Chapter Text

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

There she goes again; yapping about Sentinel reports, about how I lost two deals to them as if she wasn't the reason. It's ironic, really: her wondering why I was so out of it as if she hasn't been taking over my thoughts and parading them like she owned them. I was one tick away from shutting her up and crushing those lips against mine until the rest of the world faded and it was just us. And if I listened to that sweet voice of hers any longer I just might.

"Sentinel has-"

"Thank you, y/n, please return to your other tasks."

Every single crease of a frown on that beautiful face of hers fueled my flames of resentment towards myself until I was scorching with guilt. I can't control myself, so there I go, being rude to y/n. It was never like this before she came in my life. I was always put together and then I just had to go fuck it up by hiring her. A week was all it took for her to break down my barriers and, fuck, I'm still struggling to rebuild them.

"Of course, sir. Thank you for your time," y/n said curtly before leaving.

I can't tell if I'm relieved or disappointed that she left. What the fuck did she do to me? Usually, I'm rational about my emotions, and all rationality was lost when it came to y/n. I let out an exasperated huff before turning myself back to my computer. But no matter how hard I tried to concentrate, she flooded my mind and took over it.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

What the fuck was I doing so wrong I had to leave mid-meeting? I don't understand; sometimes he prolongs my stay, and other times he acts like I'm a bomb about to explode that he has to get rid of. I was here to do my job, not bet on my boss' actions like I was in a gambling den instead of an office. I worked like a dog, following him around every meeting as if he was my owner. At least the pay is good, though, even if I spend it all on clothes. And, occasionally I could go on his International meetings. I was a travel girl, so how could I turn down the job offer? Even if he suspiciously hired me without an interview. After attending all his grueling meetings and doing an impossible number of organizing files, it quieted down in the office until it was just Christian working on his computer, and me standing awkwardly behind him since I was done with my work. It was only ten p.m., but my eyelids felt like dumbbells and the flimsy dam holding my yawn back finally broke.

"If you're done with your work, you can leave," Christian said in his dark velvet voice.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Harper, but my job description states I cannot leave until you do," I responded in a clipped tone.

"Well then, too bad I'm your boss and you have to listen to me."

I opened my mouth to snap back but gave up, grabbing my work bag and walking off. God, why did he have to be such a bitch about everything? As soon as I got home, I quickly brushed my teeth and changed into my night suit. Fuck my boss, all I need tonight is some good sleep and I'll be ready to kick some more ass tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Okay, maybe I was exaggerating about the whole 'kick-ass' part, but I got through half the day without cussing out my boss, which was a win for me. I was making his schedule for the week in the corner as he clicked away on his computer. I caught occasional glimpses of him. Whiskey eyes, taut muscles, broad and tense shoulders, brows furrowed in concentration, large biceps straining against a sleek and tailored suit. He wasn't the best boss, but, fuck, was he sexy, especially when he was doing that weird thing on his computer where his hands would type really fast, and then after he seemed so relaxed. I wondered what it was. Maybe something psycho like ruining people's lives.

"What are you doing?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.

"Working."

Oh, really?

"No, I mean what are you doing so vigorously yet therapeutic? You know, like when you type really fast and you're super tense but then when you're done you relax," God, why was I dragging this conversation on longer than it needs to be?

"I wasn't aware you paid so much attention to me, y/n," he said in an intoxicating, silky voice that wrapped around me in a dangerous way.

"It's hard to not notice considering your hands move faster than your mouth."

Fuck, I shouldn't have said that. Mission abort, warning: mission abort.

"Not faster than yours," he said, his eyebrow cocked in amusement and his eyes leaking with mirth.

Still don't know what he was doing on his computer, but I needed to end this conversation.

"Ah, I see," I said wryly, no other words coming to my mind.

"I suggest you don't start conversations you can't handle," he responded in a voice that seeped through the air like toxic gas.

I didn't respond and ignored his bitchy comment, returning to my previous task—his schedule. God knew how I was supposed to cram all his meetings and events into one week, but I would eventually manage.

Ring, ring, ring!

I took my phone from my desk and read 'unknown number,' which was odd since this was my personal phone and I rarely gave out my number, but I still picked up.

"y/n, sweetie, is that you?"

No, no, no, no. I ran away from that house, it can't be her, it can't be.

My hand trembled as I brought my phone away from my ear and took a deep breath before bringing it back to my ear.

"Mom?" I asked, my voice calm despite my world being shaken to the core.

Christian must've noticed something was off because he kept a piercing gaze on me that made shivers run down my body despite myself.

