Allyson's POV
My legs trembled as I hurried across the office to the chair facing Michael's mahogany desk. I pressed my palms against my thighs to steady them, then smoothed down my skirt with deliberate care. My heartbeat hammered against my ribs as I dragged my fingers through my hair, desperate to erase any trace of what Michael had been doing to me moments before.
Michael positioned himself against the desk's edge, crossing his arms over his chest. His posture appeared casual, almost lazy, but I knew better. That deceptive calm meant his brilliant mind was already calculating every possible scenario.
"We need to tell him," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His steel-gray eyes held mine captive. "The time has come to reveal everything. No more secrets, no more pretending."
My breath caught in my throat. "Not... now," I whispered back.
