Billionaires Desire

Temptation

The weight of the gun in Desiree's hand felt heavier than it should have. Her breath was shallow, her fingers trembling as she stared at Atticus. He stood in front of her, calm and composed, leaning against the balcony railing as if this was just another part of his cold, calculated world. The tension between them was palpable, thickening the air around them as they stood in silence.

Desiree's eyes locked onto his. His gaze was dark, intense, and filled with something she couldn't quite place-danger, amusement, curiosity? She didn't know. All she knew was that her heart was racing, and the gun in her hand felt impossibly heavy.

"Would you do it if I told you to?" His voice was a low whisper, wrapping around her like a vice, suffocating her in the moment. His question wasn't just a taunt-it was a challenge.

Her fingers tightened on the trigger, her mind screaming at her to pull it. But she hesitated. The barrel of the gun wavered slightly as her grip faltered, the weight of the decision crushing her. She couldn't read him-couldn't tell if this was some twisted test or a genuine invitation to end something neither of them had even begun to understand.

Atticus watched her, his expression unreadable, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He didn't move, didn't flinch, even as the gun was pointed directly at him. He was daring her-pushing her to her limit.

"Atticus..." her voice trembled, her resolve weakening.

"You can't do it, can you?" His words were soft, teasing, as if he already knew the answer. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear. "You hesitate, Desiree. You hesitate because you don't know what it means to live in my world. But you will."

She flinched, the cold metal of the gun suddenly too much to bear. Her finger hovered over the trigger, and with a burst of adrenaline, she pulled it.

Click.

Nothing.

Atticus's smirk deepened, his eyes glittering with satisfaction. He straightened, taking the gun from her hand with an ease that unsettled her. "See? You had no reason to be afraid," he whispered, his breath warm against her cheek.

He set the gun down on the small table beside him and then, in a swift motion, grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him. Her body collided with his, and for a moment, the world tilted off its axis. His chest was warm against hers, his heartbeat steady and calm, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside her.

His lips were so close to hers, she could feel the ghost of a kiss, but he didn't close the gap. Instead, he hovered there, teasing her with the possibility. The anticipation was unbearable.

"You'll figure it out soon enough," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear once more before he pulled away entirely, leaving her breathless and confused.

"Go to bed," he ordered softly, his voice commanding yet laced with something almost tender. "Tomorrow, we begin."

Desiree stood there, heart still racing, trying to process everything that had just happened. Her fingers tingled where they had held the gun, her mind spinning with thoughts she couldn't quite catch. Atticus-he was dangerous, no doubt, but there was something about him that kept pulling her in, something that made her want to understand him, even though she knew it would only lead to more confusion, more pain.

Without another word, she turned and left the room, feeling his gaze on her the entire time. As she lay in bed that night, her mind raced with questions. What was she to him? A pawn in some twisted game? Or something more? And why, even after everything, did she feel this strange connection to him?

---

The next day came all too quickly.

Desiree woke up with a sense of dread gnawing at her insides. She dressed quickly, her thoughts still circling around the events of the previous night. She couldn't shake the feeling that everything was shifting-like the ground beneath her was slowly crumbling, and she had no idea where she would land.

She was told Atticus would take her out today. It was the first time since her arrival that he had shown any real interest in her beyond cold indifference, and the weight of it sat heavily on her chest. What was this about? Another test?

They drove in silence. Atticus was a mystery beside her, his eyes focused ahead as they made their way into the city. He didn't speak, and neither did she, the tension between them growing thicker with every passing minute. The only sound was the hum of the engine and the distant honking of cars as they entered the business district.

They arrived at one of the towering skyscrapers owned by the Killian family. It was sleek, modern, and intimidating-just like him. The building's glass walls reflected the bustling city around it, giving it an air of untouchable power.

Atticus led her inside without a word, his presence commanding even in silence. Desiree followed closely, feeling the weight of his aura, unsure of what to expect.

As they stepped into the elevator, the doors closing them into a small space, she couldn't help but feel the air shift again. The tension between them was undeniable, almost electric. She felt his gaze on her, even though he hadn't spoken since they left the house.

Finally, as the elevator began to rise, he turned to her, his eyes dark with intensity. "You'll be with me today," he said simply, his voice low. "Stay close. Don't wander off. And don't speak unless spoken to. Understood?"

She nodded, her heart pounding. "Yes ."

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, revealing a spacious, sleek office space. Atticus led her out, striding confidently toward his private office. Desiree followed, feeling the eyes of the staff on her as they walked by. Whispers followed them, but she ignored them, keeping her focus on Atticus.

He opened the glass door to his office and gestured for her to enter. "Wait here," he said before disappearing into another room, leaving her alone.

Desiree sat down, her mind racing. She wasn't sure what the point of all this was-why he had brought her here, what he wanted from her. But the thought didn't last long, because soon enough, she felt a pair of eyes on her.

Across the office, through the glass walls, a man was watching her. He smiled at her, a flirtatious glint in his eyes as he gave her a nod. Desiree tensed, unsure of how to respond. But before she could do anything, Atticus stepped back into the room.

He froze, his eyes narrowing as he saw the man staring at her. The air in the room changed instantly-darker, colder. Atticus's expression hardened, his jaw clenched.

The guy lowered his head walking away.

"You attract trouble, don't you?" His voice was quiet, but the intensity behind it was unmistakable.

Desiree looked up at him, unsure of what to say. "I didn't do anything-"

"I know," he interrupted, his eyes locking onto hers. "But that doesn't matter. What matters is how you handle it."

He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin. "Yesterday I asked, Would you do it if I told you to?"

Her heart skipped a beat, the weight of his words sinking in. "Do what?" she whispered.

"Anything," he said softly, his voice dark and intoxicating. "Would you obey me without question?"

Desiree swallowed hard, her mind spinning with the implications of his question. He wasn't just asking about today-he was asking about everything. About the future. About her place in his world.

She met his gaze, her breath catching in her throat as she realized what he was really asking. Could she handle this? Could she handle him?

Without breaking eye contact, she nodded. "Yes."

Atticus smirked, satisfied with her answer.