Chapter 5 The Office

Chapter 5: The Office

Emily's POV

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I was sat on the edge of my bed, tracing my fingers absently along the pattern on the blanket, when suddenly there came a sharp knock at the door. Before I could reply, it swung open and in strode a tall, sharply dressed woman, with a no-nonsense expression and a precision in her movements which reminded me of Michael.

"Miss Emily," she said briskly and official-sounding. "Mr. Jordan has requested to see you in his office. Now."

The knot in my stomach tightened. I had been fortunate enough to avoid him since our last.incident, and I'd been hoping for a little longer without his presence. But naturally, I couldn't be that lucky.

"Why does he want to see me?" I tried to ask steadily.

"I don't question his motives," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Neither should you. Please, follow me."

She spun hard on her heel and didn't wait to see if I'd follow. I hesitated, weighing the option of just ignoring her and staying in my room, but my gut told me it would only get worse that way. Reluctantly, I rose and followed her down the long, dead-silent hallway. The pulse was pounding in my ears as we walked each step closer to what Michael had in store.

We stopped in front of a big, wooden door. He nodded briskly and opened it for me to go in, after two raps. I stepped inside-my heart beating fast-as I took in the sights.

Michael sat behind an imposing desk, his dark eyes fixed on me the moment I walked in. His office was spacious, lined with shelves of books and leather-bound journals, the walls painted a deep, moody gray. A low lamp cast a warm glow across the room, giving it an almost intimate feel that unsettled me.

"Emily," he said smoothly, easing back in his chair. He indicated the chair across from him. "Sit."

I looked over at him and then crossed over to sit down trying to keep my face neutral. His gaze held onto me, something in his eyes burning bright, and I felt the urge to glance away, but I forced myself to hold his stare.

"You've been... quiet," he said, his voice low, almost amused. "Good. I was beginning to think you were going to make this difficult."

"Is there something you needed?" I asked, trying to sound as indifferent as possible.

He smirked, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "I thought it was time we got to know each other a little better."

My chest tightened, but I made myself stay composed. "I already know more than enough."

His smirk broadened. "Do you? I think you'll find there's much more to learn."

I swallowed, looking away. "Why did you call me here, Michael?"

He didn't say anything right away. Instead, he got to his feet, wandering to the other side of the desk until he was immediately beside me. I could feel his body hovering, his eyes steadfast on my face as he leaned down, his hand resting on the back of my chair.

"You look tense," he said low and husky, his voice almost a whisper. "Relax, Emily. I'm not going to hurt you.

His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from my face, and I froze. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. The way he was looking at me... it wasn't cold or detached. It was something else, something that I couldn't place but that sent a shiver running down my spine.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered, the words barely audible.

Because I can," he said, his voice flat, his hand not moving from my shoulder. "You're mine, remember?"

His words swirled in my head, and instantly the wave of defiance rose in my chest. I didn't want to be here, didn't want to be included in whatever sick game he was playing, but as he leaned in closer, his eyes never off mine, my resolve began to crumble.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Emily," he whispered, his lips so close to my ear it made my pulse run wildly. "I could make this... nice for both of us."

I swallowed and heard the wild beating of my heart. "Is this... is this why you brought me here? To-to mess with me?"

He laughed, a low and gentle sound as his hand eased lower in my arm. "I'm giving you a choice. You can fight this... or you can give in.

The room was too small, too hot. Trapped, cornered, and yet. a part of me could not deny the pull-the strange thrill-of defying him, of resisting even as he tried to bend me to his will. But I couldn't let myself fall for it. Not now, not ever.

"No," I whispered, pushing myself back, my voice stronger than I felt. "I don't want this.

He didn't move, his eyes clouding just a fraction. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, positive," I replied, my voice clear.

A flash of anger danced across his face and I could sense his jaw stiffening. "Fine," he said, cold, stepping backward. "If that's the way you want it."

I took advantage of it, heaving myself out of the chair and taking a step back, my heart racing. "I-I'm going."

He didn't try to stop me. Instead, he watched me, his arms crossed, as I back-stepped toward the door, his expression unreadable. His eyes on me were a silent reminder that I was still under his control, that I was still bound by his rules. But for now, at least, I'd managed to escape.

I turned and hastened out of the office, my steps reverberating down the deserted hallway as I made my way to my room. Inside, I closed the door and leaned against it, my breath coming in short gasps as I tried to catch my breath.

I'd stood up to him. I'd defied him. But I knew it wasn't over. Not by a long shot. Not with Michael.

And somehow, that became even scarier than anything else.