(Chelsea’s POV)
I barely remembered how I got home that night. The only thing that clung to me was the burn of his touch, the roughness of his voice in my ear, the way his fingers alone had driven me to the edge. And the way the voice in my head continually screamed, 'wrong, wrong, wrong.'
Leonard Grey.
My ex boyfriend’s father.
Nothing more worse could have happened in my life.
I blocked Adrian from contacting me on literally everywhere that I could remember. But I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned until dawn, my skin still thrumming with need, my stomach churning with disgust.
What kind of sick twist of fate was that?
To stumble out of heartbreak and straight into the arms of the one man that should never, ever know how it feels like for his fingers to be buried deep inside of me?
I shook my head thoroughly, forcing myself to forget it all. Pretend it never happened. Pretend I never saw him and shove that night into the darkest corner of my mind and never let it crawl out again.
I had other things I should be worried about. As much as life sucked at the moment, I had to be strong and put the most important things first. Even though my heart still hurt from fresh heartbreak. It was like killing two birds with one stone.
I blinked rapidly and tilted my head upwards towards the ceiling to keep my tears from trailing down the corner of my eyes as I forced my head to be distracted from the negative thoughts.
Yes, I needed to find a job.
By the end of the week, I had gotten several rejections. So when the opportunity came for a personal assistant position at one of New York’s most powerful real estate firms, I didn’t hesitate. I took the job without thinking twice. That was the goal. I needed a high paying job and I didn't mind how many rejections it would take for me to get one.
My mother’s condition had worsened. Her hospital bills stacked higher. The need for surgery urgently ringing a bell in my head. It felt overwhelming, not having any other family members or a father as support. The bill was outrageous. My part-time jobs barely covered the basics. I needed something steady, something with real money, or she wouldn’t make it.
The name was intimidating; Grey Properties. But I had no choice. Fear didn’t pay medical bills.
I knew I could do this.
Preparing for the job interview, I dressed carefully, wanting to look competent and sharp. My black pencil skirt hugged my hips, my white blouse crisp, my heels modest but polished. I told myself over and over: 'This is it, Chelsea. A new start. Forget Adrian. Forget Sophia. Forget Leonard fucking Grey.'
The building towered over the street. My heart hammered as I rode the elevator up, clutching my purse like it was the only anchor I had left.
I heard the boss himself was interviewing me. I needed to appear as confident and prepared for this as possible.
The receptionist led me to the executive floor. “Mr. Grey is expecting you,” she said with a smile.
My stomach flipped. Grey. Of course. But Grey was a common enough name, wasn’t it? This was New York. It couldn’t be—
The office doors opened.
And there he was.
Leonard Grey.
The man with the amber eyes, dark hair and sharp Jaws. The man whose fingers had been inside me less than a week ago. The man who had almost had his swollen cock thrusting into me in a hotel suite before his phone saved me from the worst mistake of my life. The man who was Adrian’s father.
And now... my boss to be.
I froze, my entire body locking up, blood roaring in my ears.
All my senses told me to run. To walk the other way without looking back till I was out of this building. To be as far away from this man as possible.
He looked up from behind his massive oak desk, intense amber eyes locking onto my fear-strikken hazel green ones. For the briefest second, shock flickered across his face. Then it was gone, replaced by something darker.
A predatory glance. Something to do with lust and a mix of anger. I wasn't entirely sure. But it was as far as I could discern.
“Chelsea Laurent,” he said slowly, his voice low and warm yet laced with a kind of warning. “My new assistant.”
The room tilted. My knees weakened. My throat went dry.
He leaned back in his chair, lips curving into the faintest smile. “Well,” he drawled, “this should be interesting.”
I tried to breathe but I couldn't.
The walls of his office felt like they were closing in, the floor ready to swallow me whole. Of all the companies in Manhattan, of all the CEOs in the city, fate had dragged me right into his hands.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to move forward, every step of my heels echoing in the silence. My legs felt like they might give out. My face burned with humiliation.
It was just the two of us now. Alone in his office.
I dropped my gaze to the polished desk, the leather chairs, the endless windows overlooking the skyline. Anywhere but him. Because if I looked too long, I’d remember the way his mouth had devoured mine, the way his fingers had been buried inside me, the way I'd shamefully anticipated for him to drive that huge cock of his deep into me, finally ruining my innocence.
And I hated myself for it. For the heat pooling between my legs. For the way I shivered when he said my name in that low, deliberate tone.
But I needed this job. I needed the paycheck. For my mother. For her surgery. That was all that mattered. I was running out of time. I was unlucky while searching for a job until I found this one.
I could endure him. I had to.
“Miss Laurent.” His voice was sharp, commanding. “Take a seat.”
My knees bent automatically, as though my body obeyed him without my permission. I perched on the edge of the chair, back stiff, hands clenched around my purse like it could shield me.
I tried to speak, to offer the professional introduction I’d rehearsed, but my throat betrayed me.
He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my stomach flutter. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
Neither did I.
“I—I'm just here for the position,” I stammered, finally finding my voice. “That night was… it was nothing.”
His lips curved. “Nothing?” His gaze flicked down my body, lingering on my blouse, my skirt, the way my thighs pressed together under the desk. “You didn’t look like it was nothing when you were begging me to fuck you.”
Heat scorched my face. “That was a mistake." I said, voice defensive. "I was drunk.”
“Is that so?” His voice lowered, dark and dangerous. “Because I remember you dripping on my hand, sweetheart. Moaning my name like you’d never been touched before.”
My breath caught. “Stop.”
He leaned back in his chair, still watching me. Then, as if nothing had happened, he picked up a file from his desk and slid it across to me. “Your first task.”
My hands trembled as I opened it. Contracts, schedules, property portfolios. But that wasn't the point. Why was he giving this to me?
“You're hired.” He said, his deep voice cutting through my thoughts. "You start now."
“What?” I looked up, heart hammering.
Just... just like that?!