Empire of Hate (Empire #3) by Rina Kent

“Stop.” Daniel’s authoritative word makes my feet halt. “Turn around.”

I slowly do, my heart thundering in my chest. Please don’t tell me he’ll act on his threats and fire me this time.

“How do you know I don’t eat parmesan and pesto?”

His question catches me off guard. Out of all the word vomit I just said, that’s what he got out of it?

I clear my throat, summoning nonchalance. “It must be in the million requirements you sent me.”

“No, it wasn’t, and I told you to drop the attitude before I find an unpleasant way to extort it out of you. Now, tell me how you know about my preferences regarding parmesan and pesto?”

“I just know it. Why is that important?”

“I never shared it with you, so how did you find out?”

“I must’ve overheard one of the other assistants mention it.”

“Liar.” He stands up and my heart squeezes when he stalks toward me. The moment I smell him, the pine and lime and bergamot, I become drunk.

But not on his smell alone.

It’s on his presence.

His nearness.

I quit my addiction to him a long time ago—I’m eleven years sober—so how come one hit is enough to make me backpedal into bad habits?

When he speaks, his voice is too close to my ear, I shiver. “Even my best friend isn’t privy to that detail about me. In fact, no one is. So how are you?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I kind of forget easily. Can I go now?”

I make a move to turn, but he grabs my elbow and I nearly shriek when he pulls me back against him. “No, you can’t.”





7





NICOLE





It’s been years since I was in this position.

No, over a decade.

It’s crazy how much the passage of time can change someone’s perspective about everything.

Eleven years ago, I would’ve melted if Daniel had so much as looked at me. If he’d touched me, I would’ve flown to euphoria land in no time.

Because of him, I was mentally and physically sick numerous times. Because of him, I hid in toilets and cried where no one could see the proud Nicole being weak.

And because of him, my life took a sharp dive for the worst.

But that’s been long over.

That’s in the past.

It’s strange how years and events can change a person. How our perspectives can flip one hundred eighty degrees as if it exists in a parallel universe.

I wish that were the case. I wish I’d first met him now and he was just my boss. Maybe then, he wouldn’t be such a jerk.

Maybe then, I wouldn’t be thinking about the way his fingers are wrapped around my elbow or how they burn through my shirt and reach the skin.

He’s always grabbed me by the elbow, almost as if he doesn’t want to touch any other part of me.

But that doesn’t lessen the impact of the gesture or how that small nook of my body is nearing the point of self-destruction.

I dare to slowly lift my gaze and search his in an attempt to wrap my chaotic mind around this.

But the moment my eyes clash with his, I wish I hadn’t looked at him.

I even wish I’d never met him again. I wish our ill-fated connection had died the day he metaphorically killed me eleven years ago.

Because the way he’s watching me?

It’s nothing short of domineering. His square jaw is set and his nostrils are flaring and those eyes that I once found solace in? They’re now judging me, worse than a criminal who’s being prosecuted in court.

Just like everyone else did back then.

Daniel is no different than them. If anything, he should be offered the leadership of my anti-fan club.

Yes, he’s a man now, but he’s still the boy who punched my heart and stomped all over it as if my feelings meant nothing.

He’s still the boy who gave me malevolent butterflies and caused my heart to be dangerously wild by merely existing.

He’s still the one person I can’t forget, no matter how much I attempt to.

“Can you please let me go?” I don’t know how the hell I sound calm when a wildfire is erupting inside me.

“Why?” His voice drops to an almost sinister edge. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Yes. Surely you know this is sexual harassment.”

Daniel lowers his head so he can speak near my ear in a whisper-like range. “You of all people shouldn’t be talking about sexual harassment when you put a date rape drug in my drink.”

I go still, cold sweat breaking down my back and across my forehead.

This is the first time he’s shown an inkling of recognizing me. Ever since yesterday, I’d started to question myself and think that maybe he’d truly erased me from his life.

I thought that maybe I’d become invisible again and that I was only existing as a punching bag he could take his jerk attitude out on.

But no.

He remembers.

No clue why that fills me with equal parts dread and relief.

But that doesn’t matter right now, because his words echo inside me like a hungry beast.

“Is that what you think? That I put a date rape drug in your drink?”

“It’s a fact, not a mere thought. That night, you put a drug in a drink and I happened to take it, but you didn’t stop me.”