Chapter 300: One Last Call

Gracie had been calling Lucas since she stepped out of Durnik’s office.

Once.

Twice.

Then again.

Each time, the line rang without answer and dropped her back into silence. By the fourth attempt, her jaw had tightened. She needed him to pick up. Needed confirmation. Needed the next instruction before this whole performance with Durnik went any further than she could control.

Her phone stayed tight in her hand as the elevator carried her down.

No reply.

Fine.

If Lucas wanted to disappear in the middle of the plan, she would still do her part. She had already come this far.

---

The renovated office was better than she expected.

The moment Gracie stepped inside with the renovation team, the difference hit her at once. The air smelled faintly of new paint and polished wood. The old clutter associated with Lena’s presence was gone. Fresh light filled the room. The desk was clean. The shelves had been rearranged. Even the floor looked newly finished.

The workers were almost too attentive.

Durnik had clearly warned them. From the way they watched her face after every small detail, it was obvious they had been told she needed to love the place. One of them quickly pointed out the lighting. Another hurried to show how the drawers opened smoothly. A third kept glancing at her like any sign of disappointment might cost him his job before the day ended.

"This side gets better natural light," one of them said.

"The desk was replaced completely," another added.

"And the chair... the chairman chose that one personally."

Then she saw it.

The chair sat behind the desk like the centerpiece of the whole renovation ~ wide, deep, and obviously expensive. Soft dark material. Strong frame. Built to hold weight comfortably for long hours. The kind of chair chosen by a man who was not thinking about office practicality so much as the body he wanted sitting in it.

Gracie stared at it for a second, half amused and half irritated.

Two hundred thousand for a chair.

Durnik really had lost his mind.

Still, she tested it. She walked around the desk, ran her fingers along the edge, then slowly sat down. The seat sank under her with a rich, heavy softness. Even she had to admit it was comfortable. Too comfortable. The kind of seat that made a person want to stay longer than necessary.

One of the workers let out a visible breath of relief when she did not immediately stand up again.

"Is everything to your liking?" he asked carefully.

Before Gracie could answer, another figure appeared in the doorway.

Durnik.

He took one look at the men still inside the office and his expression changed at once.

"Get out."

The workers froze.

"Your job is done here," Durnik snapped. "Or do you want to lose it? Get the fuck away from here."

They did not need a second warning.

Files, tools, leftover packaging ~ none of it mattered anymore. The team scrambled toward the door so fast one of them nearly clipped the frame on the way out. In seconds the office was clear, and the door shut hard behind them.

Now it was only the two of them.

Durnik turned back to Gracie, and the shift in him was immediate. With no audience left, the thin layer of public restraint fell off completely. His eyes moved over her openly as she sat in the chair he had bought, lingering on her hips, her chest, the way the fitted suit framed her against the dark seat.

"You’re already here," he said, voice thicker now. "Good. Do you like it?"

Gracie kept her posture controlled, one hand still on the arm of the chair.

"It’s fine, papi," she answered smoothly. "Better than I expected."

That soft title alone made his expression loosen with hunger.

He stepped further inside, no longer in any hurry to hide what he wanted. "I chose everything myself. The chair especially. I didn’t want you sitting on anything hard or uncomfortable. Not with a body like yours."

Gracie gave a polite little smile and reached for a random folder on the desk, flipping it open even though she had not been given real work yet.

"I should get familiar with the files," she said. "If I’m going to be useful here, I need to understand the system first."

Durnik waved the idea off immediately and came closer.

"There’s no need to stress yourself on the first day." His eyes dropped over her figure again, greedier now that they were alone. "You just got here. Sit. Rest. Let me take care of things."

"I didn’t come here to rest, papi."

"You came here to be close to me," he corrected, voice low and heavy. "That part is already done."

And from the way he was looking at her now, it was clear he no longer intended to stop at conversation.

He moved around the side of the desk, clearly intending to close the distance. Gracie shifted at the same time, using the chair and the desk angle to keep space between them without making the rejection look too hard. She kept her tone sweet, almost soft, while her body remained carefully out of reach.

"If I start getting special treatment immediately, people will talk," she said. "Let me work a little. It’ll look better."

Durnik stopped, visibly frustrated, but the frustration only made him stare harder.

"Let them talk. You’re mine now. This office is yours. That chair is yours. If anyone has a problem with how I treat you, they can leave the company."

He came around again, more impatient this time. One hand reached for her waist. Gracie turned just enough for the grab to miss, already sliding another step away while still holding the folder like it mattered.

"I still want to do the job properly," she murmured. "You said I’d handle your private schedule, your calls, your meetings. If I sit here looking pretty and doing nothing, I’ll get bored. And you don’t want me bored, do you, papi?"

That made him pause for half a second.

Only half.

Then he reached again.

Gracie kept controlling the space between them with small movements, never open enough to look like rejection, never still enough for him to catch her cleanly. Every time he closed in, she softened it with her voice.

"Papi... not so fast."

"I’ve waited long enough."

"I know. I know you have."

Her answers stayed sweet. Her body stayed out of range. The more she slipped away, the more desperate he looked, like a man being offered food and blocked from the plate at the same time.

"You’re already making this difficult," he muttered.

"I’m making it smart," Gracie replied. "There’s a difference."

He looked ready to abandon patience completely and pin her against the desk. The hunger in his face was no longer subtle. If she stayed in that room any longer, sweet talk alone might not be enough.

So she changed tactics.

Gracie lowered the folder and gave him a soft, careful smile.

"Papi, I need to use the restroom first," she said. "After that, I’ll come over to you."

Durnik’s eyes sharpened. "Come over where?"

"To your office," she answered smoothly. "Just give me a minute."

That promise was enough to stop him from grabbing again.

"Hurry," he said, already breathing heavier. "Don’t keep me waiting."

"I won’t, papi."

She stepped past him before he could change his mind, walked out of the renovated office, and only dropped the sweet expression once the door was behind her.

Her phone was in her hand before she reached the end of the corridor.

She called Lucas.

The line rang.

No answer.

She called again.

Still nothing.

Her jaw tightened as she hit the contact one last time.

"This is the last time," she muttered. "Pick up."

The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Then, finally, the line connected.