Chapter 17 Chapter 17
The next morning came far too soon.
The doorbell echoed through the quiet house. Zarlia groaned, rolling over and burying her head in the pillow. Whoever it was clearly didn’t understand the concept of weekends—the ringing only growing louder and when that wasn’t enough, a sharp knock came along with the ringing.
“Ugh”, she muttered, swinging her legs off the bed. Her hair was a wild tangle, and the oversized T-shirt she wore—Stetson’s, because she’d had nothing else to sleep in—hung loosely off one shoulder.
Still half asleep, she shuffled to the front door, rubbing her eyes. “I swear, if this isn’t life and death…” she mumbled, pulling it open.
Two pairs of eyes blinked back at her—Luke and Nelly’s.
Both froze.
Zarlia’s brain took a full three seconds to process what was happening before her own eyes widened in horror. “Oh no”
Luke coughed awkwardly into his fist, through his expression gave him away, “Good morning, Miss Shaw”. Her face burned. “It’s not what you think!”, she waved her hand defensively.
Before either could respond, a familiar deep voice came from behind her. “Morning Zee. You’re up early”, Stetson said casually, running a hand through his damp hair as he approached. “Didn’t see you when I woke up”.
Zarlia’s stomach dropped. Why did he have to sound so casual?
He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead—a simple gesture, bt it made her pulse stumble. Then he turned to Luke and Nelly like nothing was amiss.
“Morning”, he greeted smoothly.
Nelly was grinning now, trying and failing to look professional. Luke cleared his throat again. “We came to submit the file and brief you on Edwin’s offer, sir”
“Of course,” Stetson said, already stepping aside. “Come in”
Zarlia wanted to sink into the floor, preferably forever. She turned to make a quick escape back to the guest room but Stetson caught her wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked without looking at her.
“I—uh—to get dressed”, she said, lowering her voice.
“You’re my secretary”, he replied simply, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll be part of the briefing”. She looked down at the oversized shirt swallowing her frame. “But I’m wearing—”
“It’s fine”, he said, already walking off toward his study.
Fine? He brain screamed, nothing about this is fine!
Still, she followed him into the office, keeping her head down as Luke and Nelly sat across from Stetson’s desk. She stood just behind him, fidgeting with the hem of the T-shirt, trying not to think about how ridiculous she looked.
Luke began the presentation, his tone impressively composed. “Mr Vale informed us that Edwin’s Corporation extended an official proposal. They’ll be hosting a gala next week to finalize the terms”.
Nelly chimed in, her voice chipper. “They expect your attendance, sir. It’ll be the perfect opportunity to accept or reject the offer in person. Plus, the CEO of Fall line industry would be attending, it’ll be a chance to meet with him”
“Understood”, Stetson said smoothly, leaning back in his chair.
Meanwhile, Zarlia kept her eyes firmly fixed on the floor, praying no one noticed how her face was the color of fire.
The briefing was finally over after about 30 minutes.
The front door shut behind Luke and Nelly, and the moment their car engine faded from the driveway, Zarlia turned on her heel, pressed her back to the door, and slid down dramatically until she hit the floor with a soft thud.
“Oh my God,” she groaned into her hands. “It’s over. My career is over.”
Stetson, who had just loosened his tie and was flipping through the file Luke left behind, barely looked up—tried not to look up at least, the sight of her in his shirt was maddening.
Zarlia peeked through her fingers at him. “Why would you say that? Why would you sound so… casual, like we—like we had sex together!” she cried, waving her arms in frustration. “They’re going to tell everyone!”
He turned a page. “You did spend the night here and we have had sex,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Not like that! I was drunk!” she shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You know exactly what I mean!”
The memory of their night together flooded his mind, images of her naked and vulnerable beneath him suddenly made the air suffocating around him. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that, at least not right now and Asher wasn’t making it any easier.
He finally looked up, expression calm, eyes unreadable. “You’re overreacting.”
“I am not overreacting!” She got up so fast she nearly tripped over herself, pacing the living room. “Do you have any idea how fast rumors spread in the office? By Monday morning, everyone’s going to think I’m—” she threw her hands in the air, “—your girlfriend or something!”
