Chapter 2 Crossing the Line

The elevator ride down felt like I was descending into a different universe. The hum of the cables was deafening in my ears, and I realized my hands had curled into fists at my sides. I could still feel the echo of his grip, the weight of that handshake. Not welcoming. Not friendly. Possessive.

I told myself it didn't matter. I wasn't supposed to matter. Grey Franklin didn't do attachments. He did transactions. I was nothing more than a problem with a price tag. And yet...

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me from the swirl of thoughts I didn't want. It was my brother. I hadn't answered his calls in two days, not since the hospital sent another bill that made the numbers on my bank statement look like a cruel joke.

I ignored it. For now.

When the doors opened, I stepped out into the lobby, the glass walls reflecting the city in fractured shards. People moved around me, unaware I had just walked out of the lair of a man who could own a skyline-and, somehow, my fate.

Grey's assistant appeared at the bottom of the escalator, a silent reminder that everything was monitored. I wanted to scream at her to leave me alone, but she was already reaching for a folder. My folder. "He requested you review the initial schedule before your first meeting," she said, her tone flat, professional.

I took it from her, flipping through the sheets without reading them. My mind was still stuck on that office, that impossible, untouchable man.

Then a voice-a low, deliberate voice-cut through my thoughts. "You're moving too slowly."

I nearly dropped the papers. I hadn't even noticed him come up beside me. Grey Franklin. Standing so close that I could feel his presence press against my skin like heat. Not intimidation exactly, though that was part of it. It was... certainty. Absolute, unavoidable certainty.

"I-uh-I'm looking over the schedule," I stammered, my voice small.

"Looking is different from understanding," he said. His eyes bored into me, scanning, judging. I felt naked, exposed, as if he could see every thought I'd tried to hide even from myself.

I wanted to run. My instincts screamed at me to turn, leave, never come back. But my feet didn't move. Something in me refused to.

He leaned slightly closer, enough that I could smell the faint, crisp scent of his cologne. It wasn't overpowering, but it lingered like a warning. "You're going to need to adjust," he said. "To survive here, you need to anticipate. Not react. Anticipate."

"I can do that," I whispered, though a small, rebellious part of me wanted to shout that I couldn't. That this wasn't survival. It was surrender.

His lips quirked-not a smile, not even close-but something almost predatory. "We'll see."

He stepped back, and just like that, the spell broke. The world felt sharper again, colder. I clutched my folder and walked toward the exit, trying to pretend my legs weren't trembling.

Outside, the city hit me like a wall. Horns, chatter, the faint smell of exhaust mixed with coffee. People hurried past, oblivious to the storm that had just passed through my chest.

And I realized something dangerous: I was already addicted. Not to him-not exactly. But to the pull of this world, this dangerous, expensive, impossible world where everything was measured, controlled... and where I had no control at all.

The first meeting was a blur of faces, names, titles. People I didn't know, decisions I didn't understand. And through it all, I kept seeing Grey's silhouette at the edge of my mind, a shadow I couldn't shake. He hadn't been there physically, but I could feel him watching. Judging. Waiting.

By the time I left the office that night, the city had darkened. Neon reflected off wet asphalt, and I walked faster, hands stuffed in my pockets, trying to convince myself that this was still my life. My choices. My survival.

But a message lit up my phone.

"Meet me. 8 PM. Private. My office."

No signature. Just Grey.

My chest tightened. My mind screamed at me to say no, to ignore it, to run back to the small apartment I could barely afford, back to the life I was desperate to preserve. But another part of me-the part that had signed that contract, that had crossed a line she could never uncross-felt an undeniable pull.

I knew I would go.

Because some things weren't negotiable. Some things demanded obedience. And Grey Franklin... he always got what he wanted.