by Rina Kent
It’s a tactic to show the power he possesses and how easily he can turn people to his side if he chooses to do so.
It’s not pretentiousness, it’s a carefully laid plan. Jonathan is the type of man who showcases his battalion before a war to shoot fear into his enemies’ hearts. That way, he can win with minimum effort.
His gaze falls back on me, and I instinctively gulp. It takes everything in me not to tuck Layla under my arm and run far away from his vicinity.
Part of my defence methods is my ability to recognise threats — or at least sense them. It’s what saved me eleven years ago, and it’s what’s screaming at me to save myself now.
Jonathan is a dangerous man, if not the most fatal of all.
Only, his weapons aren’t knives or guns. It’s his ability to strip you bare with the sheer power he’s spent years cultivating and magnifying to impossible heights.
The fact that I bluntly went against his order has turned me into a problem he needs to solve.
Or eradicate.
I now recognise that he held back the day of Aiden’s wedding. Because the Jonathan standing in front of me has come prepared for an all-out war.
And I’m that war.
“Harris. Wait for me in the car.” He’s speaking to his employee, but his unblinking, unnerving attention never breaks off me.
Harris nods and motions at all the other men, who follow him out without a word.
“You may leave too, Ms Hussaini.”
“I will not. Aurora and I are partners. If you have any business talk, we’ll both be present to hear it.” Layla interlaces her arm with mine. There’s a slight tremble in it, and I know how rattled she must feel right now. Jonathan isn’t the type of man to be taken lightly.
Still, her loyalty and how she refuses to leave me alone warms my heart to the point of explosion.
However, I don’t want her to face Jonathan’s wrath. I’m the one who went against his order, and if anyone needs to stand in front of a god while he issues his punishment, it’ll just be me.
Layla has done nothing to deserve this. Besides, I have somewhat of a familial tie with him. She doesn’t. He wouldn’t hesitate before he smashes her under his shoe.
“You can go, Lay.” I pat her hand.
“No.” She shakes her head in that stubborn way.
“Listen to your partner, Ms Hussaini,” Jonathan chimes in.
Layla ignores him and focuses on me. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I can take care of him.”
“Text me if anything happens,” she leans in to whisper so only I can hear her. “If he hurts you in any way, I’m going to kick him in that straight nose of his, maybe bring it down to earth a little. Remember how I sent that thug who tried to rob us to the A&E? Next up will be Jonathan King’s nose.”
I smile, nodding as she finally releases me. Before leaving, she stops in front of Jonathan. She’s so tiny next to him, it would be comical under different circumstances.
“I have a black belt in karate and two of my brothers are captains in the British Army,” she tells him ever so casually.
“Lay…” I shake my head. The last thing she wants to do is threaten him or put herself on his radar.
Jonathan raises a brow. “Is that a threat, Ms Hussaini?”
“It’s a piece of information, freely provided.” Behind his back, she motions at me to text her, then leaves.
As the door closes behind her with a loud click, I feel the gravity of the situation before Jonathan even says a word.
I gulp down all the emotions rising to the surface and hold eye contact. I’ve never found a problem doing that with anyone in the past.
Now is different.
Everything is. Starting with the man who’s standing in the middle of my office like he owns it — which, in a way, he does.
Maintaining eye contact with Jonathan is like being ripped to pieces and not having the ability to do anything about it. He feeds off my energy in the most savage way, and he has no plans to return it.
“What do you want, Jonathan?”
“I told you what I want, and you purposefully went against it. Very bold.”
I swallow as he rounds my desk and lowers himself onto my chair with utter confidence as if it’s always been his.
My legs are barely keeping me standing, so I don’t attempt to move from my position. “Are you going to leave me alone now?”
He laughs, the sound hollow and frightening. “I’ll take that as a joke.”
“You got what you wanted. Ethan is already out.”
“True, but I did it, not you. Why should you be rewarded for it?”
“So, what? You’ll just own my company?”
“My company, but I digress.”
“You can’t do that.”
“It’s already done.” He places his elbows on the surface of the desk and leans over, forming a steeple at his chin. “Unless you’re willing to offer payment.”
I perk up, hope blossoming in my chest like fireworks. “I am. I’ll pay anything.”
“Anything? Careful, wild one. That’s a strong word to use.”
“I meant within reason, and only if you allow us to pay in instalments.”
“Instalments. I like that idea.”
“Right.” I round the sofa to stand in front of my desk, the one he so bluntly made his. “You can even keep some of your shares as a form of investment if you like.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” I’m blurting things out now, but I don’t care as long as it gets us our company back. “Layla and I might even be willing to offer you a bit more than what you paid for the shares. All we need is the option to pay in instalments and time until our next product is launched.”
“Shares and money aren’t the payment I was thinking of.”
I frown. “Then what is?”
“You, Aurora.”
9
Aurora
I stare at Jonathan with what must look like a blank expression.
For the second time in the span of a few minutes, he’s put me completely out of my element. It’s like I’m suddenly stripped to my most basic form and I can’t begin to explain what’s happening.
