Chapter Ten
Malachi's POV
"These past few years have been so dark without you in it."
Grandfather's voice echoed in my skull long after I'd left his office. He'd used the same tone when he told me my mother had abandoned us. When he explained why she did.
"I know things have been hard for you, Malachi. You've had such a hard life."
Hard. Such a sanitary word for what I'd endured. What I'd become.
He'd sighed then, and I'd counted the seconds. Three. Always three before he moved to business.
"But I'm glad you're back now to take over the company." The smile that accompanied those words didn't reach his eyes. It never did.
"Don't be mistaken." I'd kept my voice flat, emotionless. The way he'd taught me. "I'm only going to be there until Travis can continue."
Travis could choke on his little empire for all I cared. I had other priorities now. Softer priorities with trembling hands and defiant eyes.
"Yes, yes. Well, I wouldn't like to keep you prisoner in my company." He'd waved his hand in dismissal, the gesture of a king bored with his court. "You can leave now."
He wasn't making me CEO out of love or trust. Grandfather didn't traffic in those currencies. No, he was moving pieces on a board I couldn't fully see yet. The old man never made hurried decisions unless he was three moves ahead.
I'd figure out his game eventually. I always did.
Back in my room, the silence wrapped around me like a second skin.
The flat-screen mounted on the wall wasn't for entertainment. It was divided into a grid of sixteen feeds—every hallway, every blind corner, every locked door inside Blackwood Manor.
Knowledge was control. Control was survival.
My gaze swept across the feeds until it snagged on camera twelve. Guest wing, second floor.
Alicia lay on her bed, perfectly still except for the rise and fall of her chest. Her dark hair spread across the white pillow. One arm draped over her stomach, the other bent at the elbow, hand near her face like she might bite her nails if she let herself.
She was staring at the ceiling. Not reading. Not scrolling through her phone. Just… thinking.
About what? About who?
The corner of my mouth lifted.
About me, if the way she'd looked at me in the dining room was any indication. The way her pupils had dilated when I'd leaned close. The way her breath had hitched when I'd whispered her name.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Maurice.
He answered on the second ring. "Boss."
"Send Alicia's number."
"Already?"
"Did I stutter?"
"No, sir. Sending now."
The line went dead. Two minutes later, her contact information appeared on my screen. I saved it under a single initial: A.
Then I started typing.
You're a terrible liar.
I watched her on the monitor. She didn't move for five seconds. Then she sat up abruptly, reaching for her phone on the nightstand.
Alicia: Who is this?
My smile widened. I could see her fingers hovering over the screen, hesitating.
The way your hands trembled when you poured his tea. You think no one noticed?
On camera twelve, she stood from the bed and began pacing. Three steps to the window. Turn. Three steps back. Her free hand pressed against her mouth.
Alicia: …
Alicia: Who are you?
I pushed off from my desk and headed for the door. The hallway stretched before me. Everyone else was either asleep or handling business. I preferred the manor like this.
You know. You've been thinking about me since you left that room.
I took the north corridor, past the portraits of dead Blackwoods who'd built this empire on blood and lies. My footsteps made no sound. Another thing Grandfather had taught me: how to move like a ghost through your own home.
Alicia: Stop.
I stopped walking. Leaned against the wall directly across from her door.
Say my name and I will.
On my phone screen, I pulled up the camera feed. She was standing in the middle of her room now, phone clutched in both hands. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She was breathing hard, either from fear or something else.
I watched her type. Delete. Type again.
Alicia: Malachi.
Fuck. The way my name looked in her messages did something to me. Something dark and possessive that I should probably examine but wouldn't.
Good girl.
I saw her reaction on the feed—the way she closed her eyes, the way her throat worked as she swallowed.
Open the door.
She didn't move for a long moment. I could see the war happening behind her eyes even through the footage. Safety versus curiosity—or whatever she felt for me.
Curiosity won.
The door creaked open, and she peered out, scanning the hallway until her eyes landed on me. Even in the low light, I could see the accusation in her gaze.
"Took you long enough." I pushed off the wall but didn't approach. Not yet.
She stepped into the doorway fully, her arms folded. The defensive posture would've been more convincing if her pulse wasn't hammering visibly at the base of her throat. "What do you want?"
You. Underneath me. Over me. Against the wall. On your knees. In every possible way until you forget what it felt like to not be mine.
I swallowed the words and settled for a safer alternative. "What do I want?" I tilted my head, studying her. "Are you willing to give yourself, Alicia?"
Her eyes went wide. Her head snapped to the side, checking for witnesses in the empty hallway.
The fear in that gesture made me laugh. "What? You're scared?"
I'd never seen her scared before. She was always so composed, so controlled. Watching that mask crack was intoxicating.
"What do you want, Malachi?" The question came out harder this time, irritation bleeding through. Fine lines graced her forehead.
I wanted to smooth them with my thumb. Trace the furrow of her brow with my lips. Kiss away every worry until the only thing in her head was me.
Instead, I straightened and took two steps closer. Her eyes tracked every inch of movement.
"We're going to be in the same workspace soon." I kept my voice conversational, like I was discussing the weather. "Just thought I should inform you."
"What do you mean?" Confusion replaced the anger on her face.
I closed the remaining distance between us until I stood directly in front of her. She had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. The height difference pleased something in me.
"Travis is…" I paused, watching her hang on my words. "Unconscious. So I'm taking over. Temporarily, of course."
I could see her mind working, trying to process the implications. Her lips parted slightly.
"Which means," I leaned in until my breath ghosted across her cheek, "you'll be seeing a lot more of me. No more running. Not at work." My gaze dropped to her mouth. "Not here."
She'd gone perfectly still. I could count her heartbeats in the frantic pulse at her throat.
"Umm… hello." I snapped my fingers once, gently, near her face. "Stay with me."
She blinked rapidly, color flooding her cheeks as she looked away. "Uh… sorry."
The blush deepened. Beautiful.
I leaned in one more time, my lips nearly brushing her ear. "Now you won't be able to run from me, Alicia. And we both know…" I let my thumb graze her jaw, "...you don't really want to."
I released her and stepped back before she could respond. Before I could do something we'd both regret. Or maybe something only she would regret.
"See you at work," I said, already turning away. But I guess she didn't hear me.
Back in my room, I pulled up camera twelve one more time. She was still standing in her doorway, staring down the empty hallway where I'd been.
She touched her jaw where my fingers had been. The gesture was unconscious.
Then she went back inside and closed the door.
But she didn't lock it.
Interesting.
My ringing phone stole my attention from the screen. I frowned. It was Maurice calling.
"Sir, Travis is awake."
My eyes darkened.