Desires Die Hard

Chapter 19

“You’re mistaken, Mr. Welton.” Anya forced down the waves of humiliation and unease that she felt in the face of Evan’s blunt words and straightened her back. “It was an accident. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Evan scoffed. An accident? He didn’t believe a single word she had just said.

His eyes darkened. His voice was husky and edged with a hint of intimidation. “Ms. MacMillan, I hope you remember what I told you. I don’t enjoy repeating myself.”

What was he talking about? Anya would be so happy if she didn’t have to see him again.

She was trying to stay away from the man. She wouldn’t try and make her life difficult by appearing before the devil himself time and again. She treasured her life and her job.

Anya bit her lips. She didn’t want to have to explain herself again. Evan wasn’t going to change his opinions of her. There was no point in her trying to salvage her reputation. He wasn’t going to believe a single word she said.

She took a deep breath. She was going to do her job. Her voice shook slightly as she tried to inject a dose of sincerity in it. “Mr. Welton, Jake told me to deliver you our plans for the latter half of the year. I’ve done exactly that. Can I go now?”

Evan felt an urge to keep Anya in his office. He probably thought she had set him up. After a year had passed, she had somehow found a job in his building. She must have something planned. Perhaps this was simply another one of her tricks. She was trying to reel him in by feigning disinterest.

his eyes from Anya. He grabbed the file he had flung onto his desk moments ago and

quietly in front of Evan’s desk, pain gradually swelling in her breasts.

If she didn’t do it right now, her breasts

boulders hanging from her neck. She dug her nails into her palms. Tiny red crescents appeared on her skin while tiny spikes of

a distraction from the agonizing swelling of her breasts. But it was a short–lived

sweat began to appear on Anya’s forehead as the agony took its toll on her.

Evan was done with the proposal, Anya’s forehead was damp with cold sweat. Her

what you call a proposal?” Evan flipped the file shut

1. up.

forehead glistened with perspiration. Her eyes were red. She looked like a victim of bullying who was

on her blouse before finally speaking in a frosty voice. “Ms. MacMillan, look at you right now. What are you trying to say? That I’m

man. She wanted to tell him ‘yes‘. Yes, he was.

along. Since that night one year ago, she had been victimized for

1/2

repeatedly accused her for setting him