"Oh, baby, mommy needs your help. Everything's been going down since dad died," I winced at the mention of my dad, "And mommy's been going back to her old habits. Please help your dearie out," she said, her voice cracking and sniffles indicating that she was sobbing and most likely drunk.

I knew what she meant by old habits better than anyone. She dragged everyone down with her in that house, and I can still recall it as if it was yesterday.

Crash!
I covered Alexi's ears as mama threw a plate at dad, who luckily dodged
"Cover your eyes, Alexi," I whisper in his ear as Dad yelled at her for being crazy.
"You should've never been a part of this family! Think about our kids, Krista! Do you think they'll recover seeing you come back from gambling and drunk, putting this family in debt? Yesterday I couldn't even pay for groceries! Fucking groceries!" My dad's vicious yelling boomed off the walls.
Alexi slowly turned to me, tears and boogers all over his face, "Is mommy why we didn't get the ice cream dad promised?" He asked, his words piercing daggers through my heart.
"No, Alexi, she's not the reason. You want ice cream? We'll stop by the parlor and get you a whole stack of scoops, okay?" I whispered, my voice cracking from silent tears.

I quickly snapped out of the memory, the tremor in my hands worsening.

"Sure mom, how much you need?" I responded with a small break between my words.

No way I was showing any weakness. I had grown out of that dark space and into a more positive environment. I was different now.

"I need ten thousand, sweet pie. Can you do that for your mommy?" She asked as if she didn't ask for ten thousand dollars.

Count to ten, y/n, you got this.

If I gave her the money, not only would my savings run out, but I'd be in a tough spot financially for about a month at minimum. But... she was my mom, after all.

"Okay, mama. I'll wire transfer."

"Oh, my sweet thing, I knew I could count on you," she said before hanging up.

A beat passed before I took the phone away from my ear and put it back on my desk.

"Is everything alright?" Christian asked from his desk.

"Uhm yeah," I said even as my voice trembled, and my hands shook while typing on my laptop.

"What's wrong, y/n?" He asked again, clearly expecting the truth.

Why should I tell him what's wrong in my life? All he's done is treat me like shit, and he's just my boss. Nothing more.

"Nothing, Mr. Harper," I said, making sure he understood I was not sharing anything with him.

A silent beat passed before he spoke again.

"I'm done with my work today. You can go home, y/n," he said calmly as if he had never taken off from work.

Someone check the temperature in hell.

"Is there a reason you're leaving so early?" Maybe he had a girlfriend waiting on him.

"A very important one," he responded before walking off, "I suggest you leave unless you want security dragging you out."

God, what a bitch. I packed up my things and scurried off. I wonder what the so-called 'important reason' was, and I also wonder why I care so much.

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

Did I maybe cancel one of my most important meetings for y/n? Yes, but she looked too distressed to work, and I wasn't going to put her through my busy schedule in her state. Fuck, I hated seeing her like that, hands trembling and taking deep breaths to keep herself composed. I don't know what happened, but I was going to keep a close eye on her now. Was it something I would usually do? No, but all reason was lost when it came to y/n, especially when she needed help. However, I couldn't do it when she kept shutting me out, so I had to make a little arrangement first.

"Alright sir, it's done. What did the chick do for you to evict her?" The manager of Sky Suites said on the other line.

If he called her chick one more time, I might just plant a shiny bullet in his brain.

"Her name is y/n, not 'the chick,' and whatever she did is my problem, unless you would also like to be one of my problems." I said calmly despite the underlining meaning of my words: "Fuck with her and you're dead."

"Oh, of course, Mr. Harper. Haha... well, is there anything else you need?" He said, realizing his mistake.

"No, that'll be all. Thank you," I responded curtly before hanging up.

I laid back on the couch and took a sip of my whiskey, savoring the way it burned down my throat and simmered warmly in my stomach. I might've evicted her from her apartment and called several managers so that no other complex would take her as a tenant except for The Mirage. She would hate me if she found out, but she won't, and I'm sure she already hates me. I also hired a bodyguard, Booth, to watch after y/n. I wouldn't want anyone touching what's mine.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

I decided to take advantage of Christian's once-in-a-blue-moon early leave and go to a cafe in D.C. I've been dying to go to but couldn't due to the exhausting work-filled weeks and my body's need for a minimum of ten hours of sleep. I was the epitome of a sleepy head; I could sleep anywhere from my bed to a blasting club. I decided to walk to the cafe, which I regretted since my legs had turned into jello by the time I arrived. It was a cute and cozy cafe. The building had painted pink bricks with 'Pastry Cute' in bold white lights sprawled on them. There was outdoor seating with wooden tables and cushioned chairs, but the inside was even more beautiful. Pastry murals adorned the walls, closed seating with charging ports, and best of all was the sugary, almond smell which made me feel like I was going to comically float and see where the smell led.

