Her lips twist, and I assume it’s because she detected the sarcasm in my tone. “We have…nothing to do with each other.”
“I fucked your virgin cunt and made you scream until your voice turned hoarse, not to mention, the marks I left all over your pale skin. I’d say we have something to do with each other.”
She squirms visibly, and it takes her a few gulps to speak. “Even if that were the case—”
“Even if? Why are you acting as if it wasn’t real?”
“It’s in the past. It means nothing.” Furious determination laces her sweet, soft voice, and I don’t know which pisses me off more: the fact that she’s determined it means nothing or that what happened holds no significance to her in the first place.
“I haven’t agreed to that.”
“I don’t think your agreement is of importance.”
“I would argue otherwise. After all, I’m the only one at Weaver & Shaw who knows your real name, Anastasia.”
She releases a long puff of air. “It’s not—”
“Don’t utter that lie or you won’t get away with it this time.”
She blinks slowly, letting the sandwich fall to her lap. “What do you want from me?”
“The truth. All of it. And that includes your real name, true appearance, and your purpose for being here.”
“Jane is the only name I have. This is my actual appearance, the other one was fake. As for my purpose, I’m really just trying to work to keep food on the table.”
She’s still lying. I can tell when someone is, even if they’re perfect at it like she is. Usually, people give themselves away with tics or out-of-character body language, but she was completely still and calm when she uttered those lies.
Either she’s practiced them for a long time or she’s so used to lying that it doesn’t faze her anymore.
“That doesn’t look like working to me.” I motion at the screen behind her, where she has a Google page open with my name at the top.
She throws the sandwich aside and clicks something on the screen that makes it go black.
My smirk widens. “You’re not so subtle for a stalker.”
“I’m not a stalker.”
“Then what was that I just saw? If you want to know more about me, all you have to do is ask.”
“I’m only doing my research on all of the firm’s employees.”
“You should study law. Your impeccable lying skills would come in handy.”
“No, thanks. The profession suits shady people like you.”
“Hmm. Shady. That’s interesting.”
She purses her lips and I can tell she’s trying to fight with what she should say and shouldn’t. Then she levels me with a stare. “Well, aren’t you? I’m just trying to work and you’re making it impossible.”
“That’s because you’re shady yourself, Jane. Sorry, I mean, Anastasia. Did you really think I’d believe that your only purpose is to work here?”
“It is.”
“I’ll tell Nate about the Anastasia I fucked in Jersey and show him how she transformed into Jane. Then you can take up your case with him. I’m curious to see if he’ll believe you’re not here for ulterior motives.”
She curls her hand into a fist, then lays it on her chest before she whispers, “Don’t.”
“Why? Because it’s true?”
“No… It’s… I need this job. Please.”
“Fuck that. Try again.”
“I really do. I’m…I can’t tell you anything, but I want no trouble and I won’t put the firm in jeopardy, I promise.”
“I don’t believe that. In fact, I’m sure trouble is all you know.”
“Please.”
“Begging doesn’t work with me. At least, not under these circumstances.”
She pauses and a curious spark ignites in her eyes and her face turns a deep shade of red.
Due to her skin tone, each and every one of her emotions shows on her face. But at this point, I’m not sure if it’s bashfulness or anger.
Is she faking that innocence again? Only, she wasn’t faking it two weeks ago. It was her first time, after all.
But it feels different now, like a silent rage that’s about to decimate everything in its wake.
Dead or alive.
She slowly stands up and fuck, I noticed she was petite when we walked to the hotel together, but I’m once again struck by how small she actually is. How the top of her head barely reaches my shoulder when she steps closer to me, eliminating the distance between us.
Her fingers dig into the lapel of my jacket and she says in a low tone, “If you let it go, I’ll give you what you want.”
My dick turns rock-fucking-hard, both at her closeness and at the way she looks at me. Even beneath the glasses, there’s a fire in her eyes. One I didn’t see when I bent her over and took her from behind.
And now, I’m tempted to repeat it. To remove the fucking glasses and sink inside her heat until she’s screaming and panting and unable to move.
The images turn more real with each passing second, until I’m two seconds away from bending her over her own desk and taking her from behind like a fucking animal.
“And what do I want, Anastasia?” I ask nonchalantly, despite the fucked up thoughts running rampant in my head.
She lets her hand drop to her side and says coolly, “Me.”
7
ANASTASIA
I’ve never been the confident type.
It doesn’t matter that I believed myself to be a fairy when I was young or that I mingled with pirates all my life. The only truth that remains is I couldn’t even make eye contact with people.
But I am right now.
Even though it’s through my glasses, I’m staring at him. The stranger whose actual name is Knox Van Doren.
The stranger whom I just so shamelessly told that he could have me—sexually or otherwise, he can just have me.
I sounded confident, too, as if I’m not melting on the inside. As if my skin isn’t catching fire and I’m not about to self-combust. That’s what happens when things don’t go according to plan. I lose it.
Like I lost it when Babushka was thrown away and basically given a death sentence. I might not make eye contact, but I can be as lethal as the people who raised me.
If not more.
Knox Van Doren.
That’s his full name. I found it after I ran from the elevator and browsed the higher employees in Weaver & Shaw and googled them. Sure enough, his name was there, with the junior partners.
And I might have researched him all night long. He comes from a mega rich family in England. His father owns an empire that’s recognized on the international scale and knows tremendous growth.
Not only that, but Knox also gained a reputation in the American press because of his antics and charming side. In the law circuit, he’s known to be a cunning devil in disguise who’s super picky on which clients to accept.
Those who are lucky to be represented by Van Doren might as well have acquired their “get out of jail free card.” Is what one of the magazines wrote about him.
I read countless articles about him and each one painted him in a more sinister light than the previous one.
What? A girl has to look out for herself.
The fact that Knox knows my real name and keeps repeating it and suspecting me is dangerous. Not only that, but it could ruin everything I’ve worked for. My new beginning.
My freedom.
Babushka’s life.
And desperate times call for desperate measures. Which is why I suggested that he have me.
Or that’s what I tell myself as I get incinerated by his presence. There’s something about it, about being so close to him that our breathing mingles together and I’m trapped by his size and his broad shoulders and those golden, intense eyes that could have been created from the combination of a forest and fire.
Or maybe a forest on fire.
There’s something about being so far beyond my comfort zone that it feels both foreign and exciting.
Delirious.
Maybe even addicting.
And like any addict, I can’t help sniffing in more, breathing in more.
Just taking in more.
“You,” he repeats slowly in that deep voice of his, with that eternal calm that still manages to steal shivers from my soul.