Page 36 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

The bathroom door flies open before I can gather my thoughts. I glance up, feeling like a deer in headlights as I make eye contact with my boss.

Uh oh. I’m in deep shit.

11

OPHELIA

“What might you be doing in here, Miss Bennet?” asks Salvatore, arching his brow.

“I was…” I gulp, digging deep in my brain for an explanation as to why I’m in the male restroom when I’m meant to be sorting through schedules.

“I thought you were extremely busy this morning,” he adds, staring at me intently.

“The female restroom was… out of order.”

Digging a deeper hole here, Phee.

“The cleaner must have removed the sign while you were in here,” he says, playing along with my lies.

I slip the polaroid back into the folder—like that makes a world of difference.

“Who told you to come in here?” says Mr. Moretti, stepping closer.

“N-nobody,” I stutter, but that begs the question—are other people here investigating the Crows?

Mr. Moretti pins me a glare and reaches over me, taking the folder back. He clamps it under his arm, his gaze never leaving mine. “What game are you playing, Miss Bennett? Please speak freely.”

“I don’t enjoy games.”

“But you do enjoy snooping around when I’m out of the building.” His electrifying eyes send me up in flames as he glances down at me like I’m prey, something small that can be devoured in one mouthful.

Sapphire was right—this man is incredibly dangerous, but my body enjoys the thrill. The thought of being punished, of being made to feel small in the presence of a king, has my pussy burning with an ineradicable need to be controlled. To be put in my place—right at the very bottom of the food chain.

I work as an executive assistant, but who am I kidding? Men have never seen me as anything important. My own father fucked off while I was still in the womb.

You can base your worth on your career for a time, but nothing ever changes. Even if I ran my own business and was at the very top of the corporate ladder, I would still be the runt of the litter, the unwanted one in the group.

Mr. Moretti looking down at me, seeing me as his next meal, makes me feel wanted, because even though I have been caught, I’m still being noticed.

I frown, noting his tense jaw. “What’s the big deal here? I found a folder in the bathroom stall. Someone probably misplaced it,” I state.

Something has to be running in the background. The tense look written across my boss’s face proves that he’s lying about something, keeping cards very fucking close to his chest, so close that he refused to remove his shirt the last time we fucked.

I swallow my next question, afraid I might be out of a job for real this time if I ask about the Crows. I have to stay employed under this man so I can learn about his secrets, but I’m pretty sure I have just ruined this for myself.

I wince, biting my lip. “Is this the part where you fire me?”

Mr. Moretti angles his head to the side, shadows curling over his face as he stands under the light, looking more like a monster than a man.

I stare into the depths of his green eyes, curious to know what this guy has seen. Building an empire takes work. Nothing good ever comes easy. Working for the Crows must have been torture. I’m sure Salvatore has seen unimaginable things, gone through hell and back several times, like a modern-day Odysseus.

The more I stare into his eyes, the more I become intrigued with Salvatore as a person as opposed to the Crows as a whole.

“Why did you break that man’s nose?” I ask. “What did he do?”

Salvatore chuckles, shaking his head. “You think I punched him?”

“You didn’t?”