His office, my rules

ELI

I tried. God knows I tried to focus.

But my brain wasn’t working. Words swam on the page, legal citations blurred together, and all I could think about was how his tattoos looked in the light.

I shook my head, scribbling something down. Focus, Eli. Focus.

Then I hit a case I couldn’t make sense of. The paragraph tangled around itself, and my notes were just question marks.

I groaned softly and pushed back my chair. “Um… Professor?”

He didn’t look up. “What.”

“I don’t get this part.” I walked over, sliding the file toward him. “See? The way they worded it doesn’t make sense to me.”

He took the paper, scanning fast. “You missed the exception clause. Look here.” He tapped the margin.

I leaned closer. His cologne was sharp, clean, and expensive. My pulse spiked.

“Ohhh.” I nodded. “That makes more sense.”

I turned to go back to my seat—

And my foot caught on the chair leg.

I stumbled forward.

Strong fingers caught my wrist, pulling me back before I face-planted.

Straight into his lap.

Again.

“Shit!” I gasped.

My whole body crashed into his, chest to chest, thigh pressing right against him.

He groaned lowly, probably from the force.

But the sound shot fire straight through me. Heat curled in my stomach. My skin prickled.

I froze. My heart hammered so hard it hurt.

His hand stayed on my waist. Firm. Steady.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Then his voice, low, dangerous: “You really like falling on me, don’t you?”

My face went nuclear. “I—I didn’t mean to!”

“Twice now.” His lips curved faintly. “Starting to look intentional.”

“It’s not!” I scrambled to my feet, words tumbling. “God, you’re—”

He stood too, smooth, unruffled. He pulled a new document from the stack and slid it toward me.

“Review this one.”

I blinked. “Right now?”

“Yes.” He stepped closer, leaning down just enough for his mouth to brush near my ear. “Read every line. Carefully.”

His breath was warm. His voice was deep. The words sank straight through me.

I shivered. My knees went weak.

I grabbed the file like it was a lifeline. “O-okay. Sure. Yes. Reviewing. Right now.”

I stumbled back toward my desk, nearly tripping again. My face was on fire.

He sat calmly, opening another folder, like he hadn’t just whispered sin into my ear.

I lasted thirty seconds before my pen slipped out of my hand. My thoughts were gone. Completely gone.

I stood so fast my chair screeched. “I—I should go. I just remembered—I have to—uh—something.”

His eyes flicked up, cool, sharp. “Running again?”

I stammered. “I’m not running. I’m just—leaving.”

He smirked faintly. “Whatever helps you sleep.”

My entire body buzzed. I bolted for the door, clutching the file to my chest.

Maya was going to eat me alive.

********

CARTER

He ran.

Bolted out of my office like the room was on fire.

I almost laughed. Almost.

God, the boy did things to me.

That flustered stutter. Those wide eyes. The way he froze every time my hand so much as brushed his.

It had taken everything in me not to pull him closer when he landed on my lap again. Not to crush his mouth under mine. Not to fuck the shyness out of him until all that trembling turned into begging.

My jaw clenched. My hand curled around the pen I was holding.

Pathetic. What the hell was wrong with me.

That was Liam’s ex. A student. Young. Too young.

A child.

I pushed back from the desk abruptly and stood. The air in the office was too heavy. I needed to move.

When I opened the door, I stopped short.

Eli was still standing there.

Back pressed to the wall, file clutched in his arms like a shield. Eyes wide when they landed on me.

I exhaled slowly. “Get in. I’ll give you a ride.”

His mouth opened, closed. “Uh—I don’t want to bother you—”

“You already are,” I cut in. “Get in.”

He hesitated another beat, then nodded, shuffling toward the car.

We drove in silence.

He sat stiff in the passenger seat, staring out the window like I was about to eat him alive.

I almost smirked. “Relax. I’m not going to bite.”

His head whipped toward me. “You keep saying that.”

“Because you keep looking like you’re waiting for it.”

His face went red instantly. “I’m not!”

“Good.”

He crossed his arms, muttering under his breath. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm.”

The car settled into quiet again. My grip tightened on the wheel, thoughts darker than I wanted to admit.

Then my phone rang through the car system.

The name flashing on the screen made my gut tighten.

“Sorry,” I muttered, answering.

Eli blinked. “It’s fine—”

“Vale,” I said into the speaker.

