5. The Edge of Control

The contract sat in front of her, a single sheet of paper that held more power than anything in her life right now, mocking her with its pristine, untouched pages. Next to it, her laptop screen still glowed with the Cavendish Project: Phase One email thread, its cryptic phrases swirling in her mind like a storm she couldn’t escape.

"Acquisition strategies."

"Control measures."

"Necessary eliminations."

Amelia leaned back into the couch, staring at it. Not signing meant she still had a choice. Signing meant surrendering to Adrian Black’s world. And she had no doubt that once she stepped into his world, there would be no escape.

She hadn’t slept. She couldn’t. Ethan’s warning played over and over in her head.

"He’s not just coming for Cavendish. He’s coming for you."

The words should have sent her running. But instead, they pulled her deeper. Because if Adrian was playing a game, then she needed to know what kind of piece she was on his board. A part of her had suspected Adrian was dangerous. That he operated outside the boundaries of traditional corporate power. But this?

A soft chime from her phone broke the silence. She grabbed it, pulse quickening at the name on the screen.

Adrian Black: “Black Tower. 8 am.”

No greeting. No question. Just a command.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She thought about ignoring him, walking away. But Amelia Hayes wasn’t the kind of woman who ran.

“I’ll be there.”

By the time she arrived at Black Tower, the sun had barely risen, casting long shadows against the sleek glass exterior, the city was still waking up, the streets bathed in early morning light. The lobby was quieter than usual, an eerie calm settling over the space.

The receptionist, Natalie, gave her a knowing smile, as if she already knew exactly why Amelia was here.

But she wasn’t just here for a job anymore. She was here to find out why Adrian Black wanted her so badly.

“Mr. Black is waiting for you in his private office,” she said smoothly, pressing the elevator button for Amelia before she could react.

Private office. Not the conference rooms. Not the main floor. His personal space.

The elevator ride felt suffocating, the air thick with a tension only Adrian could create without even being present.

When the doors slid open, Amelia stepped into a space that felt like him. Sleek, dark, and impossibly powerful. It revealed a penthouse-level office bathed in soft morning light. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, and inside, everything was cold, calculated, and undeniably Adrian.

He stood near his desk, a vision of control and precision, dressed in a crisp black shirt with the top button undone. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms, veins visible against tanned skin. A glass of espresso sat untouched beside him.

He didn’t even look up at first. But she felt it when he did. That slow, calculated glance, trailing over her like he was memorizing every detail.

“You’re early.”

Amelia stepped inside, ignoring the way the air felt heavier between them. “You said 9 am.”

He finally set his glass down and walked toward her, each step a deliberate show of control. He smirked, slow and knowing. “I wanted to see if you’d obey," he said, his voice smooth as silk.

She scoffed, folding her arms. “I don’t obey, Adrian. I choose.”

He stopped just inches from her. Close enough for her to feel his heat. He studied her, like a predator assessing its prey. “Then tell me, Amelia. Have you made your choice?”

Instead of answering, she slid the contract across the desk. Her heart pounded. "Why don’t you tell me first, why do you want me?"

Something flickered in his expression. A slow, knowing smirk. "You already know the answer."

She held his gaze. "Enlighten me."

Silence stretched between them. Then, he moved. Slow. Deliberate. A predator circling his prey. Amelia felt his presence, towering, intoxicating.

Adrian leaned down, voice low and smooth. "You intrigue me, Amelia."

Her breath hitched.

"I don’t intrigue easily."

She swallowed. "So this is about amusement?"

Adrian’s smirk vanished. Instantly. His fingers brushed against the edge of the contract, tracing the paper with slow, deliberate strokes. "No." His voice turned darker, lower. “This is about control.”

A shiver ran down her spine. “Control?”

“You want answers, Amelia?” His fingers slid under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. 

He picked up the contract, flipping through it lazily before setting it back down. Then, he leaned in, so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her skin. Adrian’s gaze flicked down to her lips before locking onto her eyes again. Dark. Unyielding. Possessive.

