Chapter 6
Fernando's POV
I stepped into my study with confidence only to stop in my tracks when I saw him-Michael-standing silently beside my desk.
His presence was as unexpected as it was audacious, and immediately, my pulse quickened with a mix of irritation and delight.
I closed the door behind me softly, the click echoing in the quiet room, and took measured steps toward him.
"What a surprise," I said, my voice low and inviting, yet laced with a dangerous edge. "I wasn't expecting a guest in my study this evening."
Michael's eyes flickered, guarded yet defiant, as he attempted a measured response.
"The door was open," he replied, his tone calm but steady.
I arched a brow, a smirk playing at the corners of my mouth.
"The door was open, was it?" I repeated, letting the words hang in the air.
He shifted his weight, a motion that betrayed his inner discomfort, but he quickly masked it with a shrug.
"Yes," he said simply.
I took another deliberate step forward, watching as his posture tensed and he instinctively moved back-only to find his retreat stopped by the solid, unyielding presence of my desk behind him.
He was trapped, his only escape cut off by the imposing barrier of polished wood and my own advancing form.
I leaned in closer, my presence overwhelming, my eyes never leaving his.
"Tell me, Michael... what exactly were you doing in my study?" I asked, my voice a murmur that seemed to vibrate with both menace and desire.
He swallowed hard, and for a moment, I saw the vulnerability beneath his practiced composure.
"I saw the door open," he said, his voice steadying despite the tension. "I assumed it was unguarded, so I entered."
A slow, amused chuckle escaped me.
"You expect me to believe that?" I asked.
I reached out and, with a deliberate slowness, cupped his chin in my hand. I forced his eyes to meet mine, letting my thumb trace the line of his jaw.
His skin was warm under my touch, and I savored the power of that moment.
"Or perhaps you're simply curious," I whispered, my voice now soft and seductive. "Curious about things you shouldn't be, and about men you shouldn't dare to admire."
He shuddered under my gaze, a silent admission of both fear and something else.
"I'm not... I mean, I didn't mean-" he stammered, struggling to find words as his heart pounded in his ears.
"Silence," I commanded, my voice firm. "I don't want to hear excuses. I want the truth."
His eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw him waver.
"I told you-the door was open," he repeated, as if that simple statement could absolve him of any wrongdoing.
I let my fingers linger on his skin before releasing him slowly.
I stepped even closer, my body almost brushing his, and continued, voice dropping to a whisper.
"Look at me, Michael. I want to see it-every hidden emotion. I want to know what makes you tick. I want to feel the heat behind those guarded eyes."
He hesitated, his face flushed as he fought his inner turmoil.
"Boss, please... I'm not lying," he said softly, as if pleading for mercy. "If you doubt me, check for Marlo's tag on me. I don't have it."
I laughed-a rich, throaty sound that resonated in the dim light of my study.
"You suggest that I search you?" I scoffed, feigning outrage as I stepped back slightly. "How insolent can you be, Michael? To propose that your own boss stoop to such common measures."
His eyes darkened with a mix of fear and something that looked almost like desperation.
"I'm sorry, Boss," he replied quickly, his voice low. "I meant no disrespect. I just-"
"Enough," I snapped.
I stepped forward again, closing the space between us until his back pressed firmly against the cold, smooth surface of my desk.
I could feel his heat radiating against me, a reminder that he was flesh and blood-and undeniably attractive.
I pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken beneath my palm.
"I hate it," I whispered into his ear, my voice a mix of scorn and seduction, "when you look at me with such hateful eyes. It stings, Michael. It makes me wonder what you truly feel."
His eyes darted away for a moment, but then he met my gaze again, steadier now, though laced with confusion.
"I-I'm sorry," he managed, his voice catching. "I didn't mean-"
"Shut up," I interrupted abruptly, my tone soft yet commanding. I held his gaze, unwilling to let him speak, savoring the charged silence that enveloped us. "I want you to listen," I said slowly, "to understand that your insolence both infuriates and intrigues me. I find your defiance... delectable."
For a long moment, he said nothing, his eyes searching mine.
He tried to pull his face away, but my hand held him firmly.
His eyes searched mine, pleading silently for some understanding, some release from the torment of his own heart.
"Boss," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry if I upset you-I never meant to disrespect you or your rules."
I paused, the intensity of our shared silence filling the space between us.
Before Michael could form another word, I seized his face in my hands, my gaze locking onto his with an intensity that bordered on possessive.
"You irritate me, Michael," I said again, "but you also intrigue me more than you know. I want to peel back every layer of your guarded soul-until there is nothing left but raw truth."
His eyes shone with a mixture of defiance and submission, and for a long, breathless moment, neither of us spoke.
Finally, Michael managed to whisper,
"I...I don't know what you want from me, Boss."
I allowed a slow, predatory smile to appear my lips as I released his face, stepping back just enough to let him feel the lingering warmth of my gaze.
"What I want, Michael, is simple," I said, my voice both commanding and tender. "I want you to understand that in my world, there is no room for lies."
He took a shuddering breath, his eyes softening as he looked up at me.
"I am honest," he vowed, voice quiet but determined. "I'm not lying."
Although he said those words, my gut kept telling me he was lying, and my gut was never wrong.
Okay, since he doesn't want to tell me the truth, I'll continue playing this game.
It had only just begun, and I was more than willing to see it through.
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