nthony Morgan is the last man I should ever work for.

Too bad I don’t have a choice.

It started with an email from Jennifer Gonzales.

It ended with me walking into a boardroom face-to-face with the man who wants to protect her.

The same man who looks at me like I’m a threat to everything he built. And maybe I am.

He’s cold. Controlled.

Italian billionaire in an Armani suit, hiding bruises behind bank accounts.

He thinks I’m still loyal to my former best friend—the woman who broke his brother’s heart and stole something she should’ve never touched.

But I’m not here for Belle. I’m here to do a job.

Security. Protection. No distractions.

Except Anthony Morgan is a distraction. His eyes strip me bare.

His voice is a seduction I never saw coming. And every time we fight, it feels like foreplay. Getting too close to him is a mistake.

Falling for him? Dangerous.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from war zones and heartbreak…

It’s that the most forbidden fire burns the hottest.

And Anthony Morgan is pure flame.

Stepping into the lion’s den was supposed to be a metaphor, but the reality hit me like a freight train as I crossed the threshold into the Morgan boardroom. The sharp echo of my heels against the stark, polished marble floor sounded like a countdown, each click amplifying the tension that hung in the air. The room was coldly immaculate, a showcase of the Morgan empire’s power and wealth, yet nothing could compare to the chill radiating from Anthony Morgan’s gaze. His icy stare halted me in my tracks, a force so intense it left me breathless and disoriented. I could almost feel the temperature drop as he scrutinized me, an intruder daring to invade his territory.

I had anticipated this meeting would be challenging. I’d run through every possible scenario in my mind, envisioning resolutions ranging from a simple dismissal to an outright ejection. But facing Anthony’s wrathful glare, I realized how woefully unprepared I truly was for the raw hostility emanating from him. His anger was palpable, a heatwave of intensity that made me question my sanity for even stepping foot in this place. The man I’d never met until today looked ready to hurl me out the window—or worse.

I should have backed out. I’d sensed the mistake the moment his assistant sent the email. But the Morgans were titans, their influence sprawling across the globe. Their business meant success, and failure had never been an option for me. So, I donned my best suit and waded into this viper pit, determined. Now, Anthony’s glacial eyes challenged me to speak first. I envisioned all the ways this could end badly: defenestration, a cement bath, or worse yet, sleeping with the fishes like in those old mobster flicks. Sure, I was being dramatic, but those eyes could freeze lava. I couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly at the thought of Anthony Morgan’s glare being so potent it could freeze a cup of coffee in seconds. If he ever tried bartending, his signature drink would undoubtedly be the “Frostbite Frappuccino,” guaranteed to give customers brain freeze and a shiver down their spine.

Despite the icy atmosphere, I extended my hand and mustered my best smile. “Mr. Morgan, I’m Em Fletcher.”

The air in the room felt thick, almost oppressive, as I stepped inside. The polished mahogany table gleamed under the soft light, reflecting the tension that hung like a shadow between us. Anthony Morgan sat there, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, a fortress of muscle and indifference. I could almost hear the gears grinding in his mind as he assessed me, sizing me up like a prizefighter before the bell rang.

I couldn’t shake off the mental image of Anthony Morgan attempting to crack a smile. It seemed as likely as a penguin doing stand-up comedy, entertaining, yet highly improbable. Did he ever crack a smile? It would probably cause a solar eclipse from the sheer rarity of the occasion.

“Em Fletcher,” I said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I’m here for the meeting.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to decipher a riddle wrapped in an enigma. The silence stretched between us, thickening with each passing second. I could feel the weight of my past choices pressing down on me and my history with Belle and the Morgans, the loyalty I had once sworn to her.

Who knew that facing down one of the most powerful figures in the business world could also feel like being trapped in an episode of “The Office,” complete with awkward silences and exaggerated expressions?

And as Anthony Morgan finally broke his silence, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, underneath that stoic exterior lurked a secret love for dad jokes or a hidden talent for juggling stress balls. After all, stranger things had happened in the sandbox.

