Roxanne let out a long, shuddering breath as the heavy oak door finally clicked shut behind the security team.

The lingering scent of Christian’s cologne faded, replaced once more by the sterile, crisp air of the office. She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes for a quiet moment. She was no longer going to tolerate his abuse, and that was final.

Barely twenty minutes later, she had pulled herself back together. She was sitting at her new desk, reviewing a stack of quarterly reports, when a soft, measured knock echoed through the room.

She lifted her gaze, setting down her gold pen. "Come in," she said, smoothing down the front of her dress.

The brass handle twisted, and the door swung open. Richard stepped inside. A small, relaxed smile graced his lips as he closed the door behind him and walked toward her, stopping just on the other side of the mahogany desk.

"Hey," he said softly.

Roxanne didn’t care about corporate etiquette in that moment. She stood up, stepped around the desk, and melted into his arms. Richard held her tightly, his large hand gently stroking the back of her hair as she breathed in the comforting, rich scent of his skin. After a long moment, she pulled back and returned to her chair, feeling grounded again.

Richard crossed his arms, his dark eyes studying her face. "I heard Christian had to be escorted out of here," he said, his baritone serious. "Are you entirely sure you still want him around this building, Roxanne? We can still have him quietly removed from the company. Permanent administrative leave."

"No, let him stay," Roxanne said, shaking her head. She picked up her pen, spinning it between her fingers. "He’s really not important anymore. I’m completely focused on the work now. I don’t want to let anyone down."

"Are you absolutely certain that’s what you want?" he pressed, leaning slightly over the desk.

Roxanne nodded firmly. "Yes. I know he’s going to do whatever he can to try and claw back control over me, but trust me, I can handle him. Now," she said, a small smile returning to her lips as she looked up at him, "tell me what brings the top boss all the way to my office."

Richard’s expression turned serious, his gaze holding hers. "I wanted to personally inform you that there is an exclusive board dinner tonight. All the top stakeholders and international affiliates connected to Vance Enterprises have been flown in." He paused, his voice dropping an octave. "And every single one of them wants to meet the newest member of the executive board."

Roxanne’s heart skipped a beat, a sudden wave of nerves tightening her stomach. "Are they the same people you mentioned before? The ones from your private circle?"

"Some of them," Richard replied. "You will definitely be meeting a few people whose opinions mean everything to me."

Roxanne’s pulse began to thud louder in her ears. She looked away, staring out at the massive city skyline through the glass window. "Richard, I’m worried. What if I’m not what they expect?"

Richard didn’t answer with words. Instead, he walked around the desk, perched on the edge of the wood right beside her, and reached down to take her hand. His long fingers wrapped securely around her trembling ones, his touch warm and steady.

"There is absolutely nothing to be worried about," he said, his tone low and fierce. "You just need to stay by my side at all times tonight. You only have one job tonight."

Roxanne frowned. "What job?"

"Be yourself," Richard replied.

Roxanne looked up into his eyes, absorbing his confidence until her shoulders relaxed. "Fine," she said, letting out a sharp exhale.

Richard smiled, squeezing her hand one last time before standing up and smoothing his tailored suit. "A garment bag will be delivered to your office shortly. I want you to wear what’s inside," he said, heading toward the door. "There will be a lot of traditionalists at this dinner who want to question why we chose you. The answer needs to come first from your appearance."

Roxanne frowned slightly, a tiny sting of frustration in her chest. "Will I always have to keep proving myself to your world?"

Richard paused at the door, turning back to look at her with a soft, knowing gaze. "No. Just tonight." He gave her a reassuring nod. "Enjoy the rest of your first day at work. I’ll see you later."

Roxanne nodded, watching him slip out of the office. Once she was alone, she clutched her chest, feeling the rapid flutter of her heart. A small shadow of doubt tried to creep into her mind, but she shook her head fiercely, clearing it away.

"I belong here," she whispered to the quiet room.

—

Later that evening, the smooth purr of Roxanne’s sedan came to a stop in the driveway of the penthouse.

The night air was crisp and cool as she stepped out, balancing the heavy designer shopping bag in one hand and her bulky work bag in the other. She sauntered up the front steps, her feet aching slightly from the day’s high heels.

Reaching the front door, she fumbled with her heavy key ring, isolating the brass key and sliding it into the lock. She turned it. It didn’t budge.

Roxanne frowned, her brows pulling together. She pulled the key out, set her work bag down on the concrete step, and held the metal up to the porch light to inspect it. It was the right key. She slid it back into the keyhole, bracing her shoulder against the door as she tried to force it to turn.

Nothing. The mechanism was completely dead.

What is going on? she thought, a cold prickle of frustration washing over her. Why isn’t the key working?

She stepped back off the porch, her eyes scanning the dark front of the building to make sure she hadn’t somehow lost her mind and gone to the wrong address. But no, Christian’s silver car was parked right there in its usual spot. This was definitely her house.

She marched back up to the door and knocked loudly against the heavy wood. No one answered. She knocked harder, using the side of her fist, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet neighborhood. Her heart began a fast, irregular hammer against her ribs. Still, dead silence met her.

Frantic now, she retrieved her phone from her purse and speed-dialed Christian. It rang all the way to voicemail. She cursed under her breath, redialing immediately. Just as the second call began to ring, the sharp, scraping sound of a window opening above her cut through the silence.

Roxanne looked up, squinting into the shadows.

Christian was leaning out of the second-story master bedroom window, a smug smile plastered across his face. "What do you want?" he called down, his tone dripping with mock indifference.

Roxanne stared up at him, her chest tightening with absolute disbelief. "Christian, did you change the locks?"

Christian leaned his elbows on the windowsill, looking down at her for a long, agonizing moment before he slowly nodded. "Yes," he replied, smiling down at her. "And you’re not coming back inside."