After enjoying one of the best almond croissants I've ever had and writing a few emails, I left the cafe and was hit with reality again. I have a shit-ton of laundry to do, bills to pay, and, the cherry on top, I have to wire my mom ten thousand dollars. I walked another excruciating walk to my car and drove to my apartment. But, by the time I reached outside my door, I was met with a letter taped to it.

EVICTION NOTICE

Dear y/n,
We are sorry to inform you that you have been evicted from apartment 406 for commercial reasons. You have one week until the apartment clearing. For details please visit https:\\sky.suites.customer-service.com.
- Sky suites

I tore the paper from my door and read it again in a nauseating mix of denial and disbelief.

What. The. Fuck.

Chapter Text

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

The fact that I was evicted finally sank in after staring at the notice for ten minutes straight in shock. I slammed my door open and shut before angrily yanking my laptop and searching for apartments. Fucking Sky Suites, I was going to sue them and kill whoever the fuck evicted me- okay, maybe not either of those but I was going to commit one small felony. Maybe I'll poison my boss' plants. Actually, scratch that too; I'll figure out what felony I'll commit after searching for a flat.

After hours of scavaging and filling out tenant forms, I signed into my bank account. A harsh gulp ran through me and frayed my nerves. The clicks drove faster to the transfer button, the sound of the mouse heightening my anxiety until it turned into a high and torturous mountain I had to climb to reach my goal. Eventually, I clicked the transfer button, and the mountain I climbed, I also fell off of. My stomach dropped at the thought of me having to check the price of every small thing at the grocery store, and if things really go to shit, being evicted from my new apartment. Speaking of which, how was I supposed to afford my new apartment with my money on the brink? What if I had to stay at a friend's? What if-

As soon as my breaths became shallow, I stopped my thoughts. I wasn't going to have a panic attack. Not now, not like this. If I was going to get through this, I was going to do it in a calm, cool, and collected manner.

Gather yourself, y/n. You got this.

I took some deep breaths, letting them sink in and engulf me in a blanket of reassurance before carrying on. The day was shitty, considering I had to take breathers every five minutes to stop myself from crying, but I didn't shed a tear, so I counted today as a win. After getting done with the grueling task of laundry, I checked the time.

8:00p.m

Shit, shit, shit. Fuck me. I had to go grocery shopping. I thought I would have some time, but the universe really wanted to shit on me today. I grabbed my keys and jacket before leaving the house, tuning out all idiotic thoughts so I could focus on getting to the local Safeway on time. Even the one telling me I was forgetting something.

Did my paranoia make me check the price of every small thing? Yes. Did the food stamps in my bag make me look cheap? Yes. But when the cashier on the speaker warned that the store was closing in fifteen minutes, I couldn't find the means to care. When I was a cashier, I hated customers who would come too late even after the store closed, and I would hate to be that person, even if I wasn't in their spot anymore. I frantically grabbed the last of my items and sped-walk to the checkout.

"Just this?" The cashier with purple hair said as I placed a small number of items on the conveyor belt; it's better to be safe than sorry just in case I didn't have the money after the wire transfer.

I read the name tag: Isabella. What a pretty name.

"Yes, that's all," I responded, a little out of breath from running around the store.

"Cash or card?"

"Cash please," I said as my hands scavaged my jacket pockets for my wallet.

Fuck. No wonder I had a nagging feeling I was forgetting something. I left my wallet at home during my time crunch. The cashier gave me a curious look as I gave up looking in my pockets.

"I'm sorry, I forgot my wallet at ho-"

"I'll pay," a dark, masculine, and distinguishable voice rumbled behind me.

I turned around before I could process who the voice belonged to. There he was; sharp, chiseled jawline that could cut paper, taut muscles that flexed under his white button-down shirt instead of his usual sharp suit, tanned, olive skin, and honey pool, whiskey eyes that pierced through you. Christian.

"Oh, no. It's fine," I responded, hot embarrassment creeping up my neck.

Even if I needed the money more than anything, I wouldn't let my boss be the first to help me during my financial crisis. No matter how tempting it was.

"I insist," the veins of his forearm bulged as he gave the cashier his black Amex, which had no right to be as hot as it was.

I could've stopped him, but the idea of blocking his path sent goosebumps rippling through me as if warning me not to.

"Thank you," I said sheepishly.

Who would've thought my bitch boss would pay for my groceries? I was one of those girls who took first impressions very seriously, and his bitchy first impression did not mix with him paying for my groceries. I was astonished and stared at him, but I quickly caught myself as another warning that the store was closing blasted through the speakers. Blood rose to my cheeks, and I quickly grabbed my bags before rushing off. God, I really need to work on my staring problem before it gets me in trouble.

