18+
❝ I'm a man of great restraint but seeing you like this is pushing the boundaries of my self control, so bad that I might just pin you against this wall and fuck the life right out of you. ❞
*******
San Francisco royalty, Killian Fobster is an e...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Waking up completely wrapped around Hope while she slept in one of my hoodies did something to my insides that I didn't understand.
It had been at least three hours since I jerked off in the bathroom and left home and I thought that maybe forcing my focus back into work would help me rid myself of these thoughts and clear my head, but it remained the same. Everything— this ache in my chest, the need for closure, wanting to touch her, to tell her how beautiful her morning face looked, to tell her the fuzzy feeling she stirred in my stomach every time she mumbled cutely in her sleep—
"Mr. Fobster?"
Cleo's labored breaths jolted me out of my dazed state and I immediately looked up from the screen of my laptop which I had been staring blindly at for the past five minutes.
"What?"
A trickle of sweat slipped from her caked face as she dropped the cup of guacamole blended smoothie I'd made her walk five blocks to get. "Your smoothie."
I leaned forward and eyed the green substance shrewdly. In truth, I didn't want it. I didn't even remember why I had sent her to get it.
"Throw it out. I don't want it anymore."
Her eyes shot up to mine. "Sir?"
She stared at me for a few seconds, still blinking in disbelief.
"I don't like to repeat myself, Cleo, throw it out."
"But sir," Her tone held a hint of defiance. "I walked five blocks to get this and —"
I lowered my glasses and leveled her with a warning glare. "Are you forcing me to drink it?"
She shook her head quickly. "No no, sir. I'll take it away immediately." The look in her eyes; if they could kill I'd most likely be dead. "Anything else you would like?"
"Send me the records of the last week's real estate market price—" My door creaked open and Brad stepped in.
"Bad time?"
I shook my head and shifted my gaze to Cleo. "You are dismissed."
She nodded, grabbed the cup, and bobbed a greeting to Brad before exiting the office.
"Here." He walked over to my desk and dropped a news bulletin on it. "Your father dropped a press statement this morning about the scandal." He briefed, plopping Into the chair on the other side of my desk.
I picked up the bulletin and surveyed the article on the front line.
"It's settled," he continued. "The media houses have refuted their publication and it's been treated as false news."
I put the paper down and looked straight at him. "I don't care if they refuted. I want to know how it got leaked in the first place."
"I had Jerry do some digging, turns out it leaked from TMZ. But they claim the information and photos of prenuptial papers came from an unidentifiable source." He sighed. "We're going to be suing for libel and work a release fee of 12 million."
