Legally Not Yours

The Master of the Game

The calm didn’t last. Not that I expected it to.

After everything we’d done in that meeting room, everything we had been at that moment, I knew things wouldn’t go back to normal. How could they? But what I hadn’t prepared for was how quickly it would all fall apart. I never imagined we’d go back to this.

The silence was laced with venom. The low blows whispered behind closed office doors. The sharp glares across desks, the kind that could cut through the air like knives instead of the usual professional pleasantries.

There was no pretending anymore, no quiet truce. Everything between us had shattered, and I didn’t know if there was any way to pick up the pieces.

And worse—everything around us started to collapse.

It started small at first. Little things I could easily write off as coincidence—until they weren’t. A corrupted slide deck that should have been perfect. An important email that never arrived in Jeff’s inbox. A shared calendar notification that mysteriously disappeared, wiped clean without explanation.

Jared blamed me, of course. And I blamed him back harder.

“You deleted it,” he said the second we entered the conference room. He was already standing there, arms crossed, looking like he was about to explode. “Just admit it.”

“I didn’t even touch that file,” I snapped, the words sharp, almost like a challenge. “Maybe if you stopped working like you’re the only genius in the building, you’d catch your own mistakes.”

His jaw clenched as he stepped closer, invading my space. “I double-checked it. You had access after I saved it.”

“Oh please,” I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re the only person I know who can screw up a presentation and still pretend it was sabotage.”

“You’ve been trying to outshine me since the day you walked in here,” he said, his voice tight with frustration.

I folded my arms across my chest, standing my ground. “Because I have outshined you. Every time.”

His eyes flashed with something darker. “Not in Jeff’s eyes.”

I smirked, the words rolling off my tongue before I could stop them. “Then why did he ask me to lead the pitch and tell you to support me?”

His jaw tightened even more, and I could hear the grind of his teeth. The silence between us thickened, heavy with unspoken words and resentment.

“You know what your problem is, Rosewood?” he said, his voice cold and steady, but his gaze burning through me. “You think every time someone pushes back, it’s because they’re afraid of your brilliance. Maybe it’s just because you’re a stubborn, arrogant control freak who can’t function unless the entire room is bowing at her feet.”

I laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. “That’s rich coming from the human embodiment of ego in a thousand-dollar suit.”

He stepped closer, his breath warm against my face. “You really think I’m intimidated by you?”

“I think you were the second I walked into that firm and made you feel like less.”

His eyes darkened, and for a second, I thought I might have gone too far. But then he spoke, his words low and dangerous.

“You didn’t make me feel less. You made me feel everything I didn’t want to.”

That struck me harder than I wanted to admit. For just a moment, I was thrown off balance. But I refused to let him see it.

“Poor Jared,” I said, my voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Did the scholarship girl bruise your perfectly polished pride?”

He took a step forward again, so close I could feel his heat radiating off him. “You think you’re better than me?” His voice was low, the question laced with something darker, more dangerous than before.

“I know I am,” I said, my voice steady, unwavering.

He let out a quiet, bitter laugh, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in.

“You know what the difference is between us, Leah?” he said, voice slow, like he was savoring every word. “You’re still trying to prove something. I’ve already won.”

I didn’t even think before I stepped into him, the words coming out faster than my brain could process them.

“No, you haven’t. You think money and power mean you’ve made it? You still beg for approval like a boy desperate for his father’s attention. You wear confidence like it’s tailored, but inside, you’re terrified someone’s going to realize you’re not actually worth a damn.”

The words landed between us like a punch. For a moment, I thought he might yell. Shout. Break something. But instead, he froze, his eyes locked onto mine, and the world seemed to stop moving.

Silently, we stood there, the air thick with rage and something else—something dangerous, almost magnetic.

Finally, he spoke. “You don’t know me.” His voice was quieter now, almost too calm.

“I know enough,” I muttered, refusing to break eye contact.

He scoffed, a bitter sound escaping him. “And you’re no mystery either. You act like you’re untouchable, like you’re above all of it, but deep down, you want someone to knock you off your high horse. You want to be challenged, dominated, pushed until you break.”

I felt my entire body go rigid at his words. The accusation hung in the air between us like a heavy weight, suffocating the space.

“I hate you,” I whispered, the words feeling almost too fragile to say out loud.

He smiled then, that devil-may-care grin that made my blood boil. “I know.”

***

It got worse the next day, I walked into the office to find my desk completely empty. Everything. Gone. My files, my notes, my laptop dock—everything I had worked on was just… missing.

“What the hell?” I muttered, spinning around in confusion, looking for any explanation.

Across the room, Jared was standing on a call. When he saw me, he raised an eyebrow, slow and deliberate, then turned away without a word. I stormed over to him, fury rising in my chest.

“Where are my things?” I demanded, my voice low but shaking with barely contained anger.

“I don’t know,” he said, his tone bland, like he didn’t care. “Maybe you pissed off the wrong assistant.”

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I fought the urge to lash out. “Or maybe you can’t stand not being the smartest person in the room.”

He ended his call with a slow, deliberate press of the button. The sound of it felt like an accusation, like everything he was doing was calculated.

“Maybe I’m just tired of pretending you’re not a threat,” he said, his voice flat but with an edge of something darker.

We stood there, inches apart but miles away, heat radiating between us, but no contact. Just rage. Just war. And yet… My body still reacted to him. My pulse spiked the moment he spoke. My mouth still remembered the feel of his.

It was twisted. Vile, addictive, and we were both spiraling fast.

Later that night, I sat in the silence of my apartment, my mind still buzzing with everything that had happened. The text from Carlson flashed on my phone screen.

“How’s everything going? You seem a little tense.”

I stared at the message, the words swimming in front of me as I tried to make sense of them. Carlson. He was the better brother, the easier one to talk to. But tonight? I didn’t have the energy.

I didn’t have the patience to deal with anyone who wasn’t him. Not after everything Jared had put me through.

So I didn’t respond.

But that feeling, the one Jared had left me with, wouldn’t go away. It was a storm. A whirlwind. And I couldn’t escape it, no matter how hard I tried.