Gabriel''s POV

    I checked the time again.

    Ten minuteste.

    iressa was neverte.

    In all the time I''d worked with her, she''d never kept me waiting—at least not without a damn good reason. Once, maybe twice, she''d cut it close, but only because I''d sent her a meeting briefte. She never made excuses. She never let things slip.

    I kept my expression neutral, but inside, my thoughts were already spiraling. If she wasn''t here yet, something was wrong—and I had a damn good idea what. This had Adrian written all over it.

    He''d screwed something up. Again.

    I looked across the boardroom table at Randolph-CEO of Randolph Corporation. He sat stiff in a tailored suit, lips pressed into a line of disapproval. The impatience practically rolled off him.

    His board members surrounded him like statues-silent, unsmiling, their expressions heavily judgmental.

    Randolph tapped his fingers in an edgy rhythm against the glossy oak surface, then narrowed his eyes, locking onto me with an impatient re.

    "Gabriel," his voice came low and tensed with a subtle warning, "you know how much I hate being kept waiting."

    I offered a patient, measured smile-calm but firm. "My team is neverte. They''re on their way. Should be here any moment."

    I paused, meeting his gaze. Lying to someone like him left too much room for humiliation.

    Especially when I had no idea where iressa was or what was holding her up. I''d already messaged Tems, told him to find her and bring her here immediately- no matter what it took.

    Randolph leaned back, clearly unimpressed.

    I didn''t wait for him to press further.

    "But let''s not forget," the words slid out smoothly, easing the pressure back his way, "we were supposed to deliver this pitch in a month. Instead, you gave us... what, three days? No prior notice, no chance for extensions-nothing but the weight of the Randolph name."

    That got a few stiff chuckles from the board. Even Randolph''s stone face cracked slightly.

    I nodded once, firm but respectful. "They''ll be here. And they''ll deliver a great presentation."

    And right then, as if summoned by the thinnest thread of hope, the boardroom doors opened.

    iressa walked in-steps unsure, breath quick, face a shade too pale.

    I noticed instantly. Something was wrong.

    My eyes moved past her, expecting Adrian to follow.

    But it wasn''t him.

    It was Nicole.

    Just Nicole, clutching aptop like a shield as she stepped in behind iressa.

    No Adrian.

    "Damn it." The words slipped out under my breath.

    My chest tightened. My suspicions were right. Adrian screwed it up. Again.

    As she approached, her head stayed down, hands fumbling slightly with the folder

    she carried. When she reached the table, she stopped.

    Her gaze darted everywhere-the screen, the chairs, the board-anywhere but

    me.

    She took a breath, straightened slightly, then lifted her chin just enough to speak.

    A soft smile touched her lips. “Mr. Storm,” she began, still refusing to meet my eyes, her voice silky, almost too calm as it cut through the tension. "I apologize for the dy."

    I rose halfway, offering a formal nod. “This is Ms. Hartwood and Ms. Wilkins," I said, gesturing toward iressa and Nicole. "They''ll be presenting on behalf of my team today."

    She turned to Randolph with practiced grace and dipped her head slightly.

    "Mr. Randolph, once again, we sincerely apologize for keeping you waiting."

    Then she smiled.

    Elegant. Poised.

    "But I can assure you," she added, "it''ll be worth the wait."

    Itnded.

    The temperature in the room shifted-just slightly. Randolph''s focus settled on her, his interest unmistakable. A few board members uncrossed their arms.

    Stepping toward the projector, she drew a slow breath as the screen lit up with our expansion n. Calmly, she walked them through the goals, the budget, the projected results.

    I should''ve been focused on the numbers. The charts. The bored, expectant faces

    of the Randolph team. On the stakes riding on every slide.

    But I wasn''t.

    My gaze was locked on her. Watching. Studying. Wanting.

    I wanted to be angry. I needed to be.

    She had one job-get Adrian in line. And he didn''t show. But how could I me her? I knew exactly who my son was.

    No, the fury burning in my chest wasn''t for her. It was for him-my arrogant, self- absorbed, spineless son who couldn''t pull off one simple task.

    Who kept proving, again and again, why he would never be ready to carry any legacy I built.

    He couldn''t pull off one simple task. And now, he''d left iressa to drown. And yet... she wasn''t drowning.

