Chapter 43

Leonardo Cooper

It’s been a week since the heated confrontation I had with Gabriel over those damned documents. Since then, he only speaks when absolutely necessary.

He greets me, replies with coldness, and then dives back into his work as if I were invisible. And no matter how hard I try to stay firm, indifferent, this distance has been eating me alive.

I keep up the façade that nothing affects me, but there’s no more peace when he’s around. The absence of his spontaneity, the lack of acidic irony, even the silence heavy with veiled remarks… it all hits me.

Worse still are the moments when, with no apparent intention, he brings the pen to his lips. And then, images of him come to mind in ways I’d rather not describe. Improper fantasies creep in and torment me.

I push the office door open with more force than necessary. The soft creak announces my arrival, but Gabriel is already there, focused on the paperwork. Seated at the desk, he reviews each document with relentless attention.

His eyes scan the lines as if searching for hidden flaws. He doesn’t even lift his head when he notices me.

— Well, there you go. I managed to review it twice — he says, voice firm but stripped of emotion. — I also stayed here to make sure no one tried to sabotage me.

I take a deep breath. His tone irritates and disarms me all at once.

— Still clinging to that theory, Gabriel?

He lifts his eyes, staring at me as if tired of repeating himself.

— I’m not trying to convince you of anything, Leonardo. But it’s curious, isn’t it? Everything I hand in starts going wrong all of a sudden. And always in a way that makes me look incompetent.

I roll my eyes, trying to maintain composure.

— Well… there’s a first time for everything. No one’s infallible.

— I agree — he retorts without hesitation. — But I’m not naïve either. I know when someone’s trying to pull the rug out from under me. But to poison me, one has to be more poisonous than I am.

He pushes the documents toward me. I lean over the desk and glance through the pages. Everything checks out this time. No errors, no inconsistencies. Inside, a part of me relaxes, but I show nothing.

— Everything looks fine — I murmur, trying to sound professional. And then he does something I don’t expect.

He throws the submission contract on the table — the same one I had given him before everything went sideways. The one he had verbally torn apart and left unresolved.

I stay silent for a few seconds, just staring at that paper. A mix of surprise and anticipation pulses within me.

— And your answer?

Gabriel crosses his arms — no, he plants himself firmly, body straight, unblinking — and replies:

— Now you’re interested?

I run a hand over my beard, feeling the heat rise in my face. His provocation hits me straight in the ego.

— Of course I’m interested. I want to know if you plan to accept or not.

He points at the contract.

— After you read the clauses. I changed most of them, removed the absurdities you thought were normal to include, and kept only what makes sense to me.

I pull the document in silence and begin to read. Page by page, I see the changes. Gabriel removed the part where I controlled his departure times, rewrote clauses about his autonomy at work, and even added a requirement: “Mutual respect is mandatory, even in tense situations.”

While I read, he remains there, staring at me, showing no emotion. I know that behind that controlled calm, there’s a mind always on alert.

He doesn’t yield, doesn’t bow. And maybe that’s what attracts me the most: this resistance, this strength that challenges my authority and, at the same time, makes me want him entirely.

I reach the last page. His signature is already there, firm, clear, final.

— So that’s it — I comment, placing the contract back on the table. — You’re accepting… your way.

— The only possible way — he replies, raising an eyebrow. — Or did you really think I’d sign a paper that turns me into a puppet?

I lean slightly forward, not breaking eye contact.

— And why sign it now?

He hesitates. Just for a second. But I see it. I see the doubt, the desire, the restrained longing. I see the man behind the armor.

— Because, despite everything, there’s still part of me that wants to find out where this will lead. And because, even hating the idea, you provoke me more than I’d like to admit.

My heart beats differently. Strong. And dangerously hopeful.

— Well, now we’re two.

He stands up, gathers the contract, and adjusts the folder. When he passes me, his shoulder brushes lightly against mine. It’s quick, almost imperceptible. But enough to reignite every inch of my skin.

As he crosses the door,

I realize the game has truly begun now. And this time, without masks.

The ticking clock on the wall sounds louder than usual. The tic-tac fills the silence like a reminder that time is passing, but my mind is far too lost to care.

I try to return to the open report in front of me, but the words blur. There’s no focus — not with Gabriel here.

He came back a few minutes ago and is now sitting at the desk like nothing happened. As if he hadn’t just signed a contract that, in some way, places him under my will. Under my skin. Just thinking about it makes my blood rush faster.

He arranges some papers, purposely ignoring my presence. But I know he feels it. I know that signature meant more than a mere formality. He’s mine now. Even if he resists. Even if he fights it.

I rise slowly. My steps are firm, silent. I walk to the door, turn the key, lock it. Then, I draw the heavy curtains, blocking the remaining outside light. The room plunges into a soft, intimate dimness, almost indecent. I hear the gentle creak of his chair — he noticed.

— What do you think you’re doing? — he asks, not raising his voice, but tension sharpens his tone.

I turn toward him, arching the corner of my mouth. The smile I give is loaded with intent — the kind that speaks louder than any direct reply.

— What do you think, little goat?

I don’t give space for reaction. In two steps, I’m in front of him. Before he can say another word, I grab the slim tie hanging loosely over his chest and pull with force. His body lifts slightly, a flicker of surprise in his eyes — but there’s also a spark. Desire? Provocation? Defiance? All of it.

My mouth meets his without ceremony. There’s no delicacy in this kiss. It’s dominance. Hunger. Demand. His lips yield first in shock, then in need.

One hand slides to the back of his neck, the other still grips the tie like reins. He breathes hard against my mouth, fingers clenching the arms of the chair.

My body fits between his knees. I feel the tension in his muscles beneath the dress pants. He’s burning. And although he resists, he doesn’t pull away.

When I pull back just enough to look into his eyes, his breath is heavy. Pupils dilated. The cold, sarcastic posture replaced by something raw. Vulnerable and dangerous at once.

— You signed, Gabriel — I whisper, voice hoarse against his face. — Now, you’re mine.

He licks his lips, as if trying to regain composure, but fails when he speaks.

— You’re insane...

— And you love the taste of my madness.

I loosen the tie slowly, pulling it from the collar. He doesn’t look away, but I know he’s trembling inside. He feels it. Trembles like I do. The difference is, he still tries to hide it — while I’ve embraced this obsession far too long.

I lean in again, this time slowly, letting my breath touch his skin. My nose brushes his jawline. I hear the sound he tries to suppress in his throat.

— You can back away anytime... — I murmur near his ear. — But you won’t.

Gabriel closes his eyes, fingers gripping the chair arms. He says nothing. He doesn’t need to.

The tension between us is like a rope stretched to the limit. One wrong move could break everything. Or set it on fire.

And I, who spent the whole week pretending I could keep pretending, am ready to break every rule I ever wrote in this game. Because now, wit

h him there, trapped in front of me and unmasked… there’s no turning back.

Only desire.

And desire, with me, never comes gently.