The Mafia Boss’s Brutal Question Humiliated Her Before Twelve Executives, Then Her Unexpected Answer Unlocked a Dangerous Obsession That Changed Both Their Lives Forever
CHAPTER 2
The sharp metallic hum of the executive elevator felt like a countdown to my own execution as the LED display ticked down to the sub-basement. My heart hammered against my ribs, sending cold shockwaves through my limbs while the quiet murmur of Fifth Avenue faded into silence.
Ronan Moratini stood beside me, his broad shoulders easily blocking out the ambient light of the polished steel elevator car. His signature cologne—a mixture of dark cedar, crisp rain, and heavy tobacco—filled the enclosed space, making it nearly impossible for me to catch a full breath.
"You look like you're about to faint, Miss Carter," Ronan remarked quietly without turning his head to face me. "Did Columbia teach you how to analyze real estate assets, but forget to teach you how to keep your feet planted?"
"I don't usually spend my orientation morning being led into underground parking garages by the chief executive," I managed to say, forcing my voice to stay level despite my trembling hands. "Is this standard procedure for junior analysts at Moratini Holdings?"
A low, dark chuckle escaped his throat as the elevator came to a smooth halt with a soft chime.
"Nothing about your presence in this building will ever be standard, Lena," Ronan said, his deep voice dropping into that dangerous velvet register that set my skin on fire. "And the sooner you accept that reality, the longer you will survive among the wolves."
The heavy steel doors slid open, revealing a private underground bay filled with sleek black SUVs and a single matte-black Italian sports car. Three men in immaculate tailored suits stood near the pillars, their hands resting near their jacket lapels as they bowed their heads respectfully.
Ronan didn't wait for my response; he simply placed his warm, heavy hand on the small of my back, guiding me firmly toward the passenger door. The heat of his palm burned right through my thin linen blazer, making my breath hitch in my throat.
"Where are you taking me, Mr. Moratini?" I asked, stopping right beside the low door frame and looking directly into his stormy grey eyes. "I signed a corporate employment contract, not a transport agreement."
"Your employment contract states that you report directly to the office of the Chairman, Miss Carter," Ronan replied, leaning down until his lips were inches from my ear. "And right now, the Chairman has a meeting across town at the Port Authority docks."
Shock hit me like a bucket of ice water as the realization washed over my mind. He wasn't taking me to a secondary corporate branch or a routine client lunch; he was bringing me directly into the dark underbelly of his private operations.
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"I’m an analyst, not a bodyguard," I whispered, my voice shaking as I gripped my leather portfolio tighter against my chest.
"You are whatever I need you to be," Ronan declared softly, opening the passenger door for me with absolute command. "Now get inside before I decide to carry you."
