Chapter 273: The Fight

Holly’s POV

David and Norman.

The shouting hit us like a shockwave.

Amber and I exchanged one wide-eyed look before we were both moving…drawn toward the noise the way people are drawn to car crashes. The entire floor seemed to tilt in that direction. Phones were already out, screens glowing, fingers hovering over record buttons.

No one was pretending not to watch.

By the time we reached the glass wall outside Norman’s office, a small crowd had formed.

People stood in loose clusters, whispering furiously, eyes darting between the two men inside like they were watching a live episode of a reality show they’d never expected to star in.

Inside, Norman and David were nose-to-nose.

Norman’s face was flushed red, tie yanked loose. David looked carved from ice except for the dangerous glitter in his eyes.

“—you’re seeing dollar signs that aren’t there,” David was saying, voice low and lethal. “It’s a mirage. The numbers don’t hold up under scrutiny. We take this deal, we’re looking at six months of bleeding cash before the whole thing collapses.”

Norman slammed both palms on his desk. “And I’m telling you the upside is massive. We’ve been conservative for years. This is the kind of swing that puts us in a different league. You’re scared of risk now? Since when?”

“I’m not scared of risk. I’m scared of stupidity.”

The word hung in the air like smoke.

Norman laughed…short and bitter. “That’s rich coming from you. Always have to be the smartest guy in the room. Always have to be the final boss. Maybe if you trusted anyone else’s judgment for once—”

“Friendship doesn’t mean blind loyalty,” David cut in. “We have to exhaust our options before taking a risk like that.”

“Exhaust our options? Like you exhausted yours with your family when…”

He didn’t finish.

Before anyone could blink, David’s fist cracked across Norman’s jaw.

The sound was sickening…wet, sharp, unmistakable.

Norman staggered. David didn’t give him time to recover. He swung again, connecting with Norman’s cheekbone. Blood bloomed instantly.

The office exploded into chaos.

People gasped. Someone yelped. Phones came up higher.

Amber grabbed my arm. “Holy shit.”

I didn’t think.

I just moved.

Two guys from sales…Marcus and Leo…were already pushing through the door. I slipped between them and dashed inside.

“Stop it!” I shouted. “David—stop!”

Norman was swinging back now…wild, furious. One punch caught David in the ribs. David grunted but didn’t slow down. They crashed into the bookshelf; papers, a coffee mug, a framed award all went flying.

Marcus and Leo grabbed Norman from behind. I threw myself at David, wrapping both arms around his waist from the side.

“David…enough! Come with me. Now.”

He was breathing hard, chest heaving, knuckles split and bleeding.

For a second I thought he wouldn’t listen.

Then he let me pull him.

I dragged him backward toward the door while Amber rushed in to help steady Norman. She was already barking orders at people to clear the office, pick up the mess, and give them space.

Norman was still yelling over Marcus’s shoulder.

“You’re too proud, David! Too fucking selfish! You think you’re the only one who can see the future? Take the deal or don’t…but if anything about the company goes south, it’s on you. I won’t let this company go down because of your ego!”

David wrenched out of my grip, spun around, pointed a bloody finger at Norman.

“Fine. Take the deal. But when it falls through…and it will…it’s all on you. I won’t let this company sink with your reckless bullshit.”

Norman spat blood onto the carpet. “And if it succeeds? My team reaps the rewards. You get nothing.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

They both stormed in opposite directions…Norman toward the back exit, David toward our shared office. The hallway parted like the Red Sea.

I hurried after David, heels clicking too loud in the sudden hush.

Inside my head: This is insane. They’re bosses. Co-CEOs. Grown men. Fighting like teenagers in front of the entire staff. How are we supposed to respect either of them after this?

David shoved into his office and slammed the door so hard the frosted glass rattled.

I didn’t hesitate.

I grabbed the first-aid kit from the supply closet…same one I’d used after a party paper-cut incident..and followed.

The second I stepped inside, I shut the door behind me and turned.

David was right there.

In my face.

So close I could smell the copper on his knuckles and the sharp edge of his cologne mixed with sweat.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” he muttered, looking like someone who is possessed.

Then his mouth crashed onto mine.

The first-aid kit slipped from my fingers and hit the carpet with a thud.

At first I pushed against his chest. “David…someone could come in—”

He reached behind me without breaking the kiss, locked the door, then yanked the blinds down in one violent sweep. The room plunged into soft, filtered gray.

“Can’t wait,” he growled against my lips. “I’m losing my mind.”

He looked… wrecked.

Eyes wild. Pupils blown. Shoulders trembling. Like someone who’d been dosed with something he couldn’t fight.

He shrugged off his shirt…buttons popping, fabric hitting the floor…and pulled me against him. Skin to skin. Heat to heat.

What happened next was fast. Rough. Desperate.

He backed me toward the leather couch. My skirt rode up. His belt clattered open. Hands everywhere…gripping, squeezing, bruising. He pushed me down and followed right behind.

Then, he spread my thighs with his knee.

The sex was wet. Sloppy and dripping. The couch creaked under us as we maintained a rhythm. Skin slapped against skin…loud, obscene, echoing in the small space. He was relentless. Thrusting hard, deep, chasing something he couldn’t name.

His hand slid up. Wrapped around my throat.

Not gentle.

Tight…and my vision tunneled as pleasure and panic twisted together.

I clawed at his wrist and gasped. The edges of the world went black as I couldn’t breathe properly. I fought to slap his hands away but he held on tighter, choking the air out of my lungs.

Right when I thought I might pass out…right when stars burst behind my eyes…he let go.

I jerked away, coughing violently, hand flying to my throat as air rushed in painful gulps.

David froze above me.

“Fuck,” he breathed. He ran both hands through his hair, looking horrified. “I’m sorry. I…shit, Holly, I lost it. I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t speak yet.

I just stared at him.

Then the feeling hit…dirty. Used. Scared.

I scrambled off the couch, legs shaking.

Grabbed my clothes. Thank God nothing was torn today. I yanked everything back on with trembling fingers…skirt, blouse, heels…while he sat there, head tipped back against the couch, eyes closed, chest still heaving.

When I was dressed, he stood.

Walked over and reached for me but I flinched back.

“Don’t,” I said, voice hoarse. “Don’t touch me.”

He dropped his hand while his face looked conflicted…like he didn’t know where to start from to fix whatever just happened.

I turned. Opened the door and walked out.

The hallway was mercifully empty now.

Everyone had scattered…gone back to their seats.

I kept walking.

Inside my head it was a scream…

I don’t mind playing rough. I don’t mind being a little dirty.

But for a second in there… I was actually scared.

Like he would really strangle me.

Like he could.

Like he might not stop.

And just then, Justin’s voice replayed, soft and certain:

“Don’t trust David, Holly. He’s my brother… but be careful.”

Then the other voice…low, muttered, unmistakable…

“I bet your sister isn’t a murderer.”

A chill ran down my spine so hard I almost stumbled.

Who is David Hunt, really?

And what the hell have I just let inside my heart?