The shrill ring of my phone broke through the soft hum of my fan, dragging me out of the fog of restless dreams. My eyes were half-closed, lashes heavy, when I swiped across the screen.
"Good morning, baby," came a low, warm voice, thick with sleep but playful enough to make my lips twitch into a smile.
Zion.
It had been years since I heard that exact tone from him, yet somehow, it felt like yesterday.
I pulled the covers tighter around me, even though the room wasn't cold. "Don't call me baby," I muttered, trying to sound stern but failing miserably when a laugh slipped out of me.
"You used to love it," he teased, his chuckle rumbling against my ear as if he were right beside me.
"That was high school," I said, rolling over on my side, staring at the ceiling. "We were children then."
"And now you're a big, serious woman with deadlines and stress." His voice dipped mock-serious. "Still, you'll always be a baby to me."
I pressed a hand against my cheek to hide the smile I knew he couldn't see. My chest tightened,a familiar, dangerous warmth rising inside me. I cleared my throat quickly. "I have work. I need to get ready."
"I'll take you," he offered immediately, like it was the most natural thing.
My brows rose. "You don't even know where I work."
"Then it's about time I found out. Besides, you shouldn't go in all serious without breakfast. Let me be useful for once."
"Zion..."
"Don't argue. I'll be outside in twenty."
He hung up before I could protest further, leaving me staring at my screen like a fool.
I exhaled, shaking my head, and pushed myself out of bed.
If he was really going to take me to work, then I had to look good. Not just good, exceptional, professional, clean, unshakable.
I picked out a soft cream blouse that hugged my shape without being too much, tucked into a navy pencil skirt that clung dangerously close to my hips. My heels clicked against the floor as I moved, confidence already rising. A swipe of nude lipstick, a subtle shimmer on my eyelids, and finally two spritzes of my favorite perfume, warm vanilla and sandalwood filling the air.
Perfect.
I grabbed my phone to check his last text, heart skipping when I saw the simple "On my way ❤️."
That was when the knock came.
I grinned without thinking, already imagining Zion leaning against my doorframe with that crooked smile of his. I rushed over and pulled the door open.
But it wasn't Zion.
It was Marcus.
He stood there in a black t-shirt that stretched over his chest, his jaw tight, eyes stormy and unreadable. My smile died instantly, replaced with the sting of unwelcome tension in my veins.
"What do you want?" I asked flatly, clutching the doorframe.
He looked me over slowly, too slowly, his gaze dragging down from my face to the skirt hugging my curves. His jaw ticked. "You're dressed up."
"No kidding. People usually wear clothes to work."
His eyes narrowed at my tone. "I came to talk."
"About what? Another lecture on how I behave like a slut? Because I don't have the time."
His lips parted, anger flashing in his eyes, but I didn't stop. I was tired. Exhausted from crying over him, over his careless words.
"You know what your problem is, Marcus?" I said, my voice sharp enough to cut. "You want to own me but you don't want to claim me. You want me to bend around your moods, your pride, your rules but you can't even be decent enough to admit you want me."
His nostrils flared, chest heaving. "Don't put words in my mouth."
"No," I shot back. "You don't need words. Your actions scream it loud enough. But guess what? I'm done letting you play me like I'm some fragile little doll you can break whenever you feel like it, moreover nothing was defined I just set myself up for disappointment and you delivered"
He stepped closer, fists curling. "You think that rich boy waiting outside is going to treat you better? You think he knows you like I do? He'll get bored, Sharon. They always do."
I tilted my chin up, unflinching. "And you think I'd rather waste myself on a man who can't decide if he wants me or wants to ruin me?"
That one hit. I saw it in the flicker in his eyes, the way his throat bobbed as if the words lodged deep in his pride.
Before he could respond, a sharp horn blared outside.
Zion.
I didn't give Marcus another glance. I stepped out, brushing past him as if he were nothing more than a shadow in my doorway. My heels clicked against the pavement until I reached Zion's sleek black car.
He leaned out the window, bright smile lighting up his face. "Baby!"
I didn't hesitate...I went straight to him, sliding into his arms as he stepped out. His embrace was warm, familiar, safe, and when he pressed a quick kiss to the side of my head, my chest clenched painfully in relief.
Behind me, I could feel Marcus's stare burning holes into my back. But I didn't turn. I let Zion guide me into the car, his hand resting lightly against the small of my back.
"Let's get you fed," Zion said cheerfully, completely oblivious to the war raging only a few feet away.
And just like that, I left Marcus standing there, swallowed by his silence.
---
Zion insisted we stop for coffee and sandwiches despite my protests. "You'll thank me when you're not fainting over spreadsheets," he said, sliding the bag into my lap with a grin.
"You act like I'm weak."
"You act like you don't deserve to be taken care of," he countered softly, eyes on the road.
The words made my stomach flutter. I looked away quickly, chewing on my lip.
---
By the time we pulled into the company's lot, I felt lighter, almost floating from the banter, the laughter, the ridiculous way he teased me about still biting my straw when I drank iced coffee.
But the moment I stepped into the office, everything froze.
The air was tense, sharp enough to slice through my good mood. Maxie's wide eyes met mine across the room, her hand twitching as if she wanted to signal something. Joel, too, shifted uncomfortably, his face screaming warning.
My gaze slid past them to the center of the office.
Diana. Mr. Kade. And one more man in a perfectly tailored suit.
His back was to me, broad and commanding, dark hair catching the light. I didn't need to see his face to know.
Aec.
My chest tightened.
As if sensing me, he scoffed, turning slowly. His sharp gaze landed on me like a blade, running over my form, pausing at the coffee cup and sandwich bag in my hand.
"You're late," he said coolly, lips curling into a smirk. "And apparently, you had time to stop for snacks. Very professional. Diana, perhaps you should reconsider keeping workers who clearly don't take this business seriously."
Diana flushed, shifting nervously.
I rolled my eyes, heat rising in my cheeks. "Sorry. It won't happen again," I muttered, forcing my voice steady as I walked quickly to my desk.
Aec hummed low in his throat, clearly satisfied with the sting of his words, and turned back to Diana.
She continued, her voice steady but tight. "As I was saying, we'll have Joel coordinate closely with you on the project moving forward."
Aec didn't even let her finish before he raised a hand. "No."
And everywhere went dead silent
His gaze slid back to me, slow, deliberate, cruel in its calmness.
"I want Sharon."
The words dropped into the room like thunder. Maxie gasped softly while Joel stiffened, his jaw tightening. Diana blinked rapidly, clearly caught off guard.
Me? My stomach sank. My pulse roared in my ears.
Aec's smirk deepened. "I want Sharon as my temporary assistant until this deal is finished."
The room spun, and the weight of everyone's stares pressing into me, pinning me to my seat.
And all I could think was...why me?
Why me again?