Chapter 3: Be My Boyfriend

Aria's POV I was exactly seven seconds late. Seven seconds. In the real world, it meant nothing. But inside the glass-walled boardroom of Harlow Enterprises, seven seconds felt unforgivable. I slipped in quietly, holding my tablet and the printed reports Ethan had asked for at the last minute. The room was already full. Executives in sharp suits sat around the long mahogany table, their attention briefly shifting to me before hardening again. Brandon noticed me instantly. Of course he did. “Well,” he said with a lazy smile, his voice carrying across the room, “look who finally arrived. Miss Sinclair herself. Did we pull you away from something more important, Aria?” A few low chuckles followed. My cheeks warmed, but I kept my face calm. “My apologies,” I said politely. “Mr. Harlow requested updated figures.” Brandon leaned back, clearly enjoying himself. “Naturally. Because Ethan can’t seem to start a meeting without his assistant rushing in to save the day.” His eyes lingered on me. “Tell me, Aria, how did you even manage to keep this job after… everything?” The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. I could feel the stares—some curious, some cruel, some quietly satisfied. I inhaled slowly and prepared to respond. “Enough.” Ethan’s voice cut through the tension with calm authority. He leaned forward at the head of the table, his storm-gray eyes locked on Brandon. The room seemed to shrink under his presence. I’d seen pictures, of course. Everyone in the city knew his handsome, sexy face...sharp jaw, dark hair always just a little unruly, eyes the color of storm clouds. But photographs lied. In person, he was taller, broader, more dangerously beautiful than any camera could capture. The tailored black suit hugged his frame like it had been sewn onto him, and the way he moved... slowly, deliberately, like he owned every inch of space he walked through...he made the air feel thinner. “Aria is late because I asked her to gather data your department failed to submit last week,” Ethan said evenly. “If you have a concern, bring it to me. Otherwise, keep her name out of your mouth.” Brandon’s smile disappeared. His jaw tightened as he looked away. Ethan didn’t wait for an answer. His gaze shifted to me. “Miss Sinclair. The reports.” I walked toward him, my steps steady despite the rapid beat of my heart. As I handed him the folder, I felt his eyes linger—not rushed, not careless. Thoughtful. Intent. “Thank you,” he said quietly. For just a moment, his fingers brushed mine. It was brief. Barely noticeable. But his eyes lifted to meet mine, holding for a second longer than necessary. There was no smile, no expression I could easily read..but something in his gaze felt focused. Assessing. Almost admiring. I returned to my seat behind him, my pulse refusing to slow. The meeting continued. Ethan led the discussion with precision, moving smoothly from numbers to projections, strategies to acquisitions. Everyone listened. Everyone followed. And yet… every so often, I felt it. His gaze. When someone else spoke too long, his eyes drifted to me. When a chart appeared on the screen, he glanced back as if checking my reaction. Once, when I shifted in my chair, I caught him watching me through the reflection on the glass wall. ***** Later That Day ****** I was startled when I heard his footsteps behind me, as I was fixing some files. His gaze swept over me once, seductively and assessing, then locked onto my eyes. “What are you doing in my office?” His voice was low, smooth, edged with something that made my skin prickle. I turned fully to face him, clutching the file folder like a shield. “HR assigned me this morning to fix some files.” One brow arched. He crossed the room in three strides and extended his hand. “Nice to see you...Again..I didn't think I'd see you in my office so late.” He said sweetly. The moment my palm slid into his, something electric snapped through me. His grip was warm, firm, possessive. Instead of releasing me, he tugged...gently, but undeniably..pulling me a step closer. His head dipped, lips brushing the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Be a very good girl for me, Aria Sinclair,” he whispered, breath hot against my skin. My name in his mouth sounded like sin. I never noticed how stormy his eyes where, how good he smelt. One look at him, and I'm already feeling so sinful. Lord forgive me. I swallowed hard, pulse racing. The door was closed. And I realized we were alone. And then, a wicked, reckless idea bloomed in my mind. I was sure if he would play along, but I had to try. I tilted my face up to his. “Mr. Harlow… will you be my boyfriend?” He froze. Then pulled back just enough to look at me, amusement and disbelief flickering in those gray eyes. He shook his head, already turning toward his desk. “Cute try. But no.” “Wait.” I caught his wrist before he could pull away fully. His skin was warm under my fingers. “If you date me...I can help you save this company.” He stopped. Turned back slowly. “What are you talking about?” “That Crystal contract. The one you’ve been chasing for three years. The one that could triple your market share overnight.” I held his gaze. “I can get it for you.” His eyes narrowed. “How?” “I have… connections.” I said simply. I didn't want him knowing that I own Sinclair Group. And Crystal contract was the biggest in the country, getting it was nearly impossible. He studied me for a long, silent moment. Doubt warred with curiosity on his face. Finally, he stepped closer again..close enough that I could smell his cologne, something dark and expensive. It smelled so good that I felt my panties would drop. He looked into my eyes like he knew my plan. Every inche of it. “You’re serious.” He raised an eyebrow. “Deadly.” I said, swallowing hard as his eyes dropped to my lips. A slow smile curved his mouth. A sweet, yet predatory. “Fine,” he murmured. “Let’s say I trust you.” The air between us thickened. He didn’t step back like I expected, Instead, he slid one hand to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him. Our noses brushed. “What do boyfriends and girlfriends do, Aria?” His deep voice had dropped to a growl that ripped through his chest. My lips parted on a shaky breath. I couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. All I could see were his eyes, his mouth, the sharp line of his jaw. Heat pooled low in my stomach. God, he was gorgeous. Dangerously, unfairly gorgeous. I wanted him. Right here. Right now. On the desk. On the floor. Anywhere he’d take me. It had been one day—one single day—and I was already throwing myself at my boss like some desperate— The door swung open. Brandon strode in, confidence radiating off him like cheap cologne. His eyes landed on me first, curled in disgust, then flicked to Ethan. “Boss,” he said, tone dripping with false concern. “Let me get rid of her for you. She clearly doesn’t understand manners or boundaries.” Ethan didn’t even glance at him. He was too good at this game. Instead, he tightened his arm around my waist, pulling me closer until my body was pressed fully against his. “No,” he said calmly, voice like velvet over steel. “That won’t be necessary.” He turned his head, brushed a slow, deliberate kiss against my cheek—just below my eye, close enough to my mouth to make my knees weak. “My girlfriend and I,” he continued, lips still hovering near my skin, “are having a moment.” Brandon’s face went slack with shock. "What the f**k?! Are you that desperate? Trying to get my attention?" Brandon spat. "I don't know what you are talking about, I thought we divorced." I said, rolling my eyes. "I didn't say you start f*****g my boss," He growled. "Mr Ford, language! Go and do your work, my girl and I.... are busy..." Ethan said, shifting the whole energy to him. Brandon fumed, his fists were shaky as he stared at me like he'd kill me. I turned to Ethan and wrapped my arms around his neck, gently kissing his neck. I felt Brandon's gaze burning on us. Good. maybe that's what I needed. "Close the door on your way out, would you."