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea about your allergy," she said, her voice urgent and rational despite the terror in her eyes. "What do you need? I'll cover all medical expenses, I'll do whatever is necessary to compensate."
Jevon slumped in his chair, his breathing harsh but steady. Even in his weakened state, his dark eyes locked onto Bridget, refusing to look away.
Alex turned around, his face twisted in fury, ready to scream at Bridget.
Jevon raised a trembling hand. "Get out, Alex," he rasped.
Alex hesitated, then stormed out, slamming the door.
The silence in the room was deafening. Jevon stared at Bridget's tear-stained face. A calculating shadow crossed his eyes.
"Attempted murder, Ms. Frank," Jevon said, his voice a rough whisper.
Bridget burst into tears, bowing her head repeatedly. "I am so sorry! I didn't know! I'll pay for the medical bills, I'll do anything!"
Jevon let out a weak, cold laugh. "Do you think your salary covers the life of a billionaire?"
Bridget sobbed, her hands covering her face. "What do you want me to do?"
Jevon leaned forward, the trap finally springing shut. " You will come to my penthouse tonight after work.,You will cook for me,That is your compensation."
