Chapter 4

Within five minutes, the red marks on my wrist had deepened into a violent purple bruise.

I didn’t return to the operations bullpen; instead, I walked straight to the staff locker room.

Tonight’s corporate gala was being held at The Pierre, and as an intern abruptly drafted into service as the Chairman's temporary "personal assistant," I didn't even have the luxury of a refusal.

Dominic’s tyranny was a suffocating net. Now that his suspicion was piqued, he was keeping me close enough to strip away my defenses, layer by layer.

Inside my locker hung a spare, utilitarian black uniform. A…