The iron Queen weakness

The door of the boardroom slammed open, all the executive members flinched. 

Matilda Hart strode to the table, her heels clicking aggressively as she marched with anger to the head of the board. 

Marcus Davenport was already sweating "Ms Hart, if I could just...." 

She snapped at him "Fifty million dollars!"

"Fifty million dollars, Marcus. You lost a fifty million dollar contract!."

Marcus's mouth opened and closed. His hands trembled against the mahogany.

"I can explain..."

"No." She moved around the table, slow and predatory. "You can't. You've been coasting for fifteen years on your father's name and your mother's connections. You've never built anything. You've never fought for anything. You've never slept on a park bench wondering if you'd eat tomorrow." She said as she remembered what she went through to attain her current level

She stopped beside him. Placed a manicured hand on his shoulder.

"You're fired."  

"Ms. Hart..." he tried to explain.

"Security will escort you out. Your replacement will be announced by the end of the day."

She turned to address the room. "Anyone else coasting should update their résumés. Now. Quarterly projections. Sarah, you're up."

Sarah Chen stood on shaking legs. Her voice wavered as she began presenting.

Matilda's screen lit up, the vibration buzzing against the table. 

Matilda's eyes didn't flicker from her tablet.

​Sarah's breath caught in her throat. She tripped over a figure, her pointer trembling against the projection board as she scrambled to find her place.

A sense of unease spread through the room. No one interrupted Matilda Hart. No one. Unless, the person is curting for death.

Matilda's jaw tightened. She reached for the phone.

Why is he calling me? She thought. 

"Babe?" A deep voice, warm and casual. "Where are you?" A deep voice sounded from the phone. 

Matilda blushed.

The room went silent. They stared at their boss unbelievably. 

She picked? They stare at her with their eyes wide open.

There were only three reasons someone interrupted Matilda Hart during a board meeting. The building was on fire, someone had died or  the world was ending. Anything else could wait!  

Today, it was none of the above.

"It seems I've spoiled you rotten." She smirked.

​"Two-hour recess."

​She walked out without waiting for a response. The heavy doors clicked shut behind her, and the room instantly exploded into low, hurried whispers.

"Did she just leave?"

"In the middle of a meeting?"

"Who was that?"

"Whoever that called the boss is a life saver."

Matthew Brooks leaned toward his colleague, grinning.

"It seems our boss keeps a man at home."

Everyone took a deep breath, as if they had been holding it the entire time Matilda was there. They finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Matilda Hart has not yet stepped out from the office but words about her kept man have spread like wild fire in the company. 

*********

The penthouse was dead silent when she arrived. 

He was sprawled on her white Italian leather sofa in nothing but grey sweatpants. Bare chest. Dark hair is still messy from sleep. Ocean-blue eyes that tracked her as she stormed through the door.

She stopped in the doorway, hands on her hips.

"Didn't I pay you off last night?" She snorted.

He looked up, unbothered. "You did. Generously."

"Then what are you still doing here?"

He stood there six feet tall with broad shoulders. He looked down on Matilda.

"I need a place to stay." He said.

​Matilda let out a short, cold laugh. "Do I look like a shelter?" She took half a step back, irritated by the angle. "And step back. You're forcing me to strain my neck."

"I'm not asking for charity." He stepped closer. "I'm asking for a roof. In return, I'll cook. I'll clean. I'll keep you company." 

He continued, " sorry for straining your neck." He grinned. 

He didn't look offended. A faint dimple appeared in his cheek as he took one deliberate step back and bowed his head slightly. "Better?"

" Marginally."

​"I'm not asking for a free ride," he said, holding her gaze. "I'll cook. I'll clean. I'll handle whatever you don't have time for."

​"I have staff for that."

​"Your staff doesn't stay overnight."

​Matilda's jaw set. "Last night was a lapse in judgment."

She closed the distance between them, stopping inches from his chest, her eyes blazing. "Listen to me very carefully. You got paid. Take your things and clear out before I have my building manager remove you."

"I can't."

"That's not my problem."

​"It becomes your problem when I'm sitting on the curb outside your lobby when the press drives by." He didn't flinch from her stare. "I have nowhere to go."

Her eyelids narrowed into two sharp slits, tracking his every move as her gaze locked onto him like a sight on a target.

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You look like you stepped out of a magazine. Your teeth are perfect. Your hands are clean. You talk like someone who went to private school."

" so, you're saying I'm handsome and refined huh?" He flirts with her. 

She stared at him for a long moment. 

Then she walked to her purse, pulled out a stack of cash, and threw it at his chest.

"Take this. Find a hotel. Don't come back."

The cash scattered across the floor but he didn't pick it up. He smiled at her.

" I don't want your money. I just want to stay here and figure things out with my life."

" And what do I get in return?"

"Whatever you want."

" That is a dangerous promise but anyway it's fine. "She continued, "One week," she heard herself say. "You stay one week. You cook. You clean. You stay out of my way."

"Deal."

"And if you try anything...."

"I won't." He extended his hand. "Call me Alaric."

​She looked down at his outstretched fingers, her hand resting motionless over the door handle. She didn't reach out.

"Alaric," she said without turning around. "There's a guest room down the hall. Use it." She left to her office.