    She was holding it together, even if the nerves were there. I saw it-the slight tremble in her hands as she clicked to the next slide. But the more she spoke, the steadier she became her voice growing clearer, more confident. Sentence by sentence, she found her footing.

    All through, she hadn''t spared me a single nce.

    Or maybe this was her way of punishing me.

    For setting her up to fail.

    For throwing her into this mess.

    For forcing her to turn Adrian into the face of the pitch-when she''d already told

    me he wasn''t ready.

    But I pushed anyway.

    I didn''t care.

    I just wanted it over. Done. Off my te.

    Because deep down, I couldn''t stomach it couldn''t stand her spending any more

    time with my son.

    I didn''t want her near him.

    I wanted her with me. And only me.

    I wasn''t ready to lose her. Not yet.

    And that need-reckless, frustrating-burned through every ounce of anger I

    thought I''d felt.

    The more she held the room in the palm of her hand, the more everything in me twisted into something else.

    Something raw.

    Darker.

    Hungrier.

    It pulsed through me-low and consuming and I couldn''t stop my eyes from dragging over her like I had every right to.

    She wore deep navy trousers that clung to her hips like sin, emphasizing the

    curve of her waist and hugging the shape of her ass in a way that made my blood heat. Her waist was so narrow I could''ve spanned it with both hands—and I wanted to.

    Her shirt was fitted, tucked in just

    right, dipping at the neckline to

    reveal a tease of caramel cleavage that begged to be kissed. Her

    hair-brown waves-fer

    over her shoulders. Not styled too precisely. Not trying too hard. She

    didn''t have to.

    She was beauty, weaponized-wrapped in maddening sensuality and effortless

    grace.

    The kind of woman who walked into a room and owned it without lifting a finger.

    And God help me, I wanted to ruin all of it.

    My eyes dropped to her lips-glossed, full, pink.

    Fuck.

    Kissable.

    I watched the way they moved as she spoke. Clear. Intentional. Owning every

    breath, every word.

    She didn''t know what she was doing to me.

    Or maybe... she did.

    God, I wanted to taste her. Right now. Right here.

    I wanted to crush my mouth to hers until she stopped speaking-until her perfect sentences shattered on her tongue and she melted into me, wanted to slip my tongue past her lips and swallow her moan-the soft, pleading kind she gave me when she wanted more without having to say a word.

    The kind that burned through me like wildfire.

    I imagined standing, dismissing the whole damn room with a warning look,

    mming the boardroom door shut.

    Taking two long strides, I''d grab her by the waist lifting her clean off the floor. Her legs would wrap around me instinctively, locking me to her. I''d press her against the wall, letting her feel just how hard I was for her how much I needed her. Then

    she''d dig her heels into my back, pulling me closer, pushing me deeper, needing more of my throbbing cock-more heat, more pressure, more of everything I''d

    been holding back.

    Then I''dy her out on the boardroom table-oak, wide, solid—and strip every

    inch of fabric from her body like it offended me.

    I''d drop to my knees and swipe my tongue across her slick heat—because I knew

    she''d be dripping wet the second I spread her open for me.

    Lick. Suck. Devour.

    I''d worship every inch of her until she was breathless, shaking, fingers tangled in

    my hair, begging me-hoarse and desperate to take her.

    Then I''d bury myself inside her.

    Slow. Deep.

    Until she remembered exactly what it felt like to have me inside her.

    Until her body clenched around mine and I drove into her harder, faster-until the

    table shook beneath us and the only sound in the room was her moaning my

    name like it was the only word she knew.

    Because I knew her.

    Knew every response.

    Every sound.

    Every need.

    And I knew I was the only one who could give it to her like that.

    A deep, throbbing ache tightened in my pants.

    Fuck. I was hard—right there under the damn table.

    I clenched my jaw, trying to will it away, to suppress the desire burning through

    me, the images ravaging my mind like fire.

    I wasn''t supposed to be thinking like this.

    Not here.

    Not now.

    Not in a room full of men watching her-listening to her, judging her.

    I was supposed to be evaluating her.

    I was supposed to be furious.

    But all I could think about was how badly I wanted her-and how much I hated the

    fact that she no longer belonged to me.

    Then the boardroom door burst open, banging against the wall with a loud crack.

    All heads turned.

    Adrian walked in.

    Late.

    As always.