Empire of Sin (Empire #2)(61)

Yes, I ran away, but that doesn’t mean they won’t chase me. Hurt me—or Babushka.

Or the people I’ve started to care about despite vowing to stay alone. Despite my efforts and the walls I’ve built around me.

And because I’ve been having these small bursts of anxiety since this morning, I’ve been manically checking on Babushka and making sure she’s okay.

It’s probably a play of my imagination, a trick of my brain, which is rejecting how alive I’ve been lately.

So absolutely alive.

My phone vibrates and I hide it from Gwen and Chris as I check the text.

Knox: My office. Now.

I type discreetly, even though they’re both still bickering.

Me: Not the supply room?

Knox: I know your pussy misses me, but this is about work.

Despite the tinge of disappointment, I stand, clearing my throat. “They need me on the partners’ floor.”

A frown appears between Gwen’s brows. “Now?”

“Yeah, I’ll catch up with you later.”

I grab my laptop case and leave before either of them can say anything. I know it’s about work, but if I can see his face, that’s fine.

No clue when seeing Knox became this vital, and I think I have an unhealthy fixation, but it’s there and it’s impossible to get rid of it.

And maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to.

When he came to find me at the club yesterday, my chest squeezed the hardest it ever has, and everything that followed made it even tighter and narrower until I couldn’t breathe.

Or maybe I breathed way past my capacity until I had no air left besides what his mouth fed me when he kissed me senseless in the car.

I’m practically jogging to his office and when I reach it, I stop to catch my breath and fix my hair. Before, I never felt the need to be beautiful for anyone, but now, I keep thinking about being in my best shape, just so I can deepen that gleam in his eyes.

But that means becoming Anastasia again. That means being a wallflower whose life is dictated for her, and I refuse to do that.

Inhaling deeply, I tap on Knox’s office door and his gruff “Come in” makes me clench my thighs.

Get a grip, Ana.

I slip inside and find him sitting majestically behind his desk, reading from a file. He’s so beautiful, it’s a little painful, especially when he’s concentrating on his task, his thick brows knit together and his strong hands flipping through the pages.

Why am I not those measly pieces of paper?

As if reading my thoughts, he lifts his head and a sly smirk tilts his lips. “You’re here.”

“You said you needed me.”

“Needed you?”

“For work.”

“If you keep staring at me with those come-and-fuck-me eyes, that plan will change.”

I gulp, looking at the floor.

“No, Anastasia. You never break eye contact with me, not for any reason.”

I slowly lift my head and take in a few steadying breaths. “What do you want me to work on?”

“I’m forming an offensive strategy for Sandra’s case. I emailed you a list of leads that I want you to go through.”

“So it’s about gathering intel?”

“In a not-so-legal way. Are you up for it?”

“I’ll be happy to help.”

“If Nate or anyone else finds out about this, they’ll fire you.”

“And they’ll probably call a disciplinary board meeting for you.”

He smiles. “You’re worried about me, beautiful?”

“No, I’m…not.”

“As you shouldn’t be. They can’t hurt me for this.”

“But what if the opposing lawyers find out? You could lose your license, right?”

“This is between you and me, so unless you betray me, no one will find out.”

“Only…the two of us know?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because of all the complications that could arise from it.”

My nails dig into the strap of the laptop case and I try not to be disappointed that he didn’t say the words I didn’t know I wanted to hear, but now, I do.

I wanted him to say he trusted me.

But that’s stupid. Why would he trust me when my background is a mystery and he’s well aware that I’ve adopted a different identity than my own?

It’s the reason I haven’t shown him my eyes; I needed to keep a piece of myself hidden.

And maybe he wants to hide a piece of himself, too, because he’s never fucked me while looking at me.

Like me, he has high walls and prefers to keep them that way.

I should be fine with that. After all, this arrangement suits me the best, but that’s not the case.

So instead of focusing on those somber thoughts, I sit on the sofa and get lost in work, typing away at my computer.

I’m at it for some time, not sure how long, since I kind of forget about my surroundings when I’m creating systems or breaking through firewalls.

“You’re fucking hot when you’re in your nerdy zone, beautiful.”

I stare up at that, my breath catching in my throat, and my cheeks burn bright. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” His voice drops as he glides his finger on the edge of the paper. “Telling you how hot you are?”