“Right.” His voice was low and smooth, with an accent that hinted at his Italian roots. “You’re here because mio fratello thinks you can help us.”

Mr. Monopoly and his entire Moneybags family probably wanted to lock me away and torture me for information on my former friend I’d not seen or heard from in months since her divorce. And honestly I wasn’t sure what I’d say to her anyhow if she showed up at my door. Her stealing the embryos that belonged to someone else should feel criminal to anyone, anytime.

Now I glanced at the newest to meet me and wondered if Italian richling was trying on purpose to look like the Grim Reaper because honestly he could be cute under that frown.

“Help you?” I echoed, trying to keep my tone light despite the gravity of the situation. “With what exactly?”

He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Security,” he said bluntly. “We’ve had some… incidents lately.”

His words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in an expectation. A feeling stirred within me, something akin to anticipation. I was about to tread on dangerous territory, a journey I had not anticipated when I woke up this morning and sipped my lukewarm coffee.

Interesting,” I said, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep the conversation from becoming too heavy. “And what type of incidents are we talking about?”

A flicker of something passed through Anthony’s eyes – annoyance or amusement, I couldn’t tell which. It fascinated me how this man held an arsenal of emotions so deeply hidden within the fortress of his persona.

“Various things,” he replied cryptically, folding his hands atop the gleaming mahogany. He seemed to contemplate on whether to trust me with more information or not.

“You know,” I ventured cautiously, “we could play the guessing game all day, but unfortunately, my schedule calls for more than an enigmatic billionaire’s riddles.”

He grunted at that, a sound somewhere between discomfort and reluctant laughter. For a moment, there it was again, that flicker of humanity. The Grim Reaper had teeth after all. Perhaps they weren’t all as sharp as they seemed.

“Let’s cut to the chase then,” He finally agreed. His gaze was unflinching as he delved into the events that had emerged recently within his empire. Break-ins at numerous office locations around the world, data breaches leading to significant information leakages; all pointing towards internal sabotage.

As he spoke, surprise superseded my initial apprehension – replacing it with a surge of adrenaline and intrigue. This was not just any security issue. This was personal to him in some way. Suddenly, his icy glare and stoic exterior made sense in ways they hadn’t before.

In some strange way, this realization made him seem more…human? Perhaps less Monopoly tycoon and more a man under immense pressure, looking for answers in whatever allies he could find. Or maybe I was thinking too much into it.

“I’m aware of your firm’s reputation,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “But what makes you think you’re qualified for this kind of work? You were Belle’s bridesmaid. How do I know you’re not still loyal to her?”

Finally the truth. I inhaled sharply at the mention of Belle’s name. It was like a knife twisting in my gut, a reminder of all that had transpired between us. I had walked away from that life, but it seemed impossible to escape its shadow.

“I’m here because Jennifer Gonzales needs protection and that’s my job,” I replied firmly, meeting his gaze head-on. “I’m here because your family needs help. And whether you believe it or not, I’m good at what I do.”

He raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his handsome features. “And what can you do that my money can buy?”

The question hung in the air, almost taunting me. My past as a Marine wasn’t something I flaunted; it was part of me but also part of a life I’d tried to leave behind. Yet here we were, two people caught in a web of history and expectations.

“I provide security solutions for high-profile clients,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “I’ve worked with government agencies, private corporations and rich tycoons and oligarchs like yourself. My success rate is what got me this interview, no?”

“With them you had no emotional connections.” He gestured around the room with an air of mockery that stung more than it should have. “And that is why I’m here, to ensure you can do this job because the situation is messy and we can’t let the wrong person inside.”

“Stealing babies is a mess I don’t get myself in,” I shot back

With that, a silence entrenched the room, a battlefield of unspoken truths between us. Anthony’s gaze was piercing, as though trying to unravel the integrity beneath my words. His posture relaxed into his chair. The expensive Italian suit stretching over his broad shoulders suggested wealth and power, yet his eyes spoke volumes about uncertainty.

“I always found the morals of the poor don’t usually hold water when there is a profit to be made.” he asked softly.

