Zane
The meeting was a bore. The quarterly reports were in, and the numbers were exactly where they were supposed to be. I sat at the head of the long conference table, my eyes scanning the faces of my executives, my mind a million miles away. I was thinking of her. I was thinking of her fiery red hair and her beautiful eyes. It had been days since I'd seen her, but I could still feel the phantom weight of her in my lap. I knew she was in Seattle now. My security team had already informed me that she had landed and was safely at her apartment. A wave of possessive satisfaction had washed over me when I read the report. She was in my city, in my territory, and I was going to keep her safe.
A knock on the conference room door jolted me back to reality. My head of security, Mark, a tall, imposing man with a face like a granite statue, entered the room and gave me a barely perceptible nod. I dismissed the meeting; my executives scrambling to pack their laptops and get out of my sight.
"What is it, Mark?" I asked, my voice flat.
"The princess is on her way here," he said, his voice a low rumble.
My heart, a muscle I thought had long since atrophied, gave a strange, powerful jolt. "What?" I asked, a hint of confusion in my tone.
"She's in a taxi. She gave the driver the address to this office," he said, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Why?" I asked, my mind racing. She had no reason to come here. She had only been in the city for a day. She couldn't possibly be in any kind of trouble. I stood up, my senses on high alert.
"I don't know, sir. She seems a little agitated," he said.
"Agitated? What happened? Did someone touch her?" I demanded, my voice dangerously low.
"Sir, the security team at her new firm… they reported her boss, a man named Bill Collins. It seems he was… making her uncomfortable," Mark said, his voice hesitant.
A primal, animalistic roar of pure, unadulterated rage ripped through me. I slammed my fist on the table, the sound echoing through the empty room. "Bill Collins?" I asked, my voice a low, venomous whisper.
"Yes, sir. We have a file on him. He's been known for this kind of behavior. He's a repeat offender," Mark said, his voice calm, but his eyes were wide with alarm. He had never seen me like this.
I felt a cold, murderous rage wash over me, a rage so powerful it made my hands tremble. My princess. My Sadie. He had touched her. He had looked at her the wrong way. The thought of his disgusting, leering eyes on her, his hands on her, was enough to make me want to burn the world to the ground.
"Get me everything you have on him," I said, my voice a low, dangerous growl. "Names, addresses, family… everything. And send a man to his house. I want him to know what's coming." I walked to the window, staring out at the cityscape, a dark, dangerous smile on my face. She had come to my shadows. And now, she was going to watch me burn.