He tilted his head slightly. “And that bothers you?”
“Yes! Of course, it bothers me!” she said, tugging at her hair in frustration. “I’ve worked so hard to keep my reputation clean and now it’s—it’s tarnished because you had to go and say ‘Morning, Zee,’ like we’re in some sort of—some sort of relationship!”
And that was actually his intention. He wanted establish his ownership, seeing her in his clothes looking all rough in the morning made him a bit more possessive than he intended. She was his no matter how hard she tries to deny it.
She stopped pacing long enough to glare at him, expecting him to at least apologize. But he just… stared. Quiet. Watching.
Zarlia blinked. “What?”
He didn’t answer, still seated on the edge of his desk, arms crossed, his eyes tracing her movements with an intensity that made her heartbeat falter.
She huffed, crossing her arms. “Why are you staring at me? This is serious!”
His gaze didn’t waver. Slowly, one corner of his mouth curved. “You’re loud in the mornings.”
Zarlia gawked at him. “That’s what you got from this?”
“Among other things.”
Her jaw dropped. “Unbelievable!”
Stetson’s quiet amusement faded. He shut the file with a deliberate thump and leaned back in his chair, fixing his gaze on her.
“Alright,” he said evenly. “We’re going to establish some rules.”
Zarlia blinked, arms still folded. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He stood, every movement calm and precise — the kind that made her pulse jump despite her irritation. “Rule number one: you do what I say, when I say it.”
Her jaw dropped. What was all this now? She frowned, now he was making rules like a control freak.
“Rule number two,” he continued, ignoring her glare, “you’re not allowed to date anyone else.” Her eyebrows shot up. “I—what?”
“Rule number three: your curfew is 8 p.m. sharp.”
“Curfew?” she repeated, voice rising.
He nodded, completely serious. “And rule number four: if you need anything—food, clothes, space—you ask me. Don’t hide things.”
There was a long, stunned silence. Then, slowly, Zarlia’s expression shifted from disbelief to outrage.
She marched up to his desk, planted both palms flat on it, and leaned forward. Bang.
“Are you out of your mind?” she snapped. “You can’t just—boss me around like I’m some pet you adopted!”
His eyes glinted, faintly amused again. “You live under my roof. That makes it my responsibility.” Technically, he forced her into the house, it was never her decision, and now he’s making up stupid rules.
“I don’t care if it’s your roof or the White House,” she shot back. “I can do whatever I want.”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t raise his voice — which only made her more irritated. “You’re mine, Zarlia. I’m just setting boundaries.”
Her heartbeat spiked. “Boundaries?” she scoffed. “You mean control.” He had already crossed those so-called boundaries when he spoke like they were in a relationship in front of Luke and Nelly.
He started to speak, but she cut him off, straightening her back and crossing her arms. “You seem to be forgetting something, Alpha,” she said, the word rolling off her tongue like a challenge. “I haven’t agreed to be your Luna yet. So, if you want me to follow your rules, you’ll have to earn it.”
That got his attention. His expression hardened slightly, but she was on a roll now.
“I like her”, Asher’s voice came faint and low in Stetson’s mind.
“And since we’re talking about rules,” she continued, moving around his desk and hopping up to sit on the edge, legs crossed. “I have a few of my own.”
He raised a brow. “Do you now?”
“Yep.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “No touching without my permission. No surprises—like this morning. And definitely no bossing me around like I’m your little servant.”
His eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You think I’ll follow your rules?”
She met his stare head-on. “You think I’ll follow yours?”
For a long moment, neither spoke. The air between them pulsed with challenge and something else neither wanted to name.
Finally, Stetson exhaled, low and sharp. “We’ll see.”
“Yeah, we will,” she said, sliding off the desk and straightening her shirt.
Then, before he could respond, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the office, her footsteps echoing through the hall.
The door slammed behind her.
Stetson stood there for a moment, staring at it, jaw tight. Then, with a faint smirk tugging at his lips, he muttered, “Stubborn woman.”