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His for a year

Chapter 5 Unfinished business

Word Count: 1332    |    Released on: 03/04/2025

O

air hitting my flushed skin. My heart raced, not f

ust ha

en eyes-unforgiving and intense-were burned into my memory. The wa

d. "I barely know him, and he's

g away,

er down my spine. Jameson stood in the doorway, h

n?" I snapped. "Haven't y

re the one who stormed off in the

like perfectly awkwa

ne. "Awkward? You didn't seem so awkward

sn't-" I started, but his rai

didn't mean anything," I said quickly, anger

ht. It didn't mean anything. Just a moment of misplace

een a relief, but it wasn't. I

do," I shot back, f

t probing. Finally, he stepped back. "Good

se," I

his cold indifference, the way he saw through me. But m

ning, Miss Monroe," he said

ments, trying to steady my breathing. His

wrong

to leave the party, needing to e

. I kicked off my heels and sank on

ague. A thor

it was like he saw throu

rd to think abo

aside. Tomorrow, I'd focus on work. There

xt mor

throbbed, a lingering reminder of last night's chaos. I groaned, rubbing my temples a

, intent on making coffee. But as I passed the small table

thing was

gotten to shut it down. My inbox was open, a bold not

that he'd found some new way to ruin my life. Maybe he wa

I blinked in confusion a

w-Up on Collab

s Mo

e points worth discussing further. I've cleared my sch

on Mo

my eyes weren't deceiving me. Jameson Montague, the

made it painfully clear he thought I was a liar

y job-and possibly my entire career-was hanging by a threa

imself. His secretary, a sharp-featured woman with a t

hly, her tone laced with some

ting for you. Try no

ing on her mind from her ey

tesy. I straightened my shoulders and walked

lancing up as I entered. "You're late

9. "No, I'm not," I rep

ed, amusement f

hing my notebook. His piercing

er your proposal," he said, vo

e pitch. Anger simmered, but I tamped

h, but each point was m

s will work? Seems like

rustration edging my voice. "The da

bers, Miss Monroe. The

mbers are tailored to your strengths

an eyebrow

rks, and you know it. The question is if you'll

s unreadable expression

e results for someone so confide

ject this, not potential," I retorted. "I

thing in his eyes. "You've got fire, but fire

n deliver," I said

n he smirked, leaning back. "Alright, you'll run a presenta

doubt. "Thank yo

" he replied, coolly

with a cold, unreadable expression. I shook of

myself a small smile. The meeting hadn't gone pe

hen I noticed a folded pie

t sinking as I read the message

hen dealing with J

ran down

eft this?

ing-or anyone-out of place. But everything seeme

my work. But the unease lingered, and one thing was cert

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