It started with a coffee.
Too innocent, right?
Wrong.
Because the new intern, Riley, was cute boyish smile, sweet voice, and dumb enough to think Janelle was just some new girl and not the chosen obsession of Mirabel fucking Cole.
"I thought you might like something warm." Riley smiled, handing Janelle a cup.
She blushed, her lips still swollen from the office wall incident earlier that day. "Thanks…"
But across the room, Mirabel watched. Cold. Still.
Like a predator waiting for blood.
And then she stood.
The heels came first. That sharp click.
Then the scent Chanel and lust.
Then her voice dead calm.
"Riley, is it?" she asked, walking up with a faint smile. "Did you just offer my assistant coffee?"
"Uh yes, ma'am. She looked a little"
"Tired?" Mirabel cut in. "Why would she be tired?"
Janelle's heart nearly jumped out her chest.
"I… I didn't mean"
"She's not tired," Mirabel purred, eyes burning into Janelle. "She's sore. And that's my doing."
Silence.
Riley choked on his breath. "Oh."
Mirabel leaned in closer to Janelle and ran a finger down her arm. "And darling, if anyone ever flirts with you again, you tell me."
"I didn't flirt." Janelle started.
"You will tell me." Her voice dropped. "Because I don't share my toys."
Then she licked the corner of Janelle's lips in front of everyone and walked away.
Leaving chaos behind.
Janelle couldn't breathe.
The office couldn't breathe.
But between her legs?
Heat. Need. Ache.
She looked down at the untouched coffee, and laughed shakily.
Warm?
No.
Mirabel was warm.
Mirabel was fire.
And Janelle wanted to burn.
---
To be continued