“What did you just say?” I murmur, resisting the urge to fall on the chair opposite my desk – the one he’s sitting behind like it’s always been his to snatch. This whole situation feels like it’s always been his to start and own.
“You heard me.” Jonathan’s expression remains calm, bored even, as if he didn’t suggest that he take…me.
“What do you mean exactly by taking me for payment?” My voice regains some of its edge.
“It’s as simple as it sounds. In exchange for transferring full ownership of the stocks, I want you to pay for them by becoming mine.”
My cheeks heat with the humiliation of the thought, but my voice comes out strong and clear. “I’m not a whore.”
“You’ll be mine, not my whore. There’s a difference. I’m not interested in a slut. If I were, I could’ve gotten her off the streets or scooped one up at a party. They’re not worth the hundreds of thousands I paid for H&H’s stocks.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel flattered or something?”
“It’s not my purpose, but if you are, by all means.”
The dick.
My blood boils with the need to hit him across the face and scream bloody murder. But even I recognise that with Jonathan, he’ll make it seem like I’m the one who committed murder, not the other way around.
I try to bargain with myself to remain cool-headed, realising full well that the agitation will only push me to make mistakes. Yes, his suggestion and the nonchalant way he said it — as if it’s a given — is like having tentacles wrapped around my chest, but I need to find a way to deal with it. “You’re crazy if you thought I’d agree to this.”
“Watch that mouth, Aurora. I don’t appreciate being called crazy.”
“And I don’t appreciate being treated like a
whore in my own company.”
“My company. It is now my property. You’ll get used to it with time.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’ll buy back the shares for double the price you paid.”
“Not interested.”
“Why the hell not? You’re a businessman. You’re supposed to consider profit before anything else.”
He stands up and it takes all of my self-confidence not to step back and glue myself to the wall – or better yet, turn around and get the hell out of his lethal presence. I haven’t been breathing properly since he barged into my office.
But the fact remains, it is my office. I won’t allow Jonathan or anyone else to make me abandon it.
“Have you heard about suffering small losses for the greater good? This is one of those situations, wild one. You can offer me ten times what I paid, and I still won’t sell.” He stops in front of me, a hand in his pocket and his arrogant nose nearly hitting the roof. “Here’s how it’ll go. You offer yourself to me willingly. And by willingly, I mean you’re completely into this; there will be no bowing out, changing your mind, or playing the victim card.”
“And if I don’t agree?” I ask, even though my tongue sticks to the roof of my dry mouth.
“You’ll give up ownership of H&H and I’ll have the liberty to sell it or merge it with another company. I haven’t decided yet.”
“You…you can’t do that. The artistic value of H&H will disappear.”
“I have no fucks to give about that.”
“How about the employees? Will you at least keep them? Many of them have debts and loans to pay. They’ve been with us since the start, and some are too old to work for larger corporations.”
“I don’t see why any of that is my problem.” His face remains stoic, unchanging.
Tears gather in my eyes at the injustice of the world. A world ruled by the likes of Jonathan King. Large corporations like King Enterprises don’t give a fuck about smaller ones. They don’t stop to look under their shoes after they crush multiple families with their capitalist bullshit.
Gulping in a deep breath, I try to ignore how close he is and that his scent is enveloping me whether I like it or not. It’s another one of the intimidation factors that he uses relentlessly and unapologetically.
It’s useless to fight him on a bigger scale or in a company versus company type of argument. He came here already knowing he has the upper hand, so he’ll never cave in.
I take an entirely different route. “You’re my sister’s husband. We can’t possibly do this.”
“I get to decide that, and I say we will.”
“How could you do this to Alicia after…” I trail off before I blurt out all the thoughts I want to scream at his face. This is the worst time to confront him about the past.
He eradicates the distance between us in one step and holds my chin captive like he did at the wedding. I try to take a step back, but he wraps his other hand around the back of my neck, imprisoning me.
My pulse heightens until it’s the only thing I can hear in my ears. His callous touch, and the way he does it, as if he has every right to — as if I’m already his property — should make me rage. However, I’m unable to get past the ball lodged in my throat. It’s like I’m back to being that little girl who peeked up at him, because actually looking at him? That’s like peering at the sun and being roasted alive.
“After what? If you start something, finish it.”
“After she died.” I’m glad my voice doesn’t crack or break. “I can’t do that to her. She was my sister.”
“The one whose funeral you didn’t even attend?”
I bite my lower lip, caging in the feelings trying to bleed out of me.
“That’s what I thought.” He releases me with what almost seems like…distaste.
I see it then, the darkness in his grey eyes. At first, I thought it was anger and disapproval, and while those are indeed there, it’s so much deeper than that. There’s also another potent emotion that’s lurking beneath the surface.
Grudge. Hard and poignant.
Jonathan doesn’t seek to own me because he wants me. Far from it. He has a hidden agenda and he won’t stop until he achieves it. Whether I survive or perish at the end is the least of his concerns.
