Chapter 1: Rule of Dibs

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Liam Vance's world tilted on its axis.

She stepped into the marble lobby of Vance & Sterling like she owned the place—confident, radiant, and completely unaware of the seismic shift she'd just caused in his carefully ordered universe. Auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, catching the morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her emerald blouse hugged curves that made his mouth go dry, but it was her eyes that stopped him cold. Hazel, bright with mischief, and looking directly at him.

"You must be Liam Vance," she said, extending her hand with a smile that could melt steel. "I'm Chloe Sterling, the new apprentice. I've heard so much about you."

Her fingers were warm against his palm, and he held them a fraction too long. Professional composure—the armor he'd worn for years—cracked at the edges.

"Welcome to the team," he managed, his voice rougher than intended.

Get it together, Vance.

But as she walked beside him toward the elevator bank, her subtle perfume filling the small space, Liam knew his legendary self-control was about to face its greatest test.

---

"Dibs!"

Marcus from accounting called out the moment Chloe walked past the break room, coffee in hand, completely oblivious to the male attention she commanded. The word sparked a round of chuckles from the guys gathered around the coffee machine.

"Too late," Jake from IT grinned. "I called dibs yesterday when HR sent the memo."

"Gentlemen," Liam's voice cut through their juvenile banter as he approached, his tone carrying the authority that had earned him respect—and fear—throughout the firm. "Ms. Sterling is here to work, not to be the subject of your locker room fantasies."

The group dispersed quickly, muttering apologies, but not before Marcus shot him a knowing look. "Relax, boss. Just having some fun. Unless..." He paused, studying Liam's carefully neutral expression. "You're calling dibs yourself?"

The words hung in the air like a challenge. Liam's jaw tightened imperceptibly. "Don't be ridiculous."

But as Marcus walked away with a smirk, something dark and possessive unfurled in Liam's chest. The joke felt like a prophecy he was powerless to resist.

---

By afternoon, the tension was unbearable.

Every meeting felt like torture. Chloe sat across from him during the client presentation, her lips curved in concentration as she took notes, and all he could think about was what those lips would feel like against his. When she leaned forward to point out a design element, her blouse gaped slightly, offering a glimpse of lace that made his hands clench beneath the conference table.

She caught him staring once, and instead of looking away embarrassed, she held his gaze with a boldness that made his pulse race. The corner of her mouth quirked up in the faintest suggestion of a smile before she turned back to her notes, leaving him aching and off-balance.

This is insane, he told himself. She's an employee. You're her supervisor. There are rules.

But rules had never felt so meaningless.

---

The office was nearly empty by seven PM. Liam sat in his corner office, staring at quarterly reports that might as well have been written in ancient Greek. Every number blurred together, replaced by visions of hazel eyes and auburn hair.

A soft knock interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

"Come in."

Chloe stepped into his office, and the sight of her hit him like a physical blow. She'd loosened her hair from its professional ponytail, letting it fall in waves around her face. Her blouse had wrinkled slightly from the long day, making her look softer, more approachable.

More dangerous.

"I wanted to thank you," she said, closing the door behind her. "For what you said this morning. About the guys and their... comments."

"It was unprofessional," he replied, his voice carefully measured. "They were out of line."

She moved closer, perching on the edge of his desk with casual confidence that made his throat constrict. "Still. It was sweet of you to defend my honor." Her lips curved in that maddening smile. "Though I have to ask—were you really defending me, or were you just staking your claim?"

The question hung between them like a lit fuse.

"I don't know what you mean," he lied.

"Don't you?" She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Because if I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous. Like maybe you wanted to call dibs yourself."

Fuck the rules.

The thought blazed through his mind with crystal clarity. He stood slowly, moving around the desk until he was close enough to catch her perfume, close enough to see the pulse fluttering at her throat.

"And what if I did?" he asked, his voice low and rough with want.

Her breath caught, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The office felt charged, electric, like the air before a storm.

Then she smiled—not the professional, careful smile she'd worn all day, but something wild and knowing that made his knees weak.

"Then I'd say it's about time," she whispered.

---

What happened next shattered every rule Liam had lived by.

Later, much later, when they were both breathless and tangled together in the back seat of his BMW in the empty parking garage, Chloe traced lazy patterns on his chest with her fingertip.

"So," she murmured against his skin, her voice husky with satisfaction. "I guess that settles the dibs question."

He laughed—actually laughed—for the first time in months. "I suppose it does."

She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes bright with mischief and something deeper. "But you know, after what just happened... I think you might owe me."

"Owe you?" He raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself.

"Mmm." She pressed a kiss to his jaw, her lips soft and warm. "I mean, I did just rock your world in the back seat of your very expensive car. Seems like the kind of thing that deserves proper... appreciation."

Heat flared in his chest at her boldness. This woman—this incredible, fearless woman—was unlike anyone he'd ever met. She made him feel alive in ways he'd forgotten were possible.

"And how exactly would I show this appreciation?" he asked, his hands finding the curve of her waist.

Her smile was pure sin. "Oh, I'll think of something. After all, I know where you work."

As she gathered her clothes and prepared to leave, Liam realized his carefully controlled world had just exploded into beautiful chaos. The woman sliding back into her emerald blouse had claimed him as thoroughly as he'd claimed her.

And God help him, he was already counting the hours until he could pay whatever debt she demanded.

"Same time tomorrow?" she asked, straightening her skirt with practiced efficiency.

"Chloe," he said, his voice rough with warning and promise. "You have no idea what you're starting."

She paused at the car door, looking back at him with eyes that held secrets and fire.

"Oh, Liam," she said softly. "I'm counting on it."

The car door closed with a soft click, leaving him alone in the dim garage with the lingering scent of her perfume and the devastating knowledge that his life would never be the same.

Dibs, he thought with dark satisfaction. She's mine.

But as he watched her walk away, hips swaying with unconscious grace, one thought echoed in his mind: the game had only just begun, and he had the sinking feeling that Chloe Sterling held all the cards.

The debt was real. And tomorrow, he'd start paying it.