The fortnight unceremoniously came, and all the apartments I had searched for turned me down. This has to be some karma from my past life, or the universe just has a shittier sense of humor than me. Fuck, what was I supposed to do now? I had looked for every apartment in the area except... The Mirage. Realization curled within me, suffocating my resolve until it exploded into a million pieces. The Mirage was Christian's building, but it can't be that bad, right? I mean, he did buy me groceries, and I wouldn't have to drive since I would be living in the same establishment I worked at...

Fuck it. I applied for a flat at The Mirage. If I get turned down or regret it, so be it. A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do. I closed my laptop and flopped into bed, internally praying they would accept me before I had to live at a friend's.

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

The incident at the supermarket replayed in my mind nonstop. Y/n wasn't the type to go grocery shopping and only buy around five items. It would barely last her a week. Was she getting groceries for someone else? Was it a guy she was getting groceries for? Is the guy her boyfriend? She was buying the groceries as if she was scarce on money? Was she scarce on money? Did she need financial support?

A ding from my phone dragged me out of my thoughts. I picked it up and read it, pleased to see y/n had applied to The Mirage. I had a personal notification when she would, and I spent half of the week wondering just when she would apply for a spot at The Mirage. How hesitant she was on living in the same building as me, it would be cute if I wasn't getting constant images of how much she hates me for The Mirage to be her last option. I made a call to my assistant to request her to see the apartment tomorrow, and checked my schedule to make sure I was there 'by coincidence.'

I slouched on my desk and glanced at my computer which showed me Victor Black's sexual assault charges and indecent photos of him getting uploaded and then reported by anonymous users, as if reflecting my cruelty. It was a small reminder from something out there that I was too corrupted for y/n, but if whatever force has an issue with me being with her, they can try to stop me. Nothing was taking me away from her.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

My morning was turned five times better when I got an email requesting me to come to The Mirage. Was the email suspiciously early? Yes. But so was my hiring at The Mirage. In fact, everything that was controlled by Christian welcomed me as if I was some saint, but it was probably just their large staff that could take care of things faster. Nothing else. I got ready and put on a blouse and some mom jeans; basic was the safest, after all, before leaving my apartment with the weight of not having an apartment ready absent on my shoulders. I practically skipped in joy on the way there and most likely got weird stares, but today was not the day to care. However, my happiness pathetically dissipated as I entered the building, the modern ambiance and furniture speaking a million words on how expensive it was. How was I supposed to afford it?

"Y/n?" A lady in a pearl white silk blouse and grey, ironed pants called, snapping me out of my anxiety and letting the real world sink back in.

"Yes, that's me," I confirmed, giving a warm smile.

"Right, this way, please," she said as she guided me to the apartment.

The wooden door of the apartment had an impeccable finish with the gold number '111' on it. Huh, my favorite angel number. What a coincidence. The kitchen had a polished, marble island with wooden drawers that blended in with the counters. The room had a sleek, grey dresser with matching silk curtains and a soft, queen-sized bed. The bathroom had a personal bath and shower with a wide counter that left room for the spacious sink and the mirror was a cabinet. I doubted I had somehow been transported into heaven, but when I saw the walk-in closet with glass doors, I was sure I had. But my trip to heaven was cut short as the lady told me the price.

"two thousand five hundred dollars..." I murmured as if I had never heard such a price before.

"Yes," the woman replied in a clipped tone.

I read her name tag. Karen. Yeah, Karen's were always uptight. Just as I was going to say I couldn't afford it and thank her for her time, familiar footsteps echoed down the hall.

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

I walked up to y/n and Karen, taking note of y/n's flustered expression and flushed skin and engraving it in my mind so I could keep her embarrassed face in my memory forever.

"Ah, y/n, what are you doing here with Karen? It's the weekend."

Looking for an apartment I answered internally to my own question. Before y/n could respond, Karen spoke. I was going to have a talk with her about that, but that was for later.

"Y/n was just looking at flat number 111," Karen replied for y/n.

"I asked y/n, not you," I said, letting my warning sink in until her cheeks turned pink.

"Yes, I was, but..." she paused, trying to figure out what to say, "the rent was, um, abundant in price."

I would think of her embarrassed speech and overly-sophisticated vocabulary amusing if she didn't confirm my suspicions that she was in a money crunch.

I turned to Karen before speaking, "How much is the rent?"

"Two thousand five hundred," Karen curtly answered.

"And what is your budget, y/n?"

Her face turned even redder, if possible, "Somewhere between one thousand and one thousand five hundred."

