i hate her. i hate her so much i dream about strangling her with her own designer tie. and maybe kissing her after. unfortunately.

wayne zamora is everything i can’t stand. smug. brilliant. always a step ahead. always looking at me like she knows i’d fold the second she touches me.

i walk into the boardroom late because i didn’t want to see her smug face again. and there she is. sitting in my chair. legs crossed, sipping her espresso like the world exists to amuse her.

“you’re late,” she says, tapping her perfectly manicured fingers on the table. “you’re annoying,” i mumble, tossing my bag on the floor and trying not to look at how good she looks in black.

she stands up slowly, like she has all the time in the world to ruin me.

“you’ve been ignoring my calls,” she says, walking toward me with that look in her eyes. dangerous. calculated. like she’s already picked the thread that’ll make me unravel.

“i’ve been busy.”

“busy being pathetic?” she tilts her head, and i can feel my heart start to race. not from fear. from something worse.

i take a step back and hit the wall. perfect.

she cages me in, one hand beside my head, her breath warm on my cheek. “if you have something to say to me,” she whispers, “just take it to bed.”

i open my mouth to say something—maybe “go to hell,” maybe “okay”—but nothing comes out.

her fingers hook into my belt loop, yanking me closer. “you’re shaking,” she says.

“you’re… tall,” i manage, like an idiot.

she laughs. low. cruel. hot. “that’s what’s got you trembling?”

*i want to say no. i want to say she doesn’t affect me.

but five minutes later i’m in the backseat of her car, her hand in my hair, tugging hard enough to make me gasp while I'm straddling her.

she pulls my head back with one firm yank, exposing my neck like she owns me. and maybe she does. just for tonight. again.

“still got something smart to say?” wayne mutters, lips grazing my skin.

“go fu—”

*she sinks her teeth into my neck. hard. not playful. not gentle. like she wants me to wear the bruise tomorrow in the boardroom."

my breath stutters. my back arches. my eyes roll back as a pathetic sound slips out of my mouth. embarrassing. weak. hers.

she lets go of my hair just to grab my jaw, tilting it so i’m forced to look at her.

“eyes on me,” she commands.

i can’t. i literally can’t. everything’s spinning. she knows exactly what she’s doing and it’s evil.

“look at you,” she smirks. “all that attitude in the office, and now you’re melting.”

i try to speak but my voice is wrecked. she leans in again, slow, dangerous.

"say you hate me again," she whispers, dragging her nails down my thigh.

“i... hate you,” i breathe.

she grins. “good girl.”