Marked by the boss

Lydia stared at the door like it was the only thing standing between her and a lion.

Jake William was on the other side—calm, cold, unbothered. Her fingers trembled where they clutched the doorknob. Part of her wanted to scream. The other part… wanted to know what he’d say.

“You have five seconds,” Jake said.

She hesitated, heart hammering. “Or what?”

“I come in.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I don’t make empty threats.”

The door opened a few inches. Lydia peeked out and hissed, “This is insane. You don’t know me.”

Jake’s eyes met hers—dark and unreadable. “Not yet.”

She glared. “I don’t go to dinner with strangers. Especially stalkers.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You’ve been on my mind since the moment you ran into me. I’m not the kind of man who lets things slip by.”

“You don’t get to decide what I do.”

Jake’s gaze darkened. “I decide what’s mine.”

The boldness of the statement knocked the wind from her.

“I’m not yours,” she snapped.

He smirked. “That’s what you think.”

Jake stepped back, gesturing to the sleek black car idling behind him. “Five minutes. If you’re not in that car, I’ll come get you myself.”

Then he turned and walked down the hall, not sparing her another glance.

Lydia slammed the door shut.

What kind of man talks like that? He was beyond arrogant—he was dangerous. And yet… the way he looked at her, like she was already claimed—it made her stomach flutter in the worst way.

She paced her apartment, biting her lip.

Five minutes.

He couldn’t actually—

The door opened.

Lydia spun around.

Jake stood in her living room.

Her eyes widened. “What the hell—?!”

“I warned you,” he said simply.

“How did you—!”

“I have keys to this whole building.” He approached, unhurried. “Do you want to make a scene?”

“You can’t just barge into people’s homes!”

Jake stopped in front of her. “I don’t barge. I collect.”

She backed away. “I’m not some object you can just—”

He caught her wrist, gently but firmly. His grip was warm, strong.

“Wear red,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the inside of her wrist where her pulse was racing. “Dinner. Now.”

“I’m not going with you.”

His eyes dropped to her lips, then met her gaze again. “You will.”

There was something about his confidence that made her knees weak.

Jake leaned in, his breath brushing her ear. “Don’t make me dress you myself.”

A chill shot down her spine.

“Fine,” she snapped, yanking her hand away. “I’ll go. But only to get this over with.”

He smiled, victorious. “Good girl.”

She glared at him, cheeks burning, and stomped off to change.

---

Lydia sat in the back of Jake’s Rolls Royce, arms folded tightly across her red dress. She had no idea why she obeyed him. Maybe because he didn’t seem like a man you could argue with. Maybe because she didn’t want to find out what happened if you said no.

Jake sat beside her, legs relaxed, one hand resting casually on the seat between them—too close.

“You clean up nicely,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “So you stalked me, broke into my home, and forced me into a date. Do you always treat women like this?”

“I don’t date women.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake turned his head, looking at her fully. “I don’t waste time. I take what I want. I don’t do games.”

“What do you do, exactly?” she snapped. “Besides own a club and scare people?”

His smile was slow. “You’re asking the wrong questions.”

“What’s the right one?”

“Why did I choose you?”

Lydia scoffed. “You think I care?”

“You should,” he said softly. “Because your life changed the moment we met.”

---

The restaurant was on the top floor of a skyscraper, completely empty except for them. Candles flickered, wine glistened in crystal glasses, and a private violinist played softly in the corner.

“This is ridiculous,” Lydia muttered.

Jake sat across from her, chin resting on his hand, watching her with lazy intensity.

“You don’t like luxury?”

“I don’t like manipulation.”

“You’re not being manipulated,” he said. “You’re being claimed.”

Lydia nearly choked. “Excuse me?! I’m not a piece of property.”

Jake didn’t blink. “You are now. At least to me.”

Her fork clattered to her plate.

“You’re insane.”

He leaned forward. “You can hate me all you want, Lydia. But I’m not letting you go.”

“Why?”

“Because you looked me in the eye and said no. And I can’t forget it.”

“That’s your reason?”

He smiled slowly. “It’s rare. And irresistible.”

Lydia pushed her chair back and stood. “I’m leaving.”

Jake didn’t move. “There’s a price for walking away.”

She froze. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m warning you. You step out that door, and I’ll still come for you. Every day. Every night. I’ll be everywhere.”

“You’re sick.”

He stood, suddenly in front of her. “You think I’m cruel? This is mercy. If I wanted to, I’d already have you locked in my penthouse, dressed in silk, and marked with my name.”

She tried to step back, but he caught her chin gently.

“I could have taken you tonight,” he whispered. “But I want you to come willingly.”

Lydia’s breath caught in her throat. He was too close. His scent—dark, expensive, intoxicating—wrapped around her like a spell.

“I won’t be one of your toys,” she whispered.

Jake’s eyes burned into hers. “You won’t be. You’ll be mine. Only mine.”

He released her slowly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

“Goodnight, Lydia.”

She stumbled out of the restaurant, heart slamming against her ribs.

Jake William wasn’t a man.

He was a storm—and she was already caught in it.

---

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