BRONTE’S POV(WARNING: DUBIOUS CONSENT)My fucking hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The air in the boardroom was so thick with money and power it felt like I was breathing ice.

And at the head of that stupidly long mahogany table sat him. Lennox Black. The new CEO.

A man so cold I swear the temperature dropped ten degrees when he walked in.

I was just Bronte. The secretary. The ghost in a cheap blouse and skirt who was supposed to pour coffee and be fucking invisible.

The porcelain cup was trembling in my hand. Don’t fuck up, don’t fuck up, don’t fuck up.

I poured the steaming black liquid, my eyes glued...