I hesitated, weighing my options like stones on a scale. This wasn’t about me. It was about them, the Morgans and their need for protection against whatever threat loomed over them. “I could debate you as profits are more your people’s words but honestly how can anyone protect Miss Gonzales when your own family has restraining orders against her, you yourself were just in love with her as Peter was, before he married my friend who then turned to baby stealing. Your world is far more a mess than mine.”

“I see,” he muttered, drawing out each syllable in a methodical fashion. “You’re not like them.”

“Them?” I asked, feigning ignorance while internally acknowledging his unspoken referral to those money-chasing mercenaries with loose morals.

“The ones who’d sell their soul for the right price,” he clarified.

My retort came swift and biting. “I’ve been in war, Anthony. Seen men lay down their lives for something bigger than themselves. To you, that might seem foolish, but it gave those men something priceless. Honor.”

This time, his silence was thoughtful—I could almost hear the cogs turning in his mind. A soft sigh escaped his lips before he stood and extended his hand towards me.

“War changes a man, doesn’t it?” he asked in an understated tone.

“War,” I repeated solemnly, accepting his outstretched hand. Our handshake was firm—a mutual understanding rooted in respect instead of shared experiences. “Changes a woman too.”

“Yet you want this job?”

“My firm is the best in security,” I admitted finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “And to prove myself I’ll sit across from Italian Richling and prove my worth.”

“Richling doesn’t sound complimentary.” He studied me for a long moment before nodding slowly as if he understood more than he let on. “You think you can handle this job? Because if you take this contract, there’s no going back.”

Was I getting the job? “I’m the best at what I do. The past doesn’t matter so much as proving that I’m loyal to my clients.”

He leaned back again, arms crossing once more as if shielding himself from my resolve. “Then tell me what would your plan be?”

Good. I leaned forward slightly, feeling adrenaline surge through me at the prospect of diving into strategy and tactics, my comfort zone amidst all this uncertainty.

“First things first: assess your current security measures,” I began confidently. “Identify any gaps or weaknesses in your system, both physical and digital, and then develop an integrated approach tailored specifically for your needs.”

He nodded slowly as if weighing each word carefully while maintaining that inscrutable facade.

“And then?” he prompted after a beat.

“And then we implement those changes,” I said firmly. “Training staff on emergency protocols and ensuring everyone knows their roles during potential threats.”

“You make it sound so simple,” he remarked dryly.

“It is simple if you have the right mindset,” I replied with conviction.

Anthony regarded me thoughtfully for another moment before glancing at his watch, a subtle reminder that time was ticking away faster than either of us wanted to admit.

“I’ll discuss this with Peter,” he said finally, standing up abruptly as if signaling an end to our conversation.

“I’m here because Jennifer Gonzales emailed me and asked to meet me, not the Morgans.”

In that moment of shared silence, a surge of longing coursed through me, unexpected and undeniable. I rose from my seat, but my movements were laden with a lingering hesitation, as if time itself had paused to witness the unspoken yearning within me. How I wished for him to delve deeper, to ignite a spark that transcended mere professional discourse.

As we walked towards the threshold together, gratitude mingled with an unspoken plea in my voice as I uttered, “Thank you for considering my proposal.” His gaze held mine just outside the doorway, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability that swiftly vanished like shadows in the night. His parting words lingered in the air, heavy with truth and resonance: “Trust is earned, not freely given.”

With Anthony’s departure echoing in the corridor, I found myself left alone amidst a whirlwind of thoughts.

I stood alone. Then reality crashed over me, jagged, ruthless. If I received and accepting this job with the Morgans, I’d plunged headfirst into danger. After everything with Belle, they’d never forgive her betrayal.

But that long-buried wildfire within still burned. Stepping outside my comfort zone made me feel alive for the first time in years. I wanted, no, I needed this.

Glancing around the empty conference room, determination ignited in my veins. I strode forward into the unknown. What happened next could destroy everything I’d built for myself since I’d had to find my own way. Maybe I shouldn’t take the job. The choice was mine.