Jean’s heart began pounding heavily in her chest as Michael peered deep into her eyes, an icy grin on his face.
He still held on to her hand, his hand squeezing tightly.
“Surprised to see me, Jean?
Why aren’t you saying anything?” He asked, still towering over her.
Jean had no idea what to say.
She did not know whether to beg, to cry, to run, or to scream.
She knew that she could not run; his tight grip on her hand made sure of that, and the way he squeezed it made her know that whatever thing he might’ve felt for her before, on that night when they had shared a room and ignited a wildfire inside each other, it was long gone.
All that remained now was the cold, cruel man standing in front of her.
Jean had heard of the Apex Designs CEO.
He was ruthless and cold.
Jean did not know a lot about business, but she knew that if the news said a businessman was ruthless, then he was ruthless indeed and would let nothing stand in the way of getting what he wanted.
Michael gripped her hand even tighter and Jean let out a sharp gasp.
She looked up into cold blue eyes.
“I much rather prefer the talkative Jean.
I don’t like you being quiet.” He said smoothly.
Jean remained quiet, unable to take her eyes off him.
Despite the situation that she was in, she still found him beautiful, and her body reacted in a way that was not proper.
She wanted him again, despite herself.
She gave herself a mental scolding for thinking like that before finally speaking.
“I… I’m sorry.” Jean whispered.
Michael lowered his head so that his nose was just about two inches away from hers.
She could smell him; he smelled of fresh mints and vanilla, the exact way he was on that night she had met him.
“What was that?” He asked, his breath smelling of coffee.
She wanted to kiss him.
“What did you say, Jean?” “I said I’m sorry,” Jean repeated, more audibly this time.
Michael’s smile grew, and then he released her hand before walking over to the sitting area and taking the sofa that backed the shelf.
Jean refused the urge to massage her sweaty and sore palm and instead watched as Michael graciously made his way to the sofa.
After sitting, he gestured for her to take the sofa opposite him.
Jean moved slowly, and she noticed as Michael’s eyes scrutinized every inch of her body, lingering a while on the spot where her skirt stopped.
She should feel flattered, but the only thing she could feel was fear.
She had no idea what Michael wanted, or why he had felt the need to get her to come to his office, especially in the manner that he did it.
He had lied about knowing her father, lied about offering her a job, all of that just to get her to come here when he could just come find her or arrange for her to be brought to him, since he was rich enough.
He must be a sick person.
Jean thought to herself.
“Why did you take it?” Michael asked suddenly.
He leaned back in the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, his blue eyes never leaving hers.
Jean remained quiet for a while, not having the slightest idea what to say to the man who sat in front of her.
She considered for a moment that she could appeal to his human nature and fall to her knees, crying and begging, telling him of all the things she had to endure as an orphan living with her aunt, what she had to do to survive with Jeff.
She could tell him all of that and beg him to forgive her, and he might… Or he might not.
Jean wondered what she would do if he asked her to pay back the money she had stolen.
They’d already spent more than half of it; there was no way they would be able to pay it back.
That would leave her with no other choice but to go to prison.
Her life was already a mess, but surprisingly, the thought of potentially going to prison did not scare Jean like she thought it would.
She would miss Jeff; she would miss him so much, but there was not much she could do.
“I… I needed the money.” “Did you?” He asked, clearly amused.
Jean nodded.
“You had no idea I was with money, did you?” Jean let out a small sigh and lowered her eyes to the rug, unable to look into his eyes.
“I saw the watch.
You said it was a family heirloom, so I figured you must be rich… somewhat.” Michael did nothing but watch her.
“I only took the watch.
I decided to check for some change when… when I saw the money.” He unfolded his legs and leaned forward.
“You’re a clever thief, aren’t you?
And this is something you do often, isn’t it?
Sleep with men for money or get them drunk so you rob them?” Filled with shame, Jean could do nothing but nod.
“Well, you won’t be doing that anymore.
I have a proposal for you.” Jean could feel her heart racing with each passing second.
She wondered what Michael’s proposal was, but she could not ask.
He was in control here, and she was just a rabbit cornered by a lion.
She felt small and overpowered.
“Aren’t you curious as to what my proposal is?” Michael asked after a while.
“I am,” Jean answered quietly.
“Marriage.”