Marked By My Alpha Boss

Chapter 9

ANNA'S POV

I straightened my skirt nervously as I stood in the elevator, watching the floor numbers blink by. Floor 24. Damien Domingo's office.

My new boss.

I've heard rumors about him even before we met.

His company here in LA was the largest medical device company in the country. They specialize in surgical robotics, diagnostic imaging systems, and patient monitoring devices. They also own a network of private clinics that utilize their technology.

So I heard.

And the thought of starting work here today as the CEO'S Assistant was exciting.

The doors slid open with a soft ding. I took a deep breath, clutched the folder to my chest, and stepped out onto a carpet so plush I thought my heels might sink into it.

A sleek receptionist smiled at me and motioned toward the double doors at the end of the hallway.

“You can go right in. He’s expecting you, Miss Turner,” she said warmly.

“Thank you,” I croaked, my voice a little higher than normal. I cleared my throat, gave myself a mental slap, and walked toward the doors.

Pushing them open, I entered Damien’s office, and immediately felt like I’d walked into another world.

The windows stretched from floor to ceiling, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

His desk was massive, dark oak polished to a mirror-like shine. And behind it sat Damien, his black hair tousled just enough to make him look dangerously handsome rather than messy.

He looked up from his laptop and smiled. Not the public, CEO smile I’d seen online, but a softer, more private one.

“Good morning, Anna,” he said, his voice low and warm.

“Good morning, Mr. Domingo,” I replied, feeling my cheeks heat up.

He chuckled softly. “Still formal, huh?”

I set the folder on the edge of his desk, willing my hands not to shake. “Habit.”

He stood up, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he moved around the desk toward me. I tried not to stare at his forearms. Tried and failed.

"Let's get you settled," he said, his voice a little too close to my ear as he passed by.

I swallowed hard and followed him to a table stacked with files.

“These need to be organized alphabetically,” he said, tapping the first pile. “These need to be scanned and uploaded. And this—” he pointed at another stack, “needs to be shredded after you review them.”

I nodded, pretending to jot mental notes, though most of my brain was screaming: He smells so good.

He continued explaining, but honestly, I wasn’t hearing much after that. My mind kept drifting to the kiss in the car yesterday, the way his arms had felt around me, the heat of his body, the way I had kissed him without thinking.

God. Why did I do that?

“Anna,” his voice cut through my thoughts, snapping me back to reality.

“Yes?” I said too quickly.

His lips twitched into a smirk. “Were you listening?”

I cleared my throat and nodded a little too vigorously. “Absolutely. Files, scan, shred. Got it.”

He tilted his head, studying me with those piercing grey eyes. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

The air between us thickened, and I felt my heartbeat pick up.

“Not just filing and scanning. I want you to manage my schedule, coordinate meetings, and handle confidential correspondences. You’ll basically be my right hand.”

I nodded in acknowledgement.

And then his hand brushed against mine as he passed me a file.

It was barely a touch. A whisper of skin against skin. But it felt like someone had plugged me into an electric socket.

My fingers tingled, my whole body stiffened.

I dared a glance at him. He didn’t say a word, but his jaw was tight, his breathing just a little uneven. His nostrils flared slightly, and I could have sworn he... sniffed the air?

What the hell?

I quickly bent over the files, pretending to be engrossed in them. But my mind was spinning. Was it just me? Was I imagining this ridiculous tension?

“Anna,” he said again, his voice lower now, almost gravelly.

“Yes?” I tried to sound casual, but I probably sounded like I was choking.

He paused, as if weighing his words carefully. “If you ever feel uncomfortable here... you can tell me. I mean that.”

I looked up at him, surprised. His gaze was intense, serious.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Not here,” he added.

I smiled, touched by his sincerity. “Thank you, Mr. Domingo.”

“Damien,” he corrected softly.

“Damien,” I whispered, feeling my face heat up all over again.

I pretended to listen to every word he was saying about what my job entails and what he was going to require of me, while secretly memorizing the way his hair fell over his forehead, the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders, the way his sleeves revealed strong, veined arms.

At one point, when I reached across him to grab a folder, our fingers brushed again. This time, he didn’t pull away. Neither did I.

His hand lingered on mine for a moment too long.

My breath caught in my throat.

I looked up, and our eyes locked.

“Anna...” he murmured, almost like a warning.

I quickly snatched my hand back and took a step away, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, staring down at the papers as if they held the secrets of the universe.

“You can go back to your office now, I'll call you when I need you again.” He said and I raised a brow at the tone of urgency.

Without a word, I carried the files he had instructed me to work on and moved to the door. Just before I could exit, I heard a loud growl.

“Mate.”

And I stiffened.