Lilly hadn't been able to face the office the next day. She told herself it was because she wasn't feeling well, but the truth was far simpler, far more heavier. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him again. Mark Bergen. The memory of his lips pressed against hers, the heat of his hand on her skin, the look in his eyes when he had closed the distance between them. It all left her restless and trembling. She couldn't breathe at her desk with that image haunting her, so she stayed home, hoping that one day away might somehow dilute the storm inside her chest. But it didn't.
By the morning after, the weight of responsibility dragged her back into the building. She had barely set her bag on her chair when Maria appeared, looking oddly curious.
"Mr. Bergen is waiting for you," she said flatly, her eyes narrowing as if she were trying to read something on Lilly's face.
Lilly froze, "Me?"
"Yes. First thing this morning. What on earth did you do, Levine?" Maria's tone carried an edge of disbelief, though her voice dropped lower, like she didn't want others to overhear.
Lilly swallowed, her throat dry, "I… I went into his office at the wrong time."
Maria blinked once, long and slow, before her gaze softened with something like understanding. She didn't pry further, didn't ask for details, didn't even offer comfort. She simply gave a small shake of her head and walked away.
Her palms damp, Lilly made her way to the top floor. When she stepped into Mark's office, she lingered by the door like an intruder, her voice catching, "You asked for me, Mr. Bergen?"
Mark looked up from behind his desk. His dark gaze slid over her slowly, deliberately, in that same way that made her skin feel like it wasn't her own anymore, "Yes. Close the door."
She obeyed, the soft click sounding far louder than it should have.
"Why didn't you come to the office yesterday?" His question was sharp and direct.
"I was… sick," Lilly replied quickly, though she could feel her pulse hammering with guilt. She knew how thin the excuse sounded, but it was the only shield she had.
One brow arched as if he didn't quite believe her, "Hmmm," The sound wasn't agreement, nor was it dismissal. It was simply an acknowledgment, one that carried weight. His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, enough to make her stomach coil with butterflies, before he returned to the papers spread across his desk.
A knock broke the tension. The door opened, and Luna stepped in, her heels clicking against the polished floor. Her eyes flicked toward Lilly first, before she crossed the room with a practiced smile, setting a steaming cup of coffee on Mark's desk.
"Here's your coffee, Mr. Bergen," she said sweetly.
"Thank you, Luna," Mark replied, his voice polite but distant. His eyes never left Lilly, "That'll be all."
Luna hesitated for a fraction too long, then turned and left.
When the door closed, Mark pressed a button on the phone by his desk, "Karen," he said to his secretary outside, his voice firm, "I don't want to be disturbed today. Cancel everything if I have a meeting and anything else. And order breakfast for me. Like usual."
When he ended the call, his attention shifted back to Lilly, "Read me the summary of the report you submitted two days ago."
Lilly's hands gripped the folder so tightly the edges bent, but she nodded, flipping it open. Her voice trembled at first, but once she began to focus on the data, the rhythm steadied. She stood there, reading aloud point by point, while Mark leaned back in his chair, watching her in silence.
Time passed longer than she realized until a knock interrupted them again. The secretary entered, carrying a tray of breakfast: eggs, toast, fruit, and a bottle of water. She placed it carefully on the desk, but her eyes flicked toward Lilly, who was still standing, reading the report. The look was subtle, but enough to make Lilly feel suddenly exposed, as though everyone could see more than they should.
When the door shut behind her, Lilly let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Mark reached for the plate, but then paused, "Come here."
Her heart skipped, "Sir?"
He didn't repeat himself. His tone was enough to make her legs move of their own accord until she stood at the edge of his desk.
"Feed me," he said simply.
Lilly blinked, unsure if she had heard correctly.
"I won't ask twice." His voice dropped lower, firm, leaving no room for refusal.
Her throat worked nervously, but she picked up the fork, cut a piece of toast, and held it out. He leaned forward, taking it from her hand with his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers.
The room felt impossibly small, every second stretching. When she tried to retreat, he caught her wrist with a sudden grip that made her breath hitch.
"Sit," he commanded, pulling her closer. Before she could protest, he guided her onto his lap, his arm sliding around her waist to hold her in place as though she belonged there.
Her entire body stiffened, every muscle coiled with tension, but Mark was unbothered. He returned his attention to the plate as though nothing were unusual, lifting his gaze only to open his mouth slightly, waiting for her to continue.
The butterflies in her stomach roared into chaos. With trembling fingers, she lifted another bite to his lips. He ate it leisurely, chewing with deliberate calm, his other hand resting on her thigh lightly, but with enough pressure to remind her that he was in control.
Lilly's pulse thundered in her ears.