BLACKMAILED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 10: Unspoken Tensions

 Harry

The moment Bella stepped away, the atmosphere in the room subtly changed. The sound of her laughter, unusually genuine and free, echoed in my thoughts. Observing her interaction with Sean, my oldest friend, caught me off guard. Her laughter was not the reserved, polite chuckle I was used to hearing in the office; it was deep, lively – authentic. It painted a Bella vastly different from the one I thought I knew.

Breaking the brief silence, Ben, ever blunt, posed a question. "So, Harry, is Bella available? Is there any guy fortunate enough to catch her eye?" His inquiry struck a chord. I remembered Bella mentioning once how her job didn't leave much space for a personal life. And, if I'm being honest, I found myself pleased with that arrangement, more than I should be.

"Why the curiosity, Ben?" My tone was sharper than I intended, the protectiveness I felt for Bella surprising even me.

The air in the room crackled with tension, charged with unsaid words and unexplored implications. Ben's inquisitive eyes locked onto mine, his question hanging heavily in the air. "Just want to know... maybe I'll ask her out. Just making sure there's nothing going on between you two."

My response came swiftly, perhaps too swiftly, betraying a hint of the turmoil that churned beneath my composed exterior. "She's just my assistant, nothing more," I found myself saying, the words laced with a defensiveness I hadn't intended to display. "And trust me, she's not interested in someone like you. I know your game Ben, so stay the fuck away from her," I added, the intensity of my own warning surprising even me.

Ben's eyebrows lifted, his expression shifting between feigned innocence and a glimmer of amusement. "Did I hit a sore spot, Harry? You're not usually the type to play the overprotective role. What's the real story here? Scared I might actually be her type?"

My irritation bubbled just beneath the surface as I retorted, "Absolutely not. Mixing business with pleasure isn't my thing." The words rang empty to my own ears. I hesitated, then added, "And you're definitely not her type—I'm aware of what you're capable of."

Ben's expression morphed, his smirk now tinged with a curious intrigue. "Oh? And what am I capable of, Harry? We're not strangers to your... 'adventures,' shall we say. At least I don't shy away from the idea of commitment, unlike you, who seems to have an aversion to anything lasting longer than a night."

Annoyance flared within me, his words like a spark to dry tinder. I fought to dampen the rising flame of my anger, my reply slicing through the tension. "We're done here. She's off-limits. Not interested in you, and she's too damn important to me professionally. Bella doesn't fit my mold, not my type ," I snapped, each word a brick in the wall I hurriedly erected around my feelings. "Romantic interest? Bullshit," I scoffed, but it was like throwing water on oil—my insides churned with unacknowledged turmoil.

Laughter, deep and mocking, cut through the tension as Ben's disbelief became evident. "Not your type? She's stunning, Harry. No attraction at all? Or is it fear? Perhaps you're already smitten but too cowardly to acknowledge it."

Dismissing the notion with a scornful laugh, I retorted, "Smitten? Ridiculous." My forced chuckle was meant to deflect, to ridicule the absurdity of it all. "If I had any interest, would I parade my flings, all under Bella's observant gaze?"

Ben leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But she stayed over, didn't she? If there's really nothing, why would that happen?"

I replied, terse and on edge, "A simple matter of logistics. My driver was off, and it was too late for her to leave."

"Really? The driver?" Ben's smirk widened. "That's your excuse?"

I shot back, frustration mounting, "Your opinion doesn't matter. There's nothing between Bella and me."