The Billionaire's Secret Obsession: She Is Mine

Aidan's fingers wrapped around the cold brass of the elevator call button.

"Wait." Brent's voice cracked behind him, laced with panic.

Brent burst through the double doors, scrambling around a marble console table in the hallway, rushing to put himself between Aidan and the elevator doors. His chest heaved beneath his silk tie.

Aidan stopped. He looked down at Brent with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust. He looked at him like he was a cockroach that needed to be crushed.

Brent swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to summon some executive authority. "You can't do this, Aidan. You can't bring personal grudges into a corporate deal. It's unprofessional."

Aidan let out a dark, hollow laugh. He let go of the call button and took a step forward.

Brent took a step back.

Aidan took another step. His presence was a physical weight, forcing Brent backward until his shoulder blades slammed hard against the polished wall of the corridor. There was nowhere left to run.

Aidan leaned in, his face inches from Brent's. "Who said anything about personal grudges?" His voice was ice.

Brent's eyes darted wildly around the hallway. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I... I don't know what you're talking about. The past is the past."

Aidan's hand shot out. He grabbed the knot of Brent's silk tie and yanked him forward with brutal force.

Brent choked out a gasp as the fabric dug into his windpipe. His face flushed a deep, mottled red.

"Eight years ago," Aidan snarled, his eyes burning with demonic fury. "That night it rained. You called me. You told me Julianna was in your bed. Was it true?"

At the sound of Julianna's name, Brent's pupils dilated in sheer terror. His mental defenses shattered.

He grabbed Aidan's wrist with both hands, desperately trying to pry those iron fingers off his throat. It was useless. Aidan's grip didn't budge a millimeter.

"Tell me!" Aidan roared, shaking him.

"No!" Brent gasped, tears of panic springing to his eyes. "No! It was a lie! It was all a lie!"

Aidan froze.

"I made it up!" Brent sobbed, his voice pathetic and broken. "If I didn't tell you that, you never would have left for Europe! You never would have let her go!"

The words hit Aidan like a physical bullet to the chest. Every muscle in his body locked tight. A terrifying, violent darkness exploded behind his eyes.

He shoved Brent backward with everything he had.

Brent flew back, crashing onto the polished marble floor. His body slammed into a heavy metal umbrella stand, knocking it over with a deafening crash. He curled into a tight ball, clutching his ribs and groaning in agony.

Aidan stood over him. His chest heaved violently. His hands curled into fists so tight his fingernails sliced into the flesh of his palms.

Eight years. Eight years of her believing he was a traitor. Eight years of him believing she had chosen someone else. All of it built on a lie.

A low, broken laugh ripped from Aidan's throat. It sounded insane. It echoed off the corridor walls, full of grief and madness.

He reached up, his fingers tightening on the knot of his tie, loosening it slightly as if he were suffocating.

He looked down at Brent one last time. The rage was gone, replaced by a terrifying, dead emptiness.

Aidan kicked a piece of broken ceramic out of his way. "Stay away from her," he said, his voice devoid of all human emotion. "The rules are mine now."

He turned and walked toward his private elevator.

The bright fluorescent lights of the hallway hit his face. He pulled his phone from his pocket as he strode forward.

He hit a speed dial number. "Jennings," Aidan said, his voice dropping back to absolute zero. "Find out exactly where Julianna Pitts is right now."

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing him inside with his obsession.