His Obsession, My Chains Chapter 2

Scarlett POV

Monday. Top floor conference room, King Group headquarters.

The air hung heavy and suffocating, thick with unspoken fear, like a tomb.

"This is the best you could come up with?"

Jax slammed a folder onto the long table, papers scattering everywhere.

The executives sat with bowed heads, no one daring to speak.

I stood behind him, bending to pick up the scattered documents, neatly categorizing them, and stacking them back on the corner of the table.

"Jax," I reminded him, "you have a video conference in ten minutes."

He irritably tugged at his tie.

"Cancel it."

"It's with the CEO of UBS. We can't cancel."

I handed him the tablet.

"All the relevant data is compiled, key points highlighted."

He scanned the screen, his expression visibly softening.

The conference room door suddenly swung open.

Chloe strolled in, carrying several exquisite insulated containers.

"Jax! I brought you lunch!"

Every eye in the room snapped to her, even the executive mid-report froze.

Jax frowned.

"Why didn't anyone announce you?"

"I just wanted to surprise you, honey!"

She strode over in her heels, pushing me aside without a second thought.

"Scarlett, darling, I can handle the little things. Why don't you go take a break?"

I took a step back.

"Miss Chloe, this is a conference room."

"I know, silly."

She opened one of the containers, and the rich, savory scent of chicken soup instantly filled the stark, silent room, a jarring contrast to the tension.

"Everyone's working so hard, taste some of the soup I made!"

No one dared to move.

Jax rubbed his temples.

"Chloe, we're in a meeting."

"Even busy men need to eat, right?"

She spooned a mouthful of soup, lifting it to his lips.

"Here, open up."

I saw him hesitate for a second, then he took it.

"Is it good?"

"Mmm."

She beamed, then turned to me.

"Scarlett, darling, you look positively ghastly. Too much stress from the handover? Here, have some soup!"

She approached me, holding a steaming bowl.

"No, thank you."

"Don't be shy!"

She insisted on pressing the bowl into my hands.

With a sudden, deliberate jostle, Chloe let out a theatrical shriek, her hand conveniently "slipping."

The scalding hot soup splashed all over my chest and abdomen.

I gasped, my back hitting the wall.

My white shirt instantly became a second, burning skin, clinging transparently to my flesh.

The skin, right before my eyes, turned an angry, blistering red.

"Oh my god, Scarlett! How could you be so clumsy?!" Chloe cried, covering her mouth in feigned horror.

"I was only trying to be nice, and you just dropped it!"

Cold sweat beaded on my forehead, the agony clawing at me. I bit back a cry, my gaze locked on Chloe, pure venom in my eyes.

"You did that on purpose."

"I did not!"

She whirled and buried herself in Jax's arms.

"I was just trying to be kind, and she's being mean and blaming me!"

Jax stood up, his eyes briefly flicking to the angry red patch on my chest. It looked bad, even to him.

His foot barely moved-

"My hand got splashed too! It stings, Jax..." Chloe whimpered, crying even louder in his arms.

He looked down at her hand.

Then, he looked up at me, his voice hard as stone.

"Scarlett, apologize to Chloe."

I stared at him, head snapping up, disbelief coiling in my gut.

"Apologize? Me?"

"You didn't hold the bowl steady," Jax said, his voice cold. "And you scared her."

The conference room was silent, like a tomb.

Everyone knew Chloe had done it on purpose, but Jax had spoken. So it was my fault.

My chest felt like it was on fire, but my heart burned worse.

In his eyes, Chloe's fake tears mattered more than my burning skin, more than my very life.

"I'm sorry."

I lowered my head, my voice raw and hoarse.

"Louder," Jax pushed.

"I'M SORRY! I WAS UNGRATEFUL! I WAS CLUMSY!" I yelled, refusing to cry.

"Now get out. Go fix yourself up. You're an eyesore."

I turned and left.

In the restroom, I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water over and over onto my chest.

The pain made me tremble.

My phone buzzed.

"Scarlett," the voice on the other end was urgent, "Leo's condition has worsened. He needs surgery this week. Is the money ready?"

"It's ready."

"I'll transfer it right away."

I hung up, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

Just a few more days.

Just a few more days, and I would finally be free.

I tended to my wound, changed into a spare black turtleneck sweater that covered all the marks, and returned to my desk.

A tube of burn cream sat on my desk. No note. Just the cold, clinical gesture.

I recognized the brand. Thousands of dollars a tube, top-tier, imported stuff. The kind that works wonders.

I picked it up, then tossed it straight into the trash.

Less than two minutes later, the internal phone rang.

I walked into the CEO's office.

Chloe was gone. Only Jax remained.

"Did you use the medicine?" he asked, not looking up from the documents he was reviewing.

"Tossed it."

His pen scraped, tearing the paper.

Jax looked up, his eyes dark and menacing. "What's with the attitude? Chloe is going to be my wife. What's a little inconvenience? Haven't I paid you enough?"

"Your 'compensation,' Jax, tastes like poison."

Jax laughed, a cold, humorless sound.

He yanked open a drawer, snatched out a velvet box, and slammed it onto the desk.

"Is this the attitude I get after paying you ten million?"

The lid sprang open, revealing a glittering diamond necklace.

"There's a charity auction tonight. Chloe needs someone to model a necklace. You're roughly her size. You'll do it."

I stared at the necklace.

I'd seen it two years ago, when I accompanied Jax on a business trip to Paris.

I'd lingered, admiring it. "Like it? I'll get it for you for your birthday," he'd said.

But on my birthday, Jax had been on a FaceTime call with Chloe, completely forgetting.

Now it was Chloe's prize, and I was merely the mannequin.

"Jax, I'm injured. I can't wear a gown."

"Then wear a high-neck dress. Figure it out." Jax cut me off impatiently. "This is your last task before you leave. Do it well, and I'll have accounting transfer the five million immediately. Mess it up..."

He smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Or your brother's surgery? It can wait."

My blood ran cold, freezing in my veins.

He knew exactly where to twist the knife.

"Fine."

My voice, when it came, was a hollow whisper.

"I'll do it."