I don't know where she could find such a cheap place in D.C, except here, only because it was y/n and no one else.

"Alright, one thousand two hundred fifty. Sold," I said, drawing surprised glances from both of the women.

It was a shitty business deal and an irrational decision, but there were only two things that my rationality didn't apply to: Magda and y/n.

"I- uh, yes. Of course," her voice was practically a yell of joy.

Good. She deserved all the joy in the world.

"Alright, apartment 111 sold. Karen, please retrieve the necessary documents," a beat passed before I spoke again, "So, apartment 111, an angel number, right?" Her favorite one.

"Yeah, it's actually my favorite angel number," she replied with a small smile that seemed to light up the surroundings as if the Earth would be gloomy without her happiness.

Of course, I knew that, so I evicted the previous tenant so you could have it. Tension underpinned the air until it grew so palpable that it infiltrated my body, and I suffocated with unspoken words that formed a dangerous cyclone whirling inside me. But before I did anything stupid, the sound of Karen's heels clacking in the hall drew me out of my haze and back into real life.

"Here is the lease, Ms. y/n," Karen said before handing y/n the documents, which she read over as if expecting some brazen condition to be listed somewhere.

I would (definitely) do that with someone else, not y/n. Eventually, after confirming for the hundredth time there was nothing suspicious about the lease, y/n signed, and gave the papers to Karen who responded with a handshake and a "Thank you for signing with The Mirage," before turning to me.

"I really do appreciate you lowering the price," y/n said as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

God, I wanted to be her fingers, tucking her hair and grazing the soft skin of her cheeks. I wanted to be her plushie she snuggled with at night, to be the moonlight that danced across her face when she worked late nights. I wanted to drown in her if it meant that my death would be her.

"No problem," I breezily replied as if she didn't fuck up my thoughts in a way nothing else could.

She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, like her words danced on the tip of her tongue the way mine did before closing it and then speaking, "See you on Monday."

"See you on Monday."

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

The next week I moved into my apartment that looked like it came out of a page from Architectural Digest. I was still processing how Christian lowered the price by fifty percent. First, he paid for my groceries, and now he let me have a beautiful apartment for half the price; he was turning his satan-like image in my mind to Jesus. After I was done unpacking with the help of my friends Bridget, Jules, and Ava, we all had a drink to celebrate.

"To your nice ass apartment that I'm so not jealous about!" Jules cheered as we all brought our cups to tap hers.

"Woohoo!" Ava yelled as she downed the drink.

"Ugh, your apartment is too nice," Bridget whined as if she wasn't a princess.

Yep, an honest-to-god princess, but she was so down to Earth you couldn't tell. Sometimes I had to double-check if she was real to make sure I wasn't hallucinating me being friends with the fucking princess of Eldorra, but I'm glad I wasn't 'cause she's the best.

"I'm sorry, aren't you a princess?" I asked as I cocked an eyebrow.

"Royalty can still appreciate architecture even if it's not palace standards," she snapped back.

Fair point, but I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of admitting that out loud.

"Ahem, besides that, can we talk about how Christian lowered the price to one thousand two hundred fifty dollars? He definitely wants to fuck you," Jules said, drawing a small blush to heat my ears.

"He's my boss," I reminded her, pretending to be repulsed at the idea.

In truth, I wasn't repulsed. I mean, the guy's body looked like it was sculpted by God himself, and his lips looked like they would have an intoxicating mix of spice as their taste. I bet his di-

Oh, my god. No way I was thinking of Christian in that sense. Jules's comment really threw me off, and why was it so hot in here? The heater must be on or maybe it was just my thick hoodie.

"Which makes it even hotter. You know, like an office romance. You could give him an under-desk blowjob during his meeting," Jules responded, turning my whole face red until I resembled a ripe tomato.

I didn't have a witty comment that I could respond with, so I just chugged the rest of my drink. Eventually, the group had to go home as Ava had a date with Alex, her husband, and a very drunk Jules started talking to the furniture and was escorted home by Bridget back to her house. The silence was deafening as I cleaned up after our mess, and I couldn't help but ponder on what Jules said.

"Ahem, besides that, can we talk about how Christian lowered the price to one thousand two hundred fifty dollars? He definitely wants to fuck you,"

Whatever, I was just looking too far into it. But as I got in my bed, one question lingered in my mind before my eyes closed and my breaths steadied: did my boss want to fuck me?

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

I was calmly working in my office before y/n slammed the door open. I cocked a brow at her out-of-character behavior, but whatever she had to say blocked out her embarrassment until she was a vessel of panic that made my amusement fade.

"What is so urgent that requires you to slam the doors of my office?" I asked as I looked at her up and down.