“Then sign it.”

Her pulse skipped. The word was a command. A challenge.

She should pull away. She should not let Adrian Black touch her like this. But she didn’t move. "If I do?" she whispered.

His smirk returned, wicked and dangerous. "Then you’ll find out exactly what happens when you belong to me."

Her stomach flipped, a dangerous thrill shooting through her veins. 

This was insane. He was insane.

But the worst part?

She should walk away. But she didn’t. She stayed.

Her fingers curled against her lap. “And if I don’t?”

Adrian exhaled a quiet chuckle, standing upright again. “Then I suppose we’ll find out how long you can resist.”

Before she could respond, the office door swung open.

Victor. Again.

He walked in, eyes flicking between them with an expression that made her skin prickle. Too knowing. Too amused.

“Sir,” Victor said smoothly, “Ethan Cavendish has been making calls.”

The temperature in the room dropped. Adrian’s entire demeanor shifted. The teasing smirk vanished, replaced by something cold. Dangerous.

Amelia sat up straighter. “What kind of calls?”

Victor hesitated before speaking. “To old associates. Journalists. Even a few lawyers.” He turned to Adrian. “He’s digging, sir. He’s looking for leverage.”

Amelia’s stomach twisted.

Ethan. That bastard.

Adrian tensed, his fingers flexing against the desk. But when he spoke, his voice was calm. Calculated.

“Ethan has already lost.” He picked up his espresso and took a slow sip, as if the conversation bored him. “But he doesn’t know it yet.”

Victor’s lips twitched. “Shall I remind him?”

A warning. A threat. Once again.

Amelia’s pulse kicked up.

“Wait,” she said. “You’re not actually…”

Adrian turned to her, arching a brow, a slow smirk curling his lips. “What do you think, Amelia?" He leaned against the desk, watching her. Testing her. “Should we let Ethan suffer a little?”

The way he said it, the way he made her complicit, sent a shiver through her. Her pulse spiked. Adrian wasn’t just asking for her opinion. He was making her complicit.

Ethan deserved to suffer. He deserved to feel what she felt.

But the way Adrian looked at her as if waiting for her permission was something else entirely.

A test. A game. A warning.

She swallowed hard. “I think Ethan’s already digging his own grave.”

Adrian smirked, seemingly pleased by her response. “Smart girl.”

Victor, however, watched her too closely, his expression unreadable.

Then, Adrian reached for the contract again, sliding it back toward her.

"One last time, Amelia." His voice dropped, lower, more dangerous. More possessive. "Sign it. Or walk away. But decide now."

A challenge. A dare.

Her pulse pounded. Her fingers hovered over the paper. Her choice.

But before she could respond, Victor’s phone buzzed. His face darkened. He answered, listening intently before nodding once. Then he turned to Adrian, voice clipped.

“There’s been an incident.”

Adrian stilled. His entire posture shifted, tension rolling off him in waves.

“What kind of incident?” he asked, his voice eerily calm.

Victor’s jaw tightened. “Someone tried to break into Amelia’s apartment.”

The air froze.

Adrian’s grip on the desk tightened, knuckles turning white. His gray eyes darkened into something lethal.

Amelia’s breath hitched. Her apartment?

Victor continued, his voice careful. “They didn’t take anything. Just went through her things. Left a message.”

He placed a single item on Adrian’s desk. A small, folded piece of paper. Adrian opened it, his jaw clenching as he read the words.

“Walk away. Or you won’t be so lucky next time.”

Silence.

Deadly. Unforgiving.

Then, in one violent motion, Adrian snapped the espresso glass in his hand.

Amelia flinched. Adrian didn’t.

Blood dripped onto the contract. Onto her name.

Then, he lifted his gaze, locking onto her with a possessive, predatory intensity that made her stomach tighten.

“No one touches what’s mine,” he said, voice lethal.

And for the first time, Amelia realized something terrifyingly inevitable. Her stomach dropped. She had never stood a chance against Adrian Black. Because she wasn’t just working for him.

She belonged to him.