Dominic’s POV


    I watched her from behind my desk, enjoying the way she shifted ufortably in the chair across from me. Her scent filled my office–aplex mixture of anxiety, desperation, and that distinctive sweetness that had haunted me since our first encounter at the bar. My wolf stirred beneath my skin, responding to her presence.


    “I just need a job,” she insisted. “Something that pays enough to help with the medical bills. I’ll work hard, I promise.”


    “A noble sentiment,” I said, dropping my voice to a lower register, watching her pupils dte further.


    “But let’s be realistic. Your father’s treatment will cost hundreds of thousands of dors. Even if <b>I </b>


    hired you as an executive assistant–which, forgive me, you’re not qualified for–it would take years to earn enough.”


    I watched as the reality of her situation sank in, her shoulders slumping slightly, her scent shifting to include notes of despair.


    “Then what do you suggest?” she asked, her voice small.


    I could smell her fear–and beneath it, a hint of arousal she was desperately trying to suppress. The mate bond between us vibrated like a plucked string, urging me to im her, to mark her as mine. I


    tamped down the instinct, focusing instead on the business at hand.


    “I can pay for your father’s entire treatment,” I said, watching hope bloom in her eyes. “Every penny.”


    Her breath caught, and for a moment, naked relief washed over her features. Then suspicion


    narrowed her eyes. “And what would you want in return?”


    I leaned closer, deliberately invading her personal space. “You. As mypanion until I take my ce as Alpha.”


    Her scent spiked with shock and outrage. Delicious.


    “In what capacity, exactly?” she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.


    I reached out, catching her chin between my thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look directly into my eyes. “You would live in my private vi. You would be avable to me whenever I desire. You would wear what I choose<b>, </b>eat what I provide, and warm my bed at night.”


    7:57 <b>Sat</b><b>, </b>Sep <b>20 </b>


    :


    A


    <b>89 </b>


    She jerked away from my touch, her cheeks flushing with anger as she shot to her feet. “You want me to be your whore? That’s your proposition?”


    “I prefer ‘exclusivepanion,“” I replied smoothly. “But call it what you will.”


    The audacity of my proposal had clearly ignited her temper. I found her anger far more appealing


    than her fear–the way her eyes shed, her chest heaved, her scent sharpened with indignation.


    “That’s the most degrading offer I’ve ever heard,” she spat. “I came here for a job, not to be your… your ything!”


    I didn’t bother hiding my amusement at her outburst, which only seemed to infuriate her further.


    “It’s a simple transaction,” I said, my voice maddeningly calm. “I get what I want. You get what you


    need.”


    “I need my dignity,” she shot back.


    “Dignity won’t save your father.” My words cut through her indignation like a knife. “And let’s not


    pretend there’s no precedent between us. You gave yourself to me quite willingly that night at the hotel. This is merely… extending that arrangement.”


    Her face burned with humiliation. “That was different. I was drunk, hurt-”


    “And quite enthusiastic,” I interrupted, my eyes darkening with the memory. “As you were in my carst night.”


    She looked like she wanted to p me. “That was a mistake. Both times.”


    “Your body says otherwise.” My voice dropped to a husky whisper as I closed the distance between us again. “I can smell your response to me. Your heart races when I’m near. Your pupils dte. Your skin flushes.” I brushed my hand against her arm, feeling her tremble. “You want me as much as I want <b>you</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>


    “What I want is a job,” she insisted, her voice trembling. “Give me that instead. I’ll work as many hours as it takes. I’ll pay back every cent with interest.”