Chapter 4 - The Question on Bended Knee
“Take your hands off my secretary.”
The voice ripped through the cavernous basement like thunder. I froze, my heart leaping into my throat. Tyler remained on his knee, his hand still extended with the diamond ring trembling between his fingers.
Standing in the doorway was Ryan Kensington.
His bespoke tie was gone, his collar torn open, his dark hair falling wildly over his forehead. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths as if he had run down ten flights of stairs rather than wait for the elevator. But it wasn't his disheveled appearance that struck me dumb—it was his eyes.
The Ice King was gone. In his place stood a man possessed by a feral, terrifying fury.
“I said,” Ryan repeated, closing the distance between them with predatory strides, his heavy boots slamming against the concrete, “get away from her.”
Tyler slowly rose to his feet. He was pale, visibly intimidated by the raw physical presence of his employer, but he held his ground. He slipped the ring box slightly back into his hand, his chin lifting in defiance.
“She doesn't belong to you, Mr. Kensington.”
Ryan stopped barely two feet from Tyler. His jaw was clenched so violently I could hear the grinding of his teeth. “That's not your decision to make.”
“No,” Tyler fired back, stepping protectively in front of me. “It's hers. And I just asked her to marry me.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. The industrial shredder behind us let out a low, mechanical hum, its idle blades vibrating slightly against the metal housing. Ryan didn’t look at Tyler. Slowly, painfully, his gaze tore away from the other man and landed on the velvet box. He stared at the diamond ring as if it were a dagger poised inches from his heart.
Then, his eyes found mine.
The terrifying rage in his face seemed to collapse inward, replaced by an expression that shocked me to my very soul. It was sheer, unadulterated fear. A vulnerability so naked, so desperate, that it looked grotesque on a billionaire who held half of Manhattan in his palm.
“Mia,” Ryan whispered, his voice cracking on the syllables. “Tell me you didn't say yes.”
I stared at him, my mind reeling. In five years, he had never called me Mia inside the office. It was always Sullivan. Always formal. Always cold.
“Why do you care?” I heard myself say, the words slipping past my lips before I could stop them. The tears I had been fighting back all day finally began to burn behind my eyes. “Why do you care what I do with my life, Mr. Kensington? You banished me down here to freeze in the dark while you celebrate your engagement to Rebecca Sterling upstairs! You treat me like furniture! You don't get to tell me who I can love!”
“Engagement?” Ryan blinked, genuine confusion breaking through his panic. “What the hell are you talking about?”
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“The board announcement,” Tyler snapped. “The Sterling alliance! Don't lie to her, Ryan. Everyone knows what tonight was about.”
“Tonight wasn't an alliance,” Ryan snarled, finally tearing his gaze away from me to glare at Tyler with murderous intent. “Tonight was a hostile trap. And the documents sitting on that table aren't business records—they are criminal evidence.”
