A throat clears, breaking us apart.
A tall man, wearing a light blue button-down and black slacks, stands a few feet from us. Black cropped hair, dark features, leanly built but muscular. Despite the semi-formal clothes and casual expression indicating he’s an employee, his stance and energy scream he doesn’t belong here.
“Hello,” I greet. “May I help you?”
“I’m here to meet with Mr. Singhania.”
“And you are?”
“I’m Zen.” His voice is impossibly deep. “I work in the IT department.”
“Let me see if Mr. Singhania’s free.”
“I’ll see you later,” Yukta says before walking past Zen.
I poke my head into Kian’s office, finding him seated at his desk. “Hey. Someone named Zen from IT is here to see you. Shall I send him in?”
“Come here for a sec.”
He scoots his chair back as I approach him. “What’s—”
I squeal as I’m pulled into his lap, his mouth descending on mine. Holding me still by the back of my neck, he tastes me savagely, like a man taking a hit of his favorite drug.
As quickly as he grabbed me, he releases me.
“Send him in.”
“Yes, sir,” I push past swollen lips. The way he appears unruffled while wetness pools between my thighs turns me on.
“Iris, go.”
His low growl has me skittering away.
Chapter Eleven
Kian
“Your employees are starting to talk,” Zenith says as a way of greeting me after the door shuts behind him.
Just what I need. Gossip spreading at work, which will soon turn into panic if I don’t control it.
“Who and when?” I demand.
Strolling to my desk, he sits down first. Then points a thumb over his shoulder. “Outside. Your brother’s girl and the woman she was with.”
I bite my tongue from snapping that she’s not my brother’s girl. “My assistant has a name. Use it.”
“My bad.”
“What did you hear?” What could they have possibly discussed in the last five minutes since I came inside? Did Iris mistakenly spill the information I gave her to anyone else?
“People are saying the girls went missing last year instead of resigning. There’s chatter among the female employees, and they’re wondering if you’re taking any action in case it’s true and whether or not they should form a union to demand raising standards for their safety.”
My molars grind.
A union is a recipe for disaster. The person targeting women will flee. We need to move fast in nipping this situation in the bud.
“That’s not the worrisome part,” says Zenith.
