“Kester-
“You should be grateful,” he cut in, his voice becoming lethal instantly. “Burning that dress was the only thing I did, Kasmine. Don’t remind me of the other actions I was supposed to take last night.” I stiffened, the anger in his eyes passing on the perfect message.
I swallowed, dropping my gaze, suddenly hyper-aware of the anger crackling beneath his calm.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Kester hummed as he flipped through the dresses in my closet, his fingers trailing over the fabric like he owned them-because, in truth, he did. Every single piece in this wardrobe had been picked out and bought by him.
“Picking out something for you to wear,” he replied without glancing at me.
I knitted my brows in confusion, “Since when do you pick out my clothes for work?”
His shirk returned as he pulled a dress from the rack and turned to face me. “Since now.”
Kester held up the dress, letting the fabric slip through his fingers like it was something precious. The moment my eyes landed on it, my stomach dropped.
A small, red flair dress.
It stopped well above the lavees. It was beautiful, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was him.
I knew Kester.
I swallowed hard, “You never let me wear something like this to work.”
His gaze flicked to mine, dark amusement swirling in those deep-set eyes. “And yet, this is what I want you to wear today.”
I didn’t move, and Kester didn’t like that.
With a slow step, he closed the space between us and placed the dress in my hands, his fingers brushing against mine. He leaned in, sniffing me in, “Make sure to wear one of those sweet, seductive perfumes I got for you,” he murmured, “The one with jasmine and vanilla.”
I shivered.
“That’s how I want you to smell today, Kasmine.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, my fingers curling around the dress with my heart hammering against my ribs.
His touch lingered for a moment too long before he turned back to my closet, flipping through the neatly arranged clothes again.
He pulled out something else, and I became genuinely concerned about what he was up to.
A pair of panties… A lacy red thong.
He handed it to me, his eyes watching my face like he was waiting for my reaction.
My fingers trembled as I reached for it, a flare of heat burning through me. “Kester…?”
“Put this on underneath,” he said casually, like he was asking ine to wear a jacket, not the most scandalous undergear in my drawer.
My face flamed.
“This dress is too short,” I said, gripping the thong tightly. “Anyone would be able to see my nakedness even without trying too hard.”
Kester’s lips curled into a slow smirk that did wicked things to my pulse. He tilted his head, studying me. “Then make sure you carry yourself cautiously at work all day.”
My breath caught.
The bastard.
He was enjoying this.
I hated him for it.
But what I hated more was how my body reacted-the way heat called in my stomach and my skin prickled under his gaze.
Without another word, he turned, crossing the room with that effortless grace of his, stopping by my shoe rack.
He crouched slightly, plucked a pair of stilettos from the neatly arranged rows, and straightened, holding them up for me to see.
Black.
High.
Deadly.
He ran a finger over the sleek heels before handing them to me. “These would go with the dress.”
I hesitated before taking them. He didn’t bother paying so much attention to me after that as he reached for the door. But then, he paused.
I should have known he wasn’t done.
His hand rested against the doorframe, and he glanced over his shoulder, “I trust you know your hair would be. better in a high ponytail,” Kester said, but before I could protest, he turned around and stepped closer, fingers grazing my jaw, tilting my chin up until our eyes locked. “No… scratch that. I want it in a twisted half-updo. Loose strands framing your face-just enough to remind me exactly how delicate you are…”
He paused and planted the most sensual kiss on my lips. A kiss that was gone even before I had the chance to react. “…Because, each time I am around you, Mine, I am always tempted to break you.”
KASMINE
“By the gods, Kasmine!” Claire shrieked the moment I stepped onto the premises, “You look absolutely mouthwatering!”
I rolled my eyes. She was always too dramatic – or so I thought – but when I walked into the ground reception, I felt all eyes on me.
“Claire, keep it down,” I muttered, tugging at the hem of my dress as I quickened my pace. “You’re drawing attention.”
“No, sweetheart, you’re the one commanding attention.” She laughed with a teasing lilt in her voice. “And, my dear, you deserve every second of it.”
I looked around, and thankfully, Kester had stopped outside to speak with Mr. Edward about Sylvia’s replacement. I didn’t wait to pay attention to it because a part of me still feels guilty for Sylvia’s displacement.
I had tried to talk to Kester about it, but he was adamant, saying there was no place for her at Zamford anymore.
I turned to Claire as we strode toward the elevators. “I’m so sorry again for canceling our weekend,” I apologized, and guilt wore me a fine robe at how innocently she took the apology.
She waved it off with a grin, “It’s fine. I am relieved to see you are okay,” she replied, and I wondered why fate would connect me with people who are absolutely amazing like Claire, June, and Jake, who I continuously hurt without even thinking.
I forced a smile, desperate to feel like less of a terrible person. “We could reschedule. This weekend, maybe?” I suggested, just to make myself feel better.
Claire let out an awkward little chuckle, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Uh… actually, I have a date this weekend.”
I blinked. “A date?”
The elevator doors slid open, and we stepped inside.
“Yeah, finally, right?” she giggled, a light blush creeping up her cheeks.
A rush of relief washed over me, so sudden and overwhelming I nearly stumbled in my heels.
It was a good thing she was gradually getting over Kester. Maybe I’d feel less guilty about our forbidden affair. “Who is he?” I asked, and for the first time all morning, I felt the corners of my lips lift into something genuine. “You’ll get to know in due time, baby,” she couldn’t hide her excitement. One would think she could only be this excited if Kester had been the one to ask her on a date. But here she was, giggling like a teenager over another man’s proposal.
I was happy either way.
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