The voice on the other end was sharp. Urgent.

I listened, jaw tightening, eyes on the road. “Understood. I’ll be there in ten.”

The line cut.

Eli looked at me nervously. “Everything okay?”

“No.” I flicked on the blinker, making a sharp turn.

He gripped the seat. “Where are we going?”

“Detour.”

“Detour?”

“My law firm.”

His brows shot up. “Right now? Wait, you have a law firm?”

“Yes.”

“What about me?”

“You’ll wait in the car.”

He frowned instantly. “I can come inside—”

“No.” My tone was final. “Stay here.”

“But—”

“Eli.” I glanced at him, sharp. “Stay. In. The. Car.”

He pressed his lips together, mutinous. “I don’t like being told what to do.”

“Too bad.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not my boss outside class.”

“Technically, I’m your boss everywhere.”

He sputtered. “You—you’re—God, you’re insufferable.”

“Good. Keeps you obedient.”

His jaw dropped. “Obedient? I’m not—”

I parked in front of the firm and cut the engine. My voice dropped low, final. “Stay here, Rivera. I won’t repeat myself.”

He glared, gripping the file tighter.

I didn’t wait for his reply.

I walked inside.

The second I stepped into the firm, the atmosphere shifted.

Every head turned. Every voice silenced.

“Good evening, Mr Vale.”

“Mr. Vale.”

“Sir.”

They bowed their heads, moved aside. The path to my office cleared instantly.

Power wasn’t loud. It was quiet. And they all understood exactly who I was.

I didn’t acknowledge them. I didn't need to. The elevator doors slid open, and I went up.

When I walked into my office, I already knew something was wrong.

The air smelled of copper.

Dante was there. My PA. My best friend. His fists bloodied, shirt streaked crimson. His mismatched eyes—one green, one blue—were sharp.

On the floor lay Brandon Pierce.

Politician’s son. Spoiled. Untouchable.

Or so he thought.

He spat blood, grinning up at me. “About time you showed up, Vale. Tell your mutt to keep his hands off me.”

Dante’s jaw flexed, knuckles twitching for another blow.

I didn’t look at him. I walked to my chair, sat down, leaned forward, pressing my palms together under my chin.

Then I dropped my hands and slapped Brandon across the face. Hard.

The crack echoed.

Blood smeared across his lip. His grin faltered.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” My voice was calm. Too calm.

Brandon sneered. “So what? Kid was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not my fault.”

My jaw tightened.

I hit him again. Harder.

His head snapped to the side. He cursed, coughing blood.

“You killed his future,” I said coldly. “Seven years old. Paralyzed because of you. Do you feel big, Pierce? Do you feel powerful?”

He glared, defiant. “My father will clean it up. He always does. You’ll win the case like you always do, Vale. That’s why you’re here, right? To fix my shit?”

I stood and walked around the desk.

My hand closed around his throat.

He choked, eyes widening, both hands clawing at my grip.

I leaned down, voice low, emotionless. “I told you to lay low after the last case. I told you if you touched another life, I would end you myself.”

He gasped. “You… you wouldn’t…”

My grip tightened. His face turned red. His legs kicked weakly.

Dante didn’t move. He only watched, silent approval in his eyes.

Brandon’s struggles weakened. His eyes rolled back.

At the last second, I released him.

He collapsed to the floor, coughing, gagging, desperate for air.

I stepped back, smoothing down my cuffs like nothing happened. “Clean this shit up, Dante.”

“Already on it,” Dante muttered, wiping his hands on a rag. His gaze flicked to me. “He’s not worth prison time.”

I grabbed the glass of water from my desk. Threw it hard at the wall. It shattered, fragments scattering across the floor.

My chest rose and fell once. Twice. Then I straightened, my expression back to steel.

“You think your father can save you again?” I asked Brandon coldly.

His eyes flickered with fear. Just for a second.

“Get him out of my sight,” I told Dante.

Dante smirked darkly. “Gladly.”

He hauled Brandon up by his collar, dragging him toward the door.

I rubbed my throat absently, forcing the tension out of my muscles.

Control. Always control.

But then I turned.

And froze.

Eli stood at the doorway.

His eyes were wide, mouth open, face pale. He had seen everything.

For once, my mask almost slipped.

Almost.

He blinked at me, stunned, voice breaking the silence.

“Well… fuck.”