Hadley’s POV
Dorian pressed a glass of water into my shaking hands.
The cool liquid did nothing to stop the tremors running through my body.
I didn’t even notice the tears streaming down my cheeks until Rowan’s thumb gently brushed them away.
“Breathe, Hadley.
Ashcroft can’t touch you now.
I won’t let you lose your position because of that pathetic excuse for a man.” His voice carried steel beneath its gentleness, his hand moving in soothing circles across my back.
“He’s absolutely right, Hadley.
Ashcroft is nothing but a waste of space.
You’re tougher than he’ll ever be, so don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you rattled,” Dorian added, his usual playfulness replaced by genuine concern.
“Since when did you decide you could use pet names for my assistant without permission?”
“Since we became friends, you possessive bastard.
And quit acting like such a territorial boss!”
Their ridiculous argument made me laugh—wet and shaky, but real—which seemed to be exactly what they intended.
Rowan rose and tilted my chin upward, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Maybe not territorial,” he murmured with that infuriating smirk that made my pulse race.
“But definitely possessive.” Why did he have to look like a Greek god while saying things like that?
“Dear God, you two are dancing around each other like idiots!” Dorian threw his hands up.
“But Hadley, I was just telling your brooding boss that I’ve secured reservations for tonight.
No backing out—we’re treating two incredible women to an evening at Hawthorne.
It’s Evangeline’s favorite spot, and you’re going to adore it.
Though I have no clue why you’d think Rowan would object to you joining us.”
“Object?
I’m looking forward to having Hadley there tonight more than you know,” Rowan replied, his voice dropping to that husky tone that sent heat racing through my veins.
“Besides, they serve the most decadent chocolate cake in the city, Hadley.”
“What is your obsession with chocolate cake today?” Dorian squinted at him.
“I spotted the empty plate on your desk this morning, watched you devour another slice during the video conference, and now you’re planning dessert for tonight?
Keep this up and you’ll lose that perfect physique, pretty boy.”
“What can I say?
I’ve developed quite the craving for chocolate cake lately.” Rowan’s wicked grin was aimed directly at me, and my cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
A sharp knock interrupted, and Evangeline swept in with Brenna behind her.
“Hadley, sweetheart, are you holding up okay?
Ashcroft has always been revolting, but this crosses every line, Rowan.” Evangeline’s voice vibrated with barely contained fury.
“I’m managing, Evangeline, but thank you for caring.
It was disgusting and completely blindsided me, but I’ll survive it,” I answered, squeezing her offered hand gratefully.
“Evangeline, I guarantee this won’t happen again.
But tell me—does Ashcroft treat other staff members with the same disrespect?” Rowan’s question carried a dangerous undertone.
“Disrespect doesn’t begin to cover it!
He’s vicious, degrading, abusive, and completely without boundaries.
He’s a monster, Rowan.
I understand your reasons for keeping him employed, but everyone forced to deal with him is reaching their breaking point,” Evangeline shot back, her anger palpable.
Rowan grabbed his phone and activated the speaker.
Brenna will provide authorized personnel names.
Create elevator access codes for Dorian, Orson, Hadley, Evangeline, Brenna, and myself exclusively.
All other employees require Brenna’s explicit approval.
Anyone else needs direct authorization from a code holder.
The elevator should only reach this floor with proper credentials.
Lock the emergency stairwell door from our side as well.
Schedule a company meeting to announce the new measures.”
“Understood, sir.
Implementation begins immediately.”
Rowan disconnected and surveyed our group with satisfaction.
“Does everyone understand the new system?
This should eliminate the more aggressive troublemakers.
Brenna, you’re dismissed.
Thank you for your assistance.”
After Brenna departed, Dorian enthusiastically described the dinner plans to Evangeline.
We spent the next several minutes talking and laughing as Dorian dramatically recounted how Rowan had confronted Ashcroft and transformed into my knight in shining armor—complete with impressions, theatrical commentary, and a recreation of Ashcroft’s wheedling voice that was devastatingly accurate.
His storytelling skills were absolutely hilarious, and by the end even the tightness in my throat had loosened enough for genuine laughter.
Later that evening, long after the laughter had faded, I sat by my window and watched the city lights blur in the rain.
The memory of Rowan’s protective fury still resonated deep in my bones, a terrifying kind of safety I hadn’t known I was craving.
For the first time in years, the fortress I had built around my heart felt unnecessary, and the realization left me both breathless and profoundly vulnerable.
Every careful wall was beginning to fracture, one brick at a time.