Her suit was supposed to be professional, but there was nothing professional about how the clothes clung to her curves or the indecent images running through my mind.

"I apologize, sir, but this is urgent. Sentinel has duped Scylla, and they'll announce it by the end of April. We have to do something before-"

"Don't worry. I... I'll figure something out," I said as I ran my fingers through my hair.

Y/n stared at me, and I knew we both realized the same thing. There was a traitor at Harper Security. And I swear to god when I track them down... it's gonna be one hell of a shit show. Scylla being duplicated and on the market before Harper Security was going to be a big chomp in our reputation, and I could not afford that, especially after Sentinel had already taken some of our investors. I fucking hate losing. So I wasn't going to do it.

"Arrange meetings. We're getting Scylla on the market before the end of April," I demanded, my mind already whirling with business strategies and how the fuck we were supposed to get such a high-tech device on the market in less than half a year.

"Yes, sir," y/n replied, looking at me with a touch of concern before she scurried off to arrange the meetings for Scylla's launch.

God, how the fuck did I get myself in such deep shit. I had checked everyone going in and out of The Mirage, even residents had excessive files on them. It had to be someone who was in my close work circle. But who?

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

I did it. I was the one who leaked Scylla. It was wrong, so fucking wrong and guilt gnawed at my insides; eating me from the inside out until I was just a bloody, ugly heap of remorse. I needed the money, but now that I did it it weighed so heavily upon me I was crushed by its weight and swept along its currents, drowning in the ocean I created for myself. I hated walking into his office, telling him everything as if I wasn't the cause. I loathed every single fucking word- no, lie- that came from my hideous mouth. And Christian looked so worried that I just wanted to admit the truth, and beg for his forgiveness like my life depended on it. He gave me such cheap rent, and paid for my groceries, and this is how I repay him. I was a monster. An ugly, repulsive monster that didn't deserve the boss she had.

I arranged his meetings, not putting in the effort to hide how shitty I was feeling before going on lunch break. I ordered from the same cafe as last time, but as I was ordering I couldn't help but realize that Christian hadn't eaten anything all day.

"Um, actually, do you mind making those two almond croissants and just adding one black coffee? Sorry," I apologetically ordered before paying.

I gave the cashier my card, realizing I was paying for Christian's food with the same money I got from stealing his design. Guilt spread throughout my veins like a lethal poison, suffocating me until my heart had no more space to pump. A familiar burn formed at the back of my eyes, spreading to my throat and constricting it. For a second, my vision blurred, but I quickly blinked my tears back. This is what I did for myself. I am not going to wallow in self-pity.

"Miss, you're holding up the line," the cashier told me, her lips pursed as she took in my flushed cheeks.

I quickly apologized before scurrying off. After I picked up my order, I made my way back to the office.

"Your lunch and coffee," I said as I handed Christian the brown paper bag, which he observed as if he were an uninterested scientist observing a specimen.

"Pastries for lunch. Hmm."

My cheeks turned brick red at his comment. Why didn't I get him something like a sandwich or salad? Or maybe-

"Y/n," he said, his dark, velvety voice dragging me out of my thoughts.

"Yes, sir?" God, why did that term suddenly feel weird?

"Look at me," he only continued when I met my gaze with his, "Thank you."

A shit-ton of butterflies erupted in my stomach before being dragged back into their cage as quickly as they came. Nope, no way was I going to get butterflies over my boss. Over my dead body.

"No problem," I said, sounding more breathless than intended.

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

I hated every sweet. I hated dessert, doughnuts, cake, cupcakes, creme brulee, baklava, croissants, cookies, the whole nine-yard. Did that stop me from eating y/n's almond croissant she bought for me? Fuck no. My tastebuds were undergoing medieval torture but I didn't let that stop me from savoring it like a last meal. Besides that small respite from work, I was crammed into back-to-back meetings. Getting a high-tech gadget like Scylla on the market in less than five months meant the office was going to be a shitshow for some time, but y/n made it a little better-much better.

If there was one thing throwing me the fuck off, it was the traitor. Sentinel was (for once) being smart in covering their tracks because I couldn't find shit on who could've had access to Scylla and provided them with the blueprint. Very few people had access to my projects, and, the worst part is, only people I thought I could trust had access. I wouldn't cry and be all sentimental if I found out who it was, but would I be hurt? Yes.

"Sir," y/n's honey-sweet voice led me out of my stress.

"Y/n."

"You have another meeting and you're," she glanced at her watch before continuing, "ten minutes late."

I drank the rest of my whiskey in one sip. Drinking at three p.m. wasn't the best idea, but I needed it if I wanted to get through the day.