“I’ll give you time to think about it, and then I’ll send a driver to your house.”
“How do you know my address?”
He continues as if I didn’t just ask him a question, “If you don’t show up at my house tonight, Harris will start H&H acquisition procedures tomorrow morning.”
“How…how is that a choice?”
“It is. You’ll always have a choice with me, Aurora. Be smart. After what you did to Maxim, I expect that of you.”
“I told you not to say his name,” I snap.
He watches me peculiarly for a second. I expect him to invade my space again and confiscate my oxygen, but he turns around and leaves with the same savage power he walked in with.
Air whooshes back into my lungs and I fall on the chair, my heels scraping against the ground. It’s like he stole my thought process, and I can now have it back.
Or not really.
Now the air is thick with his indecent proposal that’s hanging over my head like a guillotine. I’m not an idiot. I know Jonathan wouldn’t pay so much money for pussy. I mean, he’s the Jonathan King. He can have whomever he wishes.
So why me? What the hell does he want from me?
The door opens and Layla rushes inside holding two cups of iced coffee. “That bastard had a smile on his face as he left. That’s not good, is it?”
“We’re screwed, Lay.”
We sit across from each other as I tell her all about Jonathan’s proposal and the price he demands I pay.
“That piece of S!” She jumps to her feet, pacing the length of the office and slurping from her coffee cup. “You can sue him for sexual harassment.”
“He didn’t force me. If anything, he wants me to be one hundred per cent willing.”
“D. I. C. K,” she spells out.
“There’s something else, Lay.”
“What? What is it?” She crouches in front of me, her mouth releasing the straw with a gentle pop and dread forming a crease on her forehead.
“I don’t think I’m his endgame. There’s something else I can’t put my finger on.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmm. I must say, it makes sense. He’s Jonathan King, right? He wouldn’t pay so much for a mistress.”
My nose scrunches at that word. I can’t believe the bastard actually suggested that he gets…me. Out of all things, it had to be that.
“Is it because of your sister?”
“What?”
“You’re a carbon copy of her, even Ethan noticed that. Surely Jonathan noticed it, too. Maybe he wants you to be her replacement.”
“That’s…sick.”
“I know, but this is Jonathan. He’s kind of sick. You can tell that underneath all the silver fox appearance, there’s a Satan’s spawn. You can’t eliminate any possibility.”
“You know, I always hated him because Alicia had acute depression and he made it worse. I could feel it even when I was a little girl. And remember those articles that speculated she didn’t die because of an accident but from committing suicide? I believe them, Lay. I believe he’s the major reason my sister could’ve made that decision. And now, I have to relive her fate?”
“Oh, come here.” Layla wraps an arm around my shoulder. “You won’t, okay? We’ll start from scratch. Just the two of us, like when we were fresh out of uni and clueless. Remember those times we stayed up all night? You have the talent and I have the brains. We can totally do this again, mate. Jonathan King can suck our Ds.”
I laugh despite myself. “How about our employees?”
“We can keep some and help others search for work. Many small businesses do that.” There’s a sadness in
her voice as she speaks.
I shake my head. I can’t do that to her and to them. Layla and I spent too many sleepless nights to stop now or to allow Jonathan to bring us down.
Besides, I doubt he’d leave us alone. If we choose to walk away, there’s nothing that would keep him from coming after me again. Knowing him and his ruthless ways, he might even let us prosper for a while just so he could swoop back in and announce ownership of our new company like he did today.
I won’t spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder because of Jonathan King.
I’m already doing that because of another devil. I’ll never let it repeat.
Jonathan wants to have me?
Fine.
But he’ll regret every second of it.
10
Jonathan
Contrary to popular belief, the key to being a mastermind isn’t your ability to plot. It’s, in fact, your ability to predict your opponent’s moves before they make them.
To win, you can’t be taken by surprise or driven out of your element. It should be the other way around.
That’s how I conquer.
How I win.
How I drag everyone down so I’m the only one who rules over them.
Aurora is nothing but the latest addition to my collection. I have no doubt she’ll come tonight. It’s not speculation. It’s a fact.
According to the information Harris gathered about her, she started H&H with her black belt friend as soon as they were out of university. They even began planning and submitting requests before graduation. She poured more than six years of sweat and sleepless nights into that company. And according to their numbers, they were doing well.
If it weren’t for their accountant’s embezzlement, I wouldn’t have gotten in that easily. It still wouldn’t have been impossible, even if they were stable. However, it would’ve taken more time than I had to spare.
Time is the crown no one can acquire, and if I’d missed this chance, Ethan would’ve won.
Which is out of the question.
I had to lose a few favours in order to win over the bank director and Lucien Vincent. The first was easy to appease with a subsidiary that brings in five times more net profit than H&H. It’s Lucien that was a bit of a problem. Sebastian Queens, the prime minister and one of my biggest allies, doesn’t like him due to some idiotic jealous episode over his wife.