[Music: Dangerous By Royal Deluxe]
ARES
On my screen, every click mirrored through mine. The cursor on her laptop moved before typing something, as if having details from somewhere else to input.
I leaned back in my seat, watching everything unfold on my laptop.
Where did she get the names of those files?
The more she explored, the more she came up with nothing. Those were already useless, so it was a pointless search.
My eyes discreetly moved to her table and found a mix of emotions plastered on her face, but it was mostly relief.
I moved my eyes back to my laptop, observing as she closed the window and opened another one, tying up the document she should have been working on.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Reed’s number. When he picked the call, I brought it to my ear and spoke low.
"Report on everything."
"We drove her to the hospital, but first we made a stop at the coffee shop and again on our way back."
"Two stops." I moved my eyes to Catherine, deeply focused and her posture straight.
I twisted in my seat, angling my body toward her, admiring how beautiful she looked right now.
"Yes."
Reed’s reply reminded me that I was still on call. Two stops at the coffee shop. Catherine isn’t that high on coffee. She loves sweet things, but she knows how to calm her sugar.
"Did she meet with anyone?"
"No, Don King—I mean Mr. King."
I don’t blame his slip-up. It took months for him to get used to calling me Mr. King. The change was necessary because of Catherine.
"I need you and Nico to keep a closer eye on her from now on. Monitor everyone she meets without my knowledge."
When he doesn’t reply, I ask. "Is there a problem?"
"N-No, Mr. King. It’s just she won’t be happy about that."
I knew she wouldn’t like it when she discerns she’s being watched like a hawk, but it’s only until I find out what was going on and why she had those confidential files. But I do admit I enjoy her curiosity.
It meant she wanted to know more about me, even going behind my back just for it.
"Do as I say. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Mr. King."
"Work on that thing I told you about. I need every info about Theo Mercer, his current sponsor, and the details about everything that goes in and out."
I ended the call and dropped the phone on the table, swaying as I scrutinized her.
What are you up to, baby?
Catherine ran her hand through her red hair, which had gained more volume, making the waves more pronounced. Others would wear a wig to get that kind of texture of hair, but she doesn’t need to.
Her hair had always been stunning, and I recalled pulling on it as my cock drove in and out of her.
Ever since the disastrous weekend and her sudden attempts to terminate the sex contract, she kept throwing it at my face, hoping for a reaction, and I relish every moment when she meets with disappointment each time.
I let my gaze dip to her blouse, my cock straining painfully in my pants when I saw how her tits tightened against it, leaving a little bit of her cleavage for view, and when she pulled her hair behind, I got a better look at her milky, chiseled neck, a thin gold chain glittering around it.
I pictured how a collar would look on her neck—specially made. It would look exquisite.
"Ms. Lane."
I licked my lips when she tensed, and her eyes moved to me, heat taking over them in a matter of seconds. She has been eye fucking me for the last two days.
For someone who terminated the contract on a whim, she was doing a bad job trying to hide the fact that she still wants me.
"Yes, Mr. King?" She found her voice, and it came off soft, almost breathy, reminding me of how she moaned helplessly and screamed my name.
"Lemme see those documents you’re working on."
I love that thing she does when she has to take a moment to pause before she speaks. Her lips would part briefly before she shut them, deciding what to say.
"I-I’m still working on it, just give me a few more minutes."
You’re not done because you spent almost three hours doing things you shouldn’t have. She’s been a very bad girl. But I’m more concerned about how she got her hands on those files in the first place.
"Bring it over."
"I’m not—"
One look and she was already up on her feet. At her action, she frowned, probably disliking how she could easily give in to me.
Murmuring something under her breath, she gathered a few papers, held them close to her chest, and came to me. Her heels made soft noises until she stood at the other end of the table.
"Closer."
She clenched the papers tightly, hesitating for a minute, but eventually gave in as my eyes bored into hers. She rounded my table and stood beside my seat, dropping the papers with an attitude. She’s doing this because she knew she could.
Catherine turned to leave, but I was already up on my feet as I snatched her wrist. The force caused her butt to press against the edge of my table, and I trapped her right there with my hands caging the sides.
"What are you doing, Mr. King?" she asked in a raspy whisper.
"What do you think I’m doing, Ms. Lane?"
"I-I terminated the sex—"
"You’re my wife," I said, with far too much possession that flipped the air around us.
Catherine stared at me wide-eyed, because one, this wasn’t the public, and two, I’m at my last patience with this little trouble of mine.
She gulped and had the audacity to correct me. "Contract wife. I don’t belong to you, Mr. King."