"Get the files ready," I said as I slipped on my jacket and left for the meeting.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Work felt like war. I had to arrange Christian's overflux of meetings, get his files ready, and keep him in check, especially when he was drinking only three hours after noon. I even bought him breakfast. Was I a secretary or a babysitter for a grown-ass, 6'3 man? It was ten p.m. again, but Christian still had a mountain of work to do, and so did I. It was silent except for the clickity-clacks of us typing on our computers.

"Y/n," his voice was hoarse from sleep, giving it a ragged edge.

"Yes, sir?" I was definitely going to call him Mr. Harper from now on.

"Didn't I tell you to excuse yourself from my office past ten p.m.?"

"Sir- Mr. Harper," something flickered in his eyes at the change-disappointment maybe, or I was just tired from work, "If I go home, I would still work," I replied with the heat of a fire.

"That's not very healthy."

The fire burned brighter, "You work until three a.m., I'm sure that's not healthy either."

He smirked, "I think you forget who's in charge here," he said in a deep, silky voice that totally (definitely) didn't derive inappropriate thoughts in my mind.

The image of Christian on top of me, pinning my wrists above my head and pistoning into me, reminding me of who's in charge as I begged him to slow down ran around in my mind until it was engraved in every corner and crevice. I closed my legs tighter and prayed he didn't see how my chest raised and fell a little quicker, or how my pupils dilated and my cheeks turned red. God wasn't on my side because his expression darkened as he looked at me, then my lips, then between my legs. I glanced at the bulge in his pants before looking up to find him already staring at me. I gulped, and his eyes darkened until they were just voids of lust.

We always had an underlying attraction; it was the silver thread that wove us into making this wide, professional chasm between us. But now that chasm only seemed an inch long, something we could easily step over and ignore if we wanted to. I did walk up to him, my movements slow and swaying, but when I reached where he was sitting the little voice telling me this wasn't a good idea finally gained some power and dragged me out of my sexual haze. Thankfully, there were some files in my hand I forgot to put down and I accidentally slammed them on his desk with unnecessary force.

"Your schedule," I didn't know if that was his schedule or something completely different but I needed an alibi for the false sense of confidence my horniness gave me.

He stood up, opened the file, and put it right back down. I silently hoped it was the schedule as I turned on my heel to walk away until a strong hand engulfed my wrist and spun me back around. I was much closer than I was before. Our lips were only a few centimeters away but it felt like they were worlds apart. His eyes bore into mine as I took ragged, short-lived breaths before looking down to where I was biting my lip.

"Does this feel work-related, y/n?"

My breaths quickened, "No."

He let me go, and I ignored the pang of disappointment at the loss of contact.

"I- I'll clock out for today,"' I said breathlessly before packing my stuff and making my way out the door.

"Y/n," his voice made me stop in my tracks and turn around.

"It wasn't a schedule."

I didn't respond and simply sped-walked out of the door. As soon as I got outside the office I took a deep breath of fresh air.

Getting romantically entangled with my boss right after I betrayed him was not on my to-do list today, but life is a real pain in the ass. Something's telling me my work is going to be more of a hell instead of a war.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

It had been a week since my almost-kiss with y/n and despite my never-ending meetings and my mountainous amount of work, the only thing spinning through my mind and burning all focus like a wildfire was y/n. How she looked when she admitted our relationship didn't feel work-related, the way she squirmed; turned on by our power dynamic. It took every single fucking ounce to not take her lips in mine and claim that sweet little cunt as my own. I stopped typing up emails for a moment and glanced at y/n in the corner; eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her lip getting ground against her teeth, clicking her pen as she focused on something on her computer.

Never thought I'd be jealous about a damn piece of technology, but here we are. I wonder if she was as affected by that night as I was. I hope it haunts her as it does to me; I need that moment to drive her crazy until all she knows is me. Maybe I was being a little possessive, but what's mine is mine, and I can't have her thinking about another guy, especially not in the same room as me. I guess she noticed that there weren't any more typing sounds on my side, because she looked over at me. I stared back and our surroundings warped and dissipated around us until it was just me and her. Then she looked away, and reality slowly started coming together; piece by piece.

She was clearly scared. Had I pushed too far when I grabbed her wrist the other day? But she also walked to me first or had I misinterpreted the situation? Is she already in a relationship? But Booth didn't report that she was with any guy, and the CCTV cameras had shown she didn't take a guy back to her apartment-

Ding!

