His Slave

48. Fight

As we walk, a cluster of other Persona Industries employees swarm us, trying to talk to James, shoving paperwork and figures in his face. He ignores them all, abruptly pushing past them. When we reach his office he yanks me inside before slamming the door shut.

"I'm not dealing with those idiots today," he says, falling back onto the sofa, pulling me into his lap.

"They need you," I reply, running my fingers through his hair.

He scoffs. "They need to find some goddamn brain cells," he counters.

I laugh. "I love you so much," I tell him softly before kissing him.

James tangles his fingers in my hair as we kiss. His tongue touches my lips, demanding entry.

I let him in, moaning as I knot my fingers in his thick black hair.

He finally pulls away to regain his breath. "I love you too," he tells me, his words a tender whisper between us.

Just then, there's a knock at the door and James kisses my cheek before sliding me off his lap.

"Come in," he calls, taking his seat at his desk.

I pull out the book I brought with me, flipping to where I left off as the door opens. I can't help glance up, noticing the older man that steps into James' office.

He's dressed in a fine suit, his cruel green eyes fixed on James as he storms into his office.

"I tried to call you five more times yesterday!" He snaps indignantly.

Anger flickers in James' violet eyes and I wince, anticipating the coming fight.

"My answer is no. There is nothing further to discuss," James snaps back.

The man, who I'm assuming is Charles Underly, throws his hands out in exasperation. "You are an impertinent brat who's too young to understand how the world works!" Mr. Underly hisses.

James shoots out of his chair, standing taller than Mr. Underly does. "Excuse me?" He demands, folding his arms over his chest.

This is gonna get ugly. I contemplate going to get security, but I can't bring myself to move from my seat. It's like I'm glued to a television screen, unable to look away.

"We don't have time to try talking to them," Mr. Underly says like he's speaking to a child.

"We don't have time to come up with another plan. This is what we have to work with and I need you to see that!" He spits.

James shakes his head. "I won't ever see your side. Your plans are demented and sick and my company will have no hand in them!" He spits back.

Mr. Underly narrows his eyes at James. "I was right. She's made you soft," he spits, jabbing a finger in James' direction.

I don't mean for it to, but a small gasp escapes my throat as I realize he's talking about me.

Mr. Underly freezes and turns then, just now realizing that I'm in the room. "Oh. Miss Ricoletti," he starts, clearly flustered by my presence. He smooths his hair and gives me a fake smile.

"Why don't you go get yourself a cup of coffee," he tells me, obviously not wanting me to hear what he has to say.

"Don't tell her what to do," James hisses at him, ominously looming over his desk as he glares at Mr. Underly.

"This is not a conversation for her ears," Mr. Underly counters.

James shakes his head. "She knows everything. If you have something to say to me, you're going to say it with her in the room," he says through gritted teeth.