Chapter 88 Chapter 88
Bratt cleared his throat, respectfully averting his gaze, feeling like an intruder in a sacred moment.
“P-President Wolf.” He walked over to the desk, extending the folder with both hands, but keeping his eyes downcast. “This is the latest revenue report you requested.”
“Hmm.” Nicholas took the document, his expression returning to impassive, though his hand still absentmindedly caressed Caroline's waist. “Notify all departments. Work ends an hour early today.”
Bratt blinked, stunned. Did he hear that right?
He raised his head reflexively, forgetting decorum. “Work... ends early? Today?”
Was he dreaming? President Wolf, the workaholic who lived in the office, was letting the team go?
“Why the surprise?” Nicholas raised an eyebrow, his tone cold, but Bratt swore he saw a glimmer of satisfaction in those eyes. “Would you rather work overtime?”
Bratt looked at his boss, then at Caroline—who had her face buried in her husband's shoulder, trying to disappear—and understanding struck him like a bolt of lightning.
Ah... the power of love.
Indeed, love worked miracles. Even Nicholas Wolf had been tamed. He seemed more... human. More alive.
This was the first time in the company's history that they would leave before sunset. And all thanks to that shy woman in the boss's lap. Bratt resisted the urge to thank Caroline.
“No, sir! No way!” Bratt replied quickly, barely containing his enthusiasm. “I'll let them know right now. Thank you, President.”
“Hmm. You may go.”
Nicholas dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
Bratt practically ran to the door, closing it gently behind him, eager to spread the good news.
Silence reigned again in the office. Only the sound of Caroline's breathing and the turning of pages.
Nicholas turned his attention back to the report, reading the complex numbers as if he weren't holding a person's weight.
Caroline remained stiff for a few seconds, but the warmth of his body was relaxing. Eventually, she loosened up a little, but the situation was still awkward.
“Can you let me go now?” she whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt.
The man looked up from the document to her, a lazy smile on his lips. “Hm? Why?”
“You're working...” Caroline pointed to the report. “I'll get in your way. You need to concentrate.”
“You don't get in my way. On the contrary.”
Nicholas closed the folder and set it aside, focusing all his attention on her.
Caroline's heart skipped a beat.
“I'm much more efficient when you're here,” he murmured, holding her a little tighter, as if she were his source of energy. “Sweetheart, let me hold you just a little longer. If I work this fast... I'll be able to leave early. And then I'll have all my free time to devote exclusively to you.”
Caroline was speechless, her face burning under his intense gaze.
Nicholas traced a gentle path through her hair with his fingers, a repetitive and soothing gesture, before turning his attention back to the documents.
He resumed his work with frightening efficiency, but the atmosphere in the office had changed. His previously cold seriousness now brought Caroline a sense of security.
He stopped teasing her, allowing the rhythmic sound of his breathing and the scratching of his pen to lull her.
Caroline, feeling protected against his broad chest, surrendered to exhaustion and fell asleep again.
(...)
When she opened her eyes, the scene had changed.
The scent of sandalwood was still there, and so was the warmth of his body, but they were no longer in the office. The world outside rushed by through the tinted glass of a luxury car.
She rubbed her eyes, confused, and looked at the urban landscape of São Paulo sliding by the window.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Her naturally sweet voice came out slurred and hoarse from sleep. That sleepy, vulnerable tone hit Nicholas like a physical blow. He found her unbearably adorable.
Instead of answering, he lifted her chin slightly, capturing her lips in a deep, demanding kiss.
Caroline was taken by surprise. The kiss was not gentle; it was a claim.
He explored her mouth with an intensity that made her mind spin, stealing all the air from her lungs. When she felt she was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, he finally released her, but only by a few millimeters.
He rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. His arm tightened possessively around her waist.
“I've taught you so many times...” he whispered, his voice hoarse and vibrant with desire. “And you still haven't learned to breathe while I kiss you? It looks like we're going to need a lot of private lessons to correct that.”
Caroline was speechless, her face burning a vivid shade of scarlet.
The “training sessions” were far too frequent!
This man was insatiable. He kissed her every time he saw her, as if he needed it to live. And he didn't know what a “peck” was; he turned into a hungry predator, kissing her so intensely that she feared she would suffocate in his arms.
In the front seat, José, the driver, kept his eyes fixed on the road, but a discreet smile curved his lips as he peeked in the rearview mirror.
The Wolf Company's “ice block” had melted. The boss not only touched a woman, but acted like a teenager in love. His disorder seemed to have been cured by the medicine called Caroline.
(...)
Ten minutes later.
The black Rolls-Royce glided smoothly to a stop in front of an elite private club, whose facade exuded exclusivity and old money.
Nicholas got out of the car, his imposing posture returning instantly. He held out his hand to Caroline.
She hesitated for a second, intimidated by the surroundings, but as soon as her fingers touched his palm, Nicholas intertwined his fingers firmly, refusing to let her escape.
Under the reverent guidance of the club manager, they entered. The place was quiet, decorated with original artwork, and smelled of expensive cigars and aged whiskey.
As they walked down the carpeted hallway, Nicholas leaned toward her: “Hiago and Luan are already waiting for us in the private room.”
Caroline's stomach knotted.
They were his friends. People from Nicholas Wolf's inner circle.
Everyone there knew each other, shared stories and status. She was the only stranger, the piece that didn't fit into the high society puzzle.
She had no idea if she would know what to say or how to act. What if she embarrassed him?