Chapter 2 Terms and Conditions

I didn't remember walking out of the boardroom.

One second I was standing in front of Dominic Russo, agreeing to six months of emotional torture. The next, I was in the hallway, my pulse roaring in my ears. Six months. Six months working directly under the man who believed I betrayed him. "You look like you've seen a ghost." I turned sharply. Dominic stood at the end of the corridor, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. Of course he followed me.

"You're enjoying this," I said flatly.

He walked toward me, slow and controlled. "Enjoying what?"

"Watching me cornered."

A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. "You were never good at hiding when you feel trapped."

My stomach tightened. He remembered too much.

"You forced my hand," I said.

"No," he corrected calmly. "I gave you options."

"Blackmail isn't an option."

His eyes darkened slightly. "Neither is betrayal."

The word lingered between us like smoke.

I crossed my arms, trying to steady myself. "You don't know the full story."

"Then enlighten me."

The challenge was quiet. Dangerous. I hesitated.

Because the truth would unravel more than just his anger. "You wouldn't believe me," I said finally. "Try me."

For a second-just one second-I saw it. The old Dominic. The one who would have listened. But that version of him was gone. Replaced by the man who rebuilt his empire brick by brick after it crumbled. "You've already decided who I am," I said softly. "Why would my explanation matter?"

His jaw tightened. "You left without a word," he said. "You disappeared the night the audit surfaced. The night my father accused me of embezzlement. The night investors pulled out."

His voice lowered. "You think that was coincidence?" My throat closed. No. It wasn't.

But not in the way he thought.

"You chose silence," he continued. "And silence is guilt."

"That's not fair."

"Life wasn't fair either," he snapped.

The sudden edge in his tone startled me. For the first time, I saw the crack beneath his control. "You have no idea what it cost me to leave," I whispered. His expression shifted-just slightly.

"Then why did you?" The question wasn't cold.

It was raw. And that made it worse. Because I couldn't tell him. Not yet. "I had reasons," I said carefully. "That's not an answer." "It's the only one you're getting." Something hardened in his eyes. "Fine." He stepped closer, and the space between us shrank to nothing. "If we're doing this," he said quietly, "we're doing it my way."

I swallowed. "Meaning?" "Meaning there will be boundaries." A bitter laugh escaped me. "From the man who just blackmailed me?" "Professional boundaries," he clarified, ignoring my sarcasm. "You will address me as Mr. Russo in public. You will attend events when requested. You will not speak about our past."

"And if I do?" His gaze locked onto mine. "Then I won't protect you from the consequences." A chill slid down my spine. "You're not protecting me," I said. His voice dropped. "You'd be surprised." The elevator doors opened beside us with a soft chime, but neither of us moved. "There's something else," he added. I braced myself. "The engagement gala next week." "You still haven't explained that." "It's my company's annual partnership event," he said. "Major investors. Media coverage." "And you need me there because...?" "Because rumors travel fast."

My stomach twisted.

He studied my face carefully. "You think you're the only one who suffered when you left?" The question caught me off guard. "I had to answer questions," he continued. "About why my fiancée vanished." My breath stopped.

Fiancée. He said it like a reminder. Like a weapon.

"You never denied it publicly," I whispered.

"No," he said evenly. "I let them believe what they wanted."

"And what was that?"

"That you weren't strong enough to handle pressure."

The sting hit deeper than I expected.

"That's cruel."

"It was convenient."

Anger flared inside me.

"You let them paint me as weak?"

"You painted yourself that way when you ran."

The words felt like a slap.

"I didn't run."

"You disappeared."

"I was protecting you!"

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Silence fell instantly. Dominic's eyes sharpened.

"Protecting me from what?" My heart pounded violently. Careful.

Careful. "From the scandal," I corrected quickly. "The media would have destroyed both of us."

He didn't look convinced. "You always assume you know what's best," he said quietly. "And you always assume I'm the villain." His gaze softened for the briefest second. Then it hardened again. "This isn't about who's right," he said. "It's about what happens next." He stepped back, restoring space-but not distance. "Six months," he repeated.

"You work for me. You follow my terms. And maybe-maybe-I'll decide whether the past is worth digging into."

"Maybe?" I echoed.

His expression turned unreadable again.

"Or maybe I'll decide I prefer you exactly where you are."

"And where is that?"

His eyes traveled slowly over my face.

"Close enough to watch."

My pulse skipped."That sounds less like business and more like control." He didn't deny it. "Be ready at seven next Thursday," he said. "I'll pick you up." "I can get there myself." "I'm aware."

His gaze held mine steadily. "But I don't want you arriving alone." The implication lingered.

Possessive. Calculated. Dangerous. He turned toward the elevator, stepping inside. The doors began to close-but before they did, he spoke again.

"One more thing, Elena." I forced myself not to react.

"If you're planning to run again..."

His eyes locked onto mine through the narrowing gap.

"This time, I will follow."

The doors slid shut. And for the first time in five years- I wasn't sure which one of us should be afraid.