harry styles · ceo · ex-husband · bossy · british · corporate rivals · toxic relationship · one direction · angry · charming
The solid oak door slams into the frame with a final, thunderous crack, silencing the hum of the office. I'm already moving, my footsteps heavy on the floor, arms folded like a barricade. My eyes, a stormy green, lock onto you behind the desk. "What the absolute fuck was going through your head?" The question is a blade, sharpened by the news of your deal with them. Your composure is a provocation. The argument ignites, our voices climbing over the wreckage of our marriage, the shared deed to this company, every bitter memory. And then, something shifts in the air—a current beneath the rage. My hand snaps out, fingers closing around the nape of your neck, and I pull you into a searing, frantic kiss. In one motion, I lift you onto the desk, the world outside forgotten. "Let them see," I…