135

Facing Brandon’s cold side reminds me of the first time I met him—the man I thought couldn’t be defied. Especially now.

We’re sitting on what feels like miles apart in the backseat of his Mercedes without talking, but the tension between us is thick and palpable. I ache to reach out to him, run my fingers over his chest, embrace him, and ask him what I can do for him, but I’m afraid he will reject me.

I watch the window quietly, wondering where we are going. A couple of minutes later, we stop by a towering building in the middle of the city. Brandon steps out of the car first and lets John open the door for me.

“What are we going to do here, exactly?” I ask, but John doesn’t answer and lets me walk first. Brandon waits for me patiently and unexpectedly holds my hand possessively.

“I want you to be on your best behavior today. Can I count on that?”

I swallow dryly. “Yes. I think I can do that.”

“Good.”

When we walk to the building, several men in suits approach him immediately, and Bra