HARPER
I looked up quickly, straight into deep, ocean-blue, smoldering eyes. Dominic Fletcher. My throat went dry, and I swallowed hard while I tried to take him in.
He carried the well-known Fletcher look — the piercing blue eyes, angular face, defined cheekbones and strong jawline, and Christ, the midnight-black hair now streaked with gray.
But that's where the resemblance ended. His nose was proud and aquiline, nothing like the straight ones the rest of the Fletchers inherited. His lips were full, perfectly balanced against his sharp features. And his eyes—god, those eyes—were staring down at me now, stirring a strange heat low in my body.
Sweet mercy. Dominic Fletcher was smoking hot. Masculine. Domineering. Sinfully unforgettable. How the hell had I never realized this before?
I sat on the ground, forgetting the fact that I was being humiliated, while I ogled the perfection of a specimen in front of me.
"What do you want?" Owen's rude voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I gazed up at him in time to see a sneer on his face.
"I asked you a question, nephew," Dominic said in a calm voice.
"The way I correct my employees has nothing to do with you. She works under me, and she did something wrong. I am within my rights to punish her." Owen grunted.
"Of course, you are," Dominic agreed, his palms facing skyward.
They were large, calloused and I could still feel it pressed into my back while his lips did the work. I grimaced as the pressure in between my legs continued to build, pulling his jacket around me tighter. However, that didn't help my case, as it made me feel even more needy.
"But," Dominic continued, tucking his hands into his pants. A noticeable bulge formed between his legs, and I heard a soft chuckle.
I lifted my eyes to him. Did he catch me checking him out? Oh well, dang it! My face felt warm, and I allowed my eyes to dart around, looking anywhere but at him. It was embarrassing getting caught in the act.
Further, I couldn't tell what on earth was happening to me and why I was acting like a sex-deprived woman!
I slapped myself mentally. Today is Monday, Harper. You're always a professional on days like this. Stop fucking fantasising about your ex's very hot, and forbidden uncle in his freaking presence!
And even if you want to look, don't get caught!
Was that even reasonable advice? Perhaps if you were in my shoes, you'd understand my predicament.
"Reprimanding her in private would be best rather than a public humiliation. Don't you think so?" He pressed, lifting a brow.
Owen bristled, and his jaw tightened. But said nothing.
"Come on," He extended his hand to me, but I refused it and tried to stand on my own.
"I don't have all the patience in the world for your nonsense, Harper," he snapped, pulling me off the ground forcefully. Then, he began to drag me into the building.
It was when I was inside that I only recalled that I hadn't thanked Dominic Fletcher properly for saving me last night and even today. And that was because of Owen.
"You'll break my ankles, Owen!" I said, my ankle awkwardly bent in the damned four inches I wore.
Owen's eyes narrowed, staring down at my feet, before raising his eyes to meet mine. "Is it my fault you chose to wear that to the office?"
"No, but,"
"Save it," he cut me off, pushing me into his office.
Owen stepped in, his eyes cold, and his lips twisted down in disgust. "Did my uncle coming to save you turn you on?"
"W–what are you talking about?" I questioned, rubbing my wrist. A purple bruise had begun to form on it from being handled too roughly by Owen.
"You were eyeing him and don't even fucking try to deny it. I saw you!" He snarled.
Owen drove his fingers through his hair, and he yanked in frustration. He paced the room, then stopped and kicked the leg of his desk, wincing in pain. He shot me a look, and I shrugged. I only pitied the pen that rolled down from the desk, clattering to the floor. I wished I could cradle it and say sorry to it.
"I don't get it, Harper. Why him? Why not anyone else? Did he offer to give you something?"
I bit my lower lip, saying nothing. That aggravated Owen. He slapped his palm on his desk, causing me to flinch in response. Then, I saw some of the files fly onto the floor and I made my way to pick them up, but he held his hand out, stopping me.
"My uncle, even though I'm ashamed to admit that, is pretty useless. Kissing and fucking him won't take you anywhere, and if he promised you something—"
I folded my arms across my chest, holding his eyes. "Why are you so concerned about my kiss with your uncle? Does it hurt your ego that I'm not running after you to beg you to come back to me?"
"You little slut…!"
"You can be with my sister after betraying me, and I can't do the same to you? Isn't that a double standard, Owen? Or do you not care about how you broke me at that party, disgracing me in the presence of everyone?" My voice shook, but I didn't stop talking.
"Why did you lead me on all those years? Did your taste change so drastically that you realised you weren't supposed to be with the poor illegitimate plain daughter of the Wilson and decided to hop onto the legitimate one instead?"
Yes. He had called me a placeholder. But I wasn't taking that as a reason. "What happened to our dreams, Owen?"
The tech company I had imagined we'd build together from scratch without involving any of our parents. I had thoughts of having three kids. Two little boys like him and maybe a little girl like me, and we'd live in a house with a white picket fence.
Could all that have vanished overnight without good reasons? No. I refused to accept that.
"Oh, please. Stop acting important. You should be grateful people even know you through me, because who'd be interested in a doormat anyway? And to your question, it has always been Camilla all along, Harper. You were so easy to deceive, and I used you in getting close to the one I truly wanted…"
"Yes, baby. And she's so gullible to fall into the trap and a stupid, lovesick idiot." Camilla said, stepping inside.