My Dad's Bestfriend (Evelyn and Jacob) novel Chapter 262

Sienna

"I hate this," I muttered as I walked into that massive, stupid building. And by "massive," I didn't just mean impressive—I meant palace-level overkill. I'd always mocked Dad for showing off in his office, but this? This was ridiculous. Computers and paperwork didn't require chandeliers and marble floors. What the hell is this place?

Grayson Industries—or rather, Alexander Grayson, the man under whose command every employee moved, spoke, and breathed like a puppet—had clearly spared no expense. Media called him a billionaire. Media lied. He wasn't just rich; he owned opulence, wielding it like a weapon. One snap of his fingers, and he could buy loyalty—or fear.

After giving my name as an "employee" from Adriano Corporation, I was led to his office. Jackpot: his secretary was at her desk. Perfect. I could drop off the file and vanish before even glimpsing the devil in his domain.

I approached her, plastering a cheerful smile on my face. "Hi! This file is for Mr. Grayson from Adriano Corporation. I'd really appreciate it if you could deliver it—it's important."

"Hey," she smiled, reaching for the file, "sure, I can—"

And then. That voice. That goddamn voice boomed from behind me.

"What a pleasant surprise!"

I closed my eyes, my hopes evaporating instantly. The secretary froze, her hand hovering over the file, and for a second I wondered what the hell she thought she was doing—but she wisely let go.

"Well, excuse me, Miss," she said, flashing me a polite smile, "I guess you can give the file to Sir himself now that he's here." And just like that, she vanished.

I gritted my teeth, staring at the file in my hand, mentally cursing my fate.

I turned slowly, knowing I had no choice. And there he was. Black suit, white shirt, polished black shoes reflecting my face, a Patek Philippe watch glinting on his wrist, hair flawless, perfume cutting through the air even from a distance—and that face... the same face I'd recently remembered between my thighs. My knees wobbled, but I wasn't about to let him see weakness. I squared my shoulders and forced a tight, controlled smile.

I hated him.

"Great that you're here, Mr. Grayson," I said, stepping forward, holding out the file. "Dad sent this—"

He didn't let me finish. In one swift movement, he grabbed my arm and shoved me inside the office.

"Hey!" The file hit the floor, forgotten. His eyes didn't move from mine.

Before I could react, he had me pressed against the closed door. One hand slammed against the door beside my head, the other gripping my hip, forcing my body flush against his.

God. Give me strength.

"Why the fuck are you avoiding me?" His voice was low, dangerous, vibrating through me. His eyes burned with a mix of rage and something darker—possession, maybe. And it scared me.

"I don't think I owe you any explanation," I said, throat tight, trying to push him away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to—"

He pressed me against the door again, his body impossibly close, face inches from mine, eyes boring into my soul.

"Yes, you fucking do," he growled, the vibration of his voice reverberating through me, his rough breath ghosting across my skin.

"No, I absolutely fucking don't," I spat back. His hand shot up to cradle my jaw. Surprising—he looked furious, yet his touch wasn't harsh or painful. I had expected otherwise.

"Look, Sienna," he said, trying—and failing—to stay calm, jaw tight, eyes stormy. "If you go back to that piece of shit—"

"What would you do, huh?" I snapped, shoving his chest. "You can parade around under the guise of some business trip, fuck every woman you want, satisfy your stupid animalistic urges, and if I go back to my ex, that's a problem?!" I pushed harder. "You don't own me! I do what I want, and if I want Ryatt—I will, damn it!"

I expected rage, threats, or some domineering bullshit. Instead, sheer confusion flickered across his face.

"Wait...what?" He stared at me like I'd lost my mind. Ego bruised, of course. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

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