Viola's POV
The Copper Mug was loud, warm, and blessedly anonymous. The heavy oak table felt real beneath my hands, and the cheap cider tasted like freedom. I watched Angela laugh with Marcus, a paralegal with kind eyes and a genuinely charming smile, while Trevor, Marcus's friend, sat across from me. Trevor was attractive—clean-cut, with thick brown hair and a quiet, easy manner that was the polar opposite of Kyle Lodge's sharp intensity.
I wasn't drinking much, but I was talking. And more importantly, I was laughing.
"It's about ensuring Mr. Lodge remains on-brand," I had just told them, taking a jab at my psychotic boss. I watched Trevor's eyes light up with amusement as I described my job as making sure "the sociopath sounds like a gentleman."
It felt good to vent, to treat my life-or-death crisis as dark office humor. Here, I wasn't the Head of Editorial Integrity or a captive asset…I was just Viola, an ambitious professional with a truly terrible boss.
"Wait, so he has you inspecting sake shipments to avoid customs blocks, but then you're running background checks on his business rivals?" Trevor asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.
"In the same hour," I confirmed, setting down my glass. "He's testing me. He throws me into chaos to see if I panic or perform."
The bar started to thin out around 10:00 PM. We stood outside, enjoying the cool Wednesday night air. Angela and Marcus were engaged in a lively debate about public transit, giving Trevor and I a moment alone.
Trevor turned to me, his hands shoved casually in his pockets. "You're genuinely fascinating, Viola. And way too stressed out for a Wednesday."
"That's just the 'Head of Editorial Integrity' glow," I joked.
He smiled, and it was a warm, genuine smile that reached his eyes—the kind Kyle Lodge would have to write out on a cue card.
"Look, I know your boss is a lunatic, and your life sounds exhausting," Trevor said gently. "But if you ever decide you need to unplug from the world of fictional devotion, I'd like to take you out. For a proper, non-work date. No shop talk allowed."
He paused. "I'm free this Friday night. There's a small Italian place downtown that makes amazing pasta. What do you say?"
My heart gave a little skip. Trevor was smart, sweet, and genuinely attractive. He represented everything Kyle Lodge was not: safe, honest, and normal. It was a desperately needed lifeline.
"I say yes," I replied, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. "I'd love to go out with you, Trevor. But no mention of sake or compliance. Deal?"
"Deal," he confirmed, his smile widening. "It's a date. I'll text you the details tomorrow."
I left the bar that night feeling a sliver of hope. I had a date. I had a life outside of Lodge's gilded cage.
I woke up Thursday morning feeling surprisingly light. My office was a futuristic fortress, I was making strides against Lodge's rivals, and I had a date with a handsome, normal man on Friday. The combination was invigorating.
My routine was the same—armor on, coffee ready. I consciously avoided thinking about Kyle Lodge, treating his inevitable arrival as a scheduled inconvenience. I needed to focus on the work, and the work was Larsen Acquisitions.
When the inevitable black SUV pulled up at 8:00 AM, I met it with a quiet confidence that came from knowing I had something he didn't: a life he couldn't control.
Kyle's POV
I stared at the screen, but the words wouldn't come. My custom writing software remained blank. My eyes kept darting to the corporate log, which confirmed Viola was indeed at a bar with two men named Trevor and Marcus last night.
She laughed. The audio recording of her laughter, genuine and free, replayed in my mind. She had never laughed like that with me. With me, she was hostile, and utterly focused. With Trevor, she was simply happy.
Jealousy.
The emotion hit me with the blunt force of a physical blow. It was messy, illogical, and entirely counterproductive. It was the antithesis of the controlled persona I had built my life and my empire upon.
~The hero felt a sharp, cold spike of anger. It wasn't the fear of losing control that drove him; it was the sheer, selfish realisation that she could give her most precious resource…her genuine amusement…to someone else.~
I typed out the paragraph, recognising the uncomfortable truth. I didn't want her compliance…I wanted her focus. Her attention was the currency I craved. I had provided her with a three-hundred-thousand-dollar office, and she rewarded me by sharing her laughter with a paralegal named…fucking …Trevor. It was an insult of the highest order.
I finished my coffee and slammed the mug onto the desk. The work could wait. The problem was no longer Larsen Acquisitions… it was my beautiful unscripted obsession with her life outside of my orbit. I needed to remind her where her focus belonged.
I called Marshall. "Tell the driver to bring the SUV around. And Marshall, book a table for two at The Belvedere for tomorrow night. I need to override an existing engagement on Viola's schedule."
I knew exactly what I was doing. I was staking my claim.
The SUV was silent and climate-controlled. I had the Larsen Acquisitions files open, but I didn't look at them. I was too busy watching the curb of her building.
At 8:00 AM, she emerged. She looked crisp, beautiful, and alarmingly cheerful. She didn't look like a woman who was constantly plotting the downfall of her boss…she looked like a woman with plans. Trevor plans.
The driver stepped out and opened the door for her.
"Good morning, Mr. Lodge," she said, sliding into the backseat, her voice cool and professional. "I've finalised the Tokyo meeting security protocols."
"Excellent, Vi," I replied, closing the file. "But we have a more pressing matter. Larsen Acquisitions has accelerated their timeline, and we need to be proactive."
I leaned in, meeting her gaze with an intensity that I hoped would wipe the memory of Trevor's polite smile from her mind.
"We need a final, strategic dinner meeting tomorrow night to plan the counter-strike. I've secured us a table at The Belvedere."
Her expression remained perfectly neutral, but I saw the subtle tightening around her jaw. She knew what I was doing.
"Tomorrow is Friday, Mr. Lodge," she stated, her voice calm. "I have a personal engagement scheduled."
"Cancel it," I ordered, my voice leaving no room for argument. "This is not optional, Vi. This is a five-hundred-million-dollar emergency that only your sharp mind can manage. And besides, I need to ensure you're not sharing classified information about my asset protection strategy with any... unvetted individuals."
I paused, letting the implication sink in. I knew about Trevor.
"Tell your friend Angela to reschedule your outing. You belong in my office, Vi. Especially when there is a war to be won."
I watched the color rise in her cheeks. The cheerful composure of the morning finally shattered, replaced by the familiar fire I craved.
"Understood, Mr. Lodge," she spat out, her voice barely a whisper. "I will cancel my personal engagement. Just tell me what time I need to be ready for your mandatory supervision."
"7:00 PM," I said, a slow, predatory smile returning to my lips. "And Vi, wear a black dress. It suits the color of your ambition."