[BL] Bound to My Enemy: The Billionaire Who Took My Girl-Chapter 24: Interview pt 2

"Families are complicated," I said. "But we’re both professionals. We’re focused on what’s best for XUM."

"Of course." She paused, flipping through her notes. "Now, there’s been some... speculation about your time away from the family business. You were largely absent from the public eye for several years. Can you speak to that?"

The room went quiet.

I felt the shift. The tension.

This was the question they all wanted to ask but were too afraid to.

I leaned back slightly, expression unreadable.

"I took time to pursue other interests," I said simply. "When the opportunity arose to return and contribute to the family business, I did."

"Other interests," she repeated carefully. "Can you elaborate?"

"No."

Her smile tightened. "There have been rumors... unconfirmed, of course... that you were incarcerated during that time. Would you like to address that?"

I met her gaze. Held it.

"Rumors are rumors," I said, voice cold. "I’m here now. That’s what matters."

She opened her mouth...

"Next question," I said.

She blinked. Then nodded quickly. "Of course. Moving on... "

The interview dragged on for another thirty minutes.

Questions about company strategy. Market trends. My thoughts on the future of luxury hospitality.

All surface-level. All safe.

When they finally called for a break, I stood and unclipped the microphone, handing it off to one of the assistants hovering nearby.

"Fifteen minutes," the director announced.

I didn’t acknowledge him.

Instead, I made my way back toward the suite, ignoring the various people trying to catch my attention... Lila included, who I saw lurking near the catering table like a particularly persistent mosquito.

I pushed open the door to the bedroom.

Noah was on the phone.

He was pacing near the window, one hand pressed to his ear, his voice low and tense.

"... I’m fine, seriously. I just needed a day to recover. You know how it is."

"Who’s that?" I asked loudly, stepping fully into the room. "Your new assignment starts tomorrow, by the way. I’ll need you in the office by seven."

Noah’s head whipped toward me, eyes going wide with pure panic.

He immediately lunged forward, slapping his free hand over my mouth.

"No, no, I’m alone," he said quickly into the phone, voice pitching higher. "It’s just.. it’s just the TV. I had it on in the background."

I raised an eyebrow against his palm.

The audacity.

"Yeah, yeah, I’ll be back tomorrow," Noah continued, pressing harder against my mouth like that would somehow make me disappear. "Just needed to sleep it off, you know?"

I could hear a faint voice on the other end... male, concerned.

Noah was still talking, rambling now, words tumbling over each other. "No, seriously, I’m fine. Stop worrying. I just needed rest and—"

I stuck out my tongue.

And licked his palm.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Noah’s entire body went rigid. His eyes flew to mine, wide and horrified, but he couldn’t pull away. Not without making it obvious something was very, very wrong.

"I... uh... " His voice cracked. "Yeah, no, everything’s good—"

I did it again. Dragged my tongue across the center of his palm, tasting salt and soap and the faint tremor in his hand.

He twitched.

His grip on the phone faltered, and I could see him fighting to keep his composure, to keep his voice steady while I continued my slow, torturous exploration of his palm.

"Mason, I... I really gotta—" Another lick. His breath hitched. "I’ll call you... call you back, okay? Just... yeah... later—"

I flicked my tongue against the sensitive center again, and he practically vibrated.

"No, I’m fine, just... dropped something... yeah... okay... bye—"

But I didn’t stop.

Even as he stammered through another excuse, even as the voice on the other end asked if he was sure he was okay, I kept going. Licking. Teasing. Watching his face turn increasingly red, watching his composure crack further with each pass of my tongue.

"I said I’m fine!" Noah’s voice came out strangled. "I’ll... I’ll text you later... I gotta go... seriously—bye!"

It took him another thirty seconds of increasingly desperate lies before he finally managed to end the call.

The second he did, he yanked his hand away like I’d set it on fire.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he hissed, wiping his palm frantically on his pants. "Are you insane? He could have... why can’t you just be normal?!"

"Where’s the fun in that?" I asked, unbothered.

He stared at me, chest heaving, face flushed, looking torn between murder and mortification.

"You’re—you’re—"

"Who was that?" I interrupted.

"None of your—"

I raised an eyebrow.

He deflated instantly.

"Mason," he muttered. "My coworker. My friend. He was asking why I wasn’t at work today."

"And you told him you were sick."

"Yes! Because what else was I supposed to say?!" His voice rose. "Oh, sorry Mason, can’t come in today, the psychopath CEO is keeping me hostage in a hotel room ?"

I laughed.

Actually laughed.

It startled him enough that he stopped mid-rant, staring at me like I’d grown a second head.

"You’re really committed to this victim narrative, aren’t you?" I said, shaking my head. "No one’s keeping you hostage, Noah. You walked in here on your own two feet."

"Because you—"

"Because you wanted to." I stepped closer. "Don’t pretend otherwise."

His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

But no words came out.

Good.

I checked my watch. "I have another meeting after this wraps up after this interview."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"My driver will take you home when we’re done here."

He blinked. "What?"

"You’re taking the rest of the day off," I said simply.

"I—seriously?"

"Don’t get used to it." I moved toward the door, pausing with my hand on the knob. "You’re going to need your energy for the rest of the month."

His face shifted from confusion to dawning horror.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

I smiled.

"Exactly what it sounds like."

And with that, I walked out, leaving him standing there looking equal parts furious and terrified.

Perfect.