Stone Rich: Her 1st Experience

Chapter Eleven: Collision Course

Malaya sat at her desk, the soft hum of her computer and the quiet ticking of the clock the only sounds in the room. Her heart raced as she waited, her eyes flickering between her phone and the papers scattered in front of her. Each second felt like an eternity as she anticipated the next update from the private investigator she'd hired. It had been days of tense surveillance, but so far, nothing concrete had come through. Her entire empire, her legacy, was on the line, and her nerves were shot.

She tapped her pen against the glass desk, biting her lip as she replayed the last conversation she'd had with Dani. Everything seemed to be hanging by a thread, and she couldn't afford any more surprises. Sebastien Stone was a menace, one she hadn't anticipated.

*Damn him,* she thought bitterly. *He's not going to take this from me.*

Just as her thoughts started to spiral, there was a sharp knock at the door. Malaya's heart leapt, her hand reaching for her phone instinctively. Was it the PI? An update? She straightened in her chair and called out, "Come in."

Her assistant, Vanessa, entered, her expression tight. "Malaya," she began cautiously, "you have a visitor."

Malaya frowned, glancing at the clock. She hadn't been accepting visitors for days—too much was at stake, and she couldn't afford distractions, especially with a Stone in her side. Vanessa knew this. "I'm not seeing anyone right now," she replied, irritation creeping into her voice.

Vanessa hesitated, a flicker of apology in her eyes. "I tried to tell him, but—"

Before she could finish, the door swung open wider, and *he* walked in—Sebastien Stone. Tall, imposing, and every bit as smug as she remembered. His presence filled the room, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he owned the place. The air shifted, growing heavier, more charged.

Malaya's breath caught in her throat. *Not him. Not now.*

He strode over to the chair opposite her desk, lowering himself into it with a swagger that had her body instantly on high alert. The way he leaned back, legs casually spread, eyes dark and predatory, it was like he belonged there. Like he was challenging her without saying a word.

Her skin prickled, heat rising uninvited, and she hated herself for it. His confidence was intoxicating, even as it set her on edge. She sat up straighter, gripping the edge of her desk as if to ground herself, forcing the annoyance to stay out of her voice.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Malaya asked, her tone clipped but calm. She leaned forward, her gaze piercing, as if daring him to make his move. Inside, she prayed he didn't know about the PI tailing him, that he hadn't seen the cracks forming beneath her carefully constructed exterior.

Sebastien didn't answer right away. He let his eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her, and Malaya could feel his gaze like a physical touch. Her body betrayed her, a flush creeping up her neck as she fought to keep her composure.

Finally, his lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "I have to admit," he drawled, his voice low and smooth, "I'm impressed, Malaya. You've been keeping me on my toes."

Her phone buzzed on the desk, breaking the tension for a split second. She ignored it, hoping it wasn't the PI calling with the update she so desperately needed. Not now. Not in front of *him*.

But Sebastien's eyes flicked to the phone, his smirk deepening. "Ah, there it is," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "I take it that's the update from the guy you hired to follow me around? You think I didn't notice?"

Malaya's heart skipped a beat, panic shooting through her veins. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but she could feel her pulse racing. How the hell did he know? How long had he known?

Sebastien leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes locked onto hers. "I didn't get this far by not being smart, sweetheart. You're not the first person to try and dig up dirt on me, and you won't be the last."

Before she could respond, he stood up, the chair scraping against the floor, the movement abrupt. Malaya's stomach tightened as he rounded the desk, closing the space between them. She remained seated, forcing herself to stay still, even as her body screamed to retreat. He moved like a predator, caging her in, his tall frame casting a shadow over her.

Sebastien was close—too close. She could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne mixed with something else, something raw and masculine. He towered over her, his hands gripping the edges of her desk, leaning down until their faces were inches apart.

Her breath hitched, her body reacting instinctively to the proximity. Despite the fear and anger simmering beneath the surface, her pulse quickened, and a knot of desire coiled low in her belly.

"You think you can stop me?" he whispered, his voice low, rough. "You think you can keep me from taking what I want?"

Malaya's mind was racing, trying to focus, but all she could think about was how close he was. His scent, his voice—it was clouding her thoughts, making it hard to breathe, let alone think clearly. But she couldn't show weakness. Not now.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, her jaw clenched. "You won't win, Stone," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos inside her. "I'll fight you. I'll protect what's mine."

Sebastien's smile was slow, dangerous. "I've heard that before," he murmured, leaning even closer, so close she could feel his breath on her skin. "But you're not dealing with just anyone, Malaya. I always get what I want."

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she cursed her body's response. She refused to let him see the effect he was having on her. He leaned down further, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice dark and tempting. "And right now, what I want is you."

Her pulse spiked, her heart slamming against her ribs as she fought to keep control. She wouldn't let him get to her. She couldn't. But God, it was getting harder with every second.

Before she could respond, Sebastien straightened, his expression shifting from desire to cold calculation. "You want to know why I'm targeting your company?" he asked, his voice now businesslike, cutting. "It's simple. Power. You built something strong, something valuable. And I want it."

Malaya felt the rage surge inside her, fueled by the arrogance dripping from his words. "Over my dead body," she hissed, standing up to face him head-on. She wasn't backing down—not now, not ever.

Sebastien's eyes gleamed with amusement, as if he enjoyed watching her fight. "We'll see about that," he said, stepping back slightly, though the tension between them didn't ease. "But don't think for a second that I'll go easy on you. I'll take everything, Malaya. And when I do, you'll wish you had played nice."

Malaya's hands balled into fists at her sides, fury and adrenaline coursing through her. She straightened her spine, pushing back the fear that threatened to choke her. "I'm not giving up," she vowed, her voice steady. "I'll stop you by any means necessary."

Sebastien chuckled, the sound dark and foreboding. "Good luck," he said, turning on his heel and walking toward the door, his confidence radiating in every step.

As he left her office, the tension in the room finally broke, leaving Malaya standing there, her heart pounding in her chest. The fight had only just begun. But one thing was clear—this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

And if Sebastien Stone thought he could break her, he was about to learn just how wrong he was.