Too Late, Mr. Forbes: Watch Me Shine

"Move."

Hayden Simmons let the heavy oak door of the Forbes Estate slam shut behind her. The biting Manhattan wind swept into the grand foyer, but it was nothing compared to the ice in her veins.

Beulah Hubbard, the head housekeeper, stood at the base of the sweeping staircase. Her eyes raked over Hayden's pale face and wind-blown hair. A sneer twisted Beulah's thin lips.

"I didn't think you'd have the nerve to show your face here again," Beulah said.

Hayden didn't blink. She walked straight toward the stairs, her boots clicking sharply against the marble floor.

Beulah stepped into her path, blocking the first step. "Mr. Forbes isn't here to protect you today. Why don't you just-"

"I said, move." Hayden's voice was dead flat. She stared directly into the older woman's eyes.

Beulah's mouth snapped shut. She took a half-step back, her shoulders stiffening.

Hayden didn't wait for another word. She bypassed the frozen housekeeper and took the stairs two at a time. Her chest was tight, her lungs burning as she marched down the long, carpeted hallway toward the master suite.

She pushed the bedroom door open.

The scent of August's cedar and bergamot cologne hit her like a physical blow to the stomach. Her throat constricted. She forced herself to breathe through her mouth and walked straight into the massive walk-in closet.

She ignored the rows of Chanel jackets and custom Dior gowns. She went straight for the back corner, dragging out the battered black suitcase she had brought with her seven years ago.

She unzipped it. The metal teeth parted with a loud rasp. She started pulling her old, faded sweaters and plain jeans from the bottom drawers, tossing them inside.

The bedroom door crashed open.

The sound of wood slamming against the wall made Hayden jump. She spun around. The sudden light from the hallway blinded her for a second, but she didn't need to see his face to know who it was.

August Forbes stood in the doorway.

Cold air radiated off his dark wool overcoat. His chest heaved once. His dark eyes locked onto the open suitcase on the floor, and the air in the room instantly evaporated.

He crossed the room in three massive strides. His leather shoes sank into the plush rug, heavy and predatory.

Hayden stumbled backward. Her spine hit the hard wood of the closet door. There was nowhere else to go.

August's hand shot out. His long fingers wrapped around her wrist like a steel vice. He yanked her forward, his grip bruising her skin instantly.

"Let go of me!" Hayden gasped, twisting her arm.

August stepped into her space, using his broad chest to pin her against the closet door. His weight was crushing.

He lowered his head. His warm breath hit the shell of her ear. His gaze swept over the battered suitcase on the floor, his pupils contracting for a fraction of a second before the vulnerability was swallowed by a mask of cold mockery. He lifted his hand, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw with a tension he couldn't quite hide. "Is this your new game? Playing the runaway to see if I'll chase you?"

"We are done, August." Hayden ground her teeth together. "It's over."

The muscle in his jaw ticked. His free hand snapped up, his thumb and fingers gripping her chin so hard her teeth clicked together. He forced her head up to look at him.

"You don't get to decide when we are done," he snarled.

He crushed his mouth against hers.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a punishment. His lips were hard, his teeth scraping against hers, forcing her mouth open. He stole her breath, suffocating her with his dominance.

Panic flared in Hayden's chest. She pushed both hands against his solid chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall.

Her lungs screamed for air. She clamped her jaw down hard.

Her teeth sank into his lower lip.

The sharp metallic taste of blood exploded in her mouth.

August flinched with a sharp hiss. He shoved her away.

Hayden lost her footing. She crashed onto the thick rug, her palms burning from the friction. She sat there, gasping for air, her chest heaving violently.

August stood over her. He lifted his thumb and wiped his mouth. He looked at the smear of bright red blood on his skin. A low, dark laugh rumbled in his chest.

"You come back here, treat my staff like garbage, and now this?" He looked down at her as if she were a rabid animal. "Your arrogance is pathetic, Hayden."

Hayden looked up at his cold, flawless face. Her stomach twisted. He didn't even ask why she was leaving. He didn't care about the brooch. He only cared that she was disobeying him.

August pulled a silk square from his pocket. He wiped his thumb, his face twisted in disgust, as if her blood had contaminated him. He dropped the ruined silk onto the floor, right next to her knee.

"You are going to stay in this room," August ordered, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. "You will not leave until my grandfather's centennial gala is over. If you try to walk out those doors, I will make sure you have nothing left."

He turned on his heel. He walked out of the closet, out of the bedroom, and slammed the door shut behind him.