Page 20 of Forbidden Billionaire
“Someone you know will be essential to your business.” I don’t back down. “Your show of good will and to seal the deal.”
He exhales hard in a way that shoots a shiver down my spine. “Our negotiation is complete. A driver will meet you downstairs in five minutes.”
“Driver?” I frown. “For what?”
“To take you to Rêve de Mode.”
My jaw drops. I’ve been in the exclusive River Oaks boutique once, for a trunk show highlighting a holiday collection. Even when I was making good money, I couldn’t afford to do anything but look and sip the owner’s expensive champagne while munching on the exquisite foods. I wouldn’t have even gone if Lila hadn’t dragged me there, insisting it would be fun.
There’s no doubt that a month’s wardrobe from the shop will cost more than a down payment on a house. A nice house. I shake my head. This man is out of his mind. “First of all, those kinds of places don’t open this early. And secondly, I have my own car.”
“It’ll be open.” His tone is steel, like he bends the world to his will. Of course he does.
Terrified of my reactions more than him, I head for the door.
“Where are you going?”
His tone freezes me, and I glance back at him. “To clean the rooms that are on my assignment list.”
“You misunderstand. As of right now, you belong to me, Seraphina.” He locks his gaze on me. “In my world, you play by my rules.”
“Just as soon as I receive the contract guaranteeing all the things we agreed to.”
“Ms. Hollis.” It’s a growl, a warning, his eyes blazing as he takes a step toward me.
“Ball is in your court, Mr. Black—” I catch myself, heat rising. Calling him Blackheart had led to big trouble. Once I clear my throat, I try again. “Mr. Blackwell. How bad do you want me?”
Chapter Five
Xavier
“Mr. Blackwell. Uhm.” My lead attorney clears his throat. Not the first time he’s been at a loss for words. “I have to say your request is highly unusual.”
The elevator glides up the spine of my building, smooth as silk, but my heart is a damn hammer behind my ribs. Hargrove’s slightly edgy voice scratches in my ear.
I’d expected the call when I sent over the order to write Seraphina’s contract.
“The HR team received your request, and it was passed along to me. I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that her demands are, well, unprecedented for someone acting in the role of an assistant.”
That’s actually bullshit, despite the way I’d reacted to her this morning. A good executive assistant is worth everything Seraphina asked for, and more. And she’s going to be damn good.
Annoyed, I shift my grip on the phone, my thumb tapping against the brushed steel panel. “Unprecedented?” My voice comes out low, calm. The kind of calm that makes grown men sweat.
“Yes, sir,” Hargrove stammers. “Eighty thousand, immediate full benefits, a six-month severance clause, clothing allowance, car, travel allowance, a credit card? For a”—he clears his throat again before proceeding cautiously—“person you previously employed.”
My jaw flexes. As if I needed to be reminded of that detail.
“She’s listed as ineligible for rehire, Mr. Blackwell.”
“Change it.”
“But, sir?—”
“Seraphina Hollis will not just be an assistant.” I’m half hard just from saying her name. Goddamn her for that. “She’s going to be the reason we’ll claw past this Lockhart mess with our bones intact. She’s an asset. A weapon.”
Hargrove sighs, probably wishing he’d gone into medicine instead of law. “Of course, Mr. Blackwell. And, ah. No touching?”
I expected pushback on that. “Unless she asks.”