Reminder: Zoom Meeting in 5 Minutes

The big, bold words popped up on my computer screen and yanked me out of my tornado of thoughts. Y/n had (very awkwardly) given me my files earlier, so I already had that under control. The only thing I didn't have under control were my thoughts of y/n.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

I have never hated work more. Every single stare, every accidental touch, every word had tension wildly erupting from it and filling my lungs; suffocating me and restricting my breathing. I have never held my breath so much in my life as I had this week. And that one night- that one motherfucking night was the cause of all this. Why would I walk up to him and why the fuck would he pull me back? The angel on my right told me to keep my distance as I was now, and the devil on the left told me I should confront but be all sexy about it and sleep with him. I don't know whose voice is louder, which says a lot. Thankfully, work has been so busy I managed to drown out the mischievous voices in my head and drown myself in my ocean of tasks.

What I wasn't thankful for, however, was late nights at the office. It was 9:46 p.m. and most of the employees clocked out at around 5-8 p.m., leaving me and Christian alone again. This was the time when we didn't even glance at each other and pretend we didn't exist unless Christian needed something.

Ring, ring, ring!

It was Jules calling in our group chat with Bridget and Ava. I picked up and walked out of his office just in case Christian could hear Jules', er, unorthodox way of talking. Thankfully, all she had to say was that she couldn't come to happy hour this week, so everyone decided not to go. I came back to see Christian glaring at me. That's odd, he's never this pissed when I take calls.

"Who was that?" He asked, his eyes digging up mine as if trying to uncover the truth.

"No one," why did he have to know about my personal life?

"Was it a guy?"

There's no fucking way he just asked me that.

"Yes," no.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He interrogated, standing up and walking over.

He walked over to me, I took steps back, "My date."

Eventually, my back bumped into the wall and he was right in front of me; serving as a barrier from the rest of the world.

"Cancel it," he demanded.

"Why?" My face was a picture of innocence.

He tilted my chin up, and my pulse jumped, "Because I said so."

"Why do I have to listen to you?" My eyes bore into his with fiery defiance.

"Because if you don't, I'm going to gut that fucking guy from the inside out."

That sentence shouldn't have turned me on, but I could practically feel my blood heat up.

"I didn't know you liked me that much," I said as my gaze drifted to his lips.

"I liked you- no, I was fucking obsessed with you as soon as you stepped foot in my office and I swear to god hiring you was the biggest mistake because ever since I did it's only you running through my mind and blocking all my focus."

That was all it took. We didn't both lean into the kiss—no, we rushed to it, ran to it before it could warp into thin air like all of our other interactions. I could've sworn a ghost had possessed my body because the need inside of me was so wild and controlling that I couldn't believe it was mine. I hastily unbuttoned his shirt; he tore my blouse, I dragged his pants off and he yanked my pencil skirt to the side. All of our clothes fell into a heap under us until we were both clad in our undergarments. He hoisted me to his chest so I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried us to his room. I was never allowed in his room, and it looked exactly as I expected it would: lush, grey bedsheets and blankets, modern paintings hung neatly on the walls, and green plants to round the atmosphere. He laid me on the grey bed and dragged his gaze across my body.

I could feel his eyes burning into every valley and crook of me; feel them linger at the swell of my breasts and my panty line before going up to take in my flushed skin and tousled hair as if it was caressing and teasing me. We were so frantic and in need that we didn't stop and look at each other- stop and see each other.

"Tell me what you want," he rasped as his hand trailed up my inner thigh. When I didn't respond, he yanked my panty line, making me arch at the sting of pain, "I said tell me what you want."

"I- I want you," I whimpered breathlessly.

"Want me to what?" His fingers found my wetness, grazing, and teasing but never touching.

"I want you to fuck me with your fingers."

Normally I would've been ashamed of my words but I was so hazed with need and pent-up sexual frustration I couldn't find the ability to care. His thumb reached my clit as he inserted two digits and I whimpered, arching into his fingers; desperate for more friction. He pumped in and out, eliciting moans and whimpers that paired with the filthy squelching sounds of his fingers in me. I could feel my climax build at the base of my spine; creeping and creeping...

When he pressed on my g-spot and applied pressure to my clit, tidal waves of pleasure ran through me until I was drowning so badly I didn't think I would ever see the shore again. He kept pumping, drawing out my orgasm until I was a limbless heap of post-orgasmic bliss. Before I could even lift my head up, warm, large hands grabbed my thighs and spread them.

Riiip!

Foil tore and that was the only warning I got before fullness enveloped me, making stars burst behind my eyelids. I cried out and threw my head back; overwhelmed by how good it hurt. He made an inhuman, deep growl as he thrusted in long, powerful strokes. I could feel each moment wash through me; it was like happiness in how it pleasantly rose in my chest, fear in how it engulfed me, except it was buoyant where it lacked and overdoing where it lacked. A knot formed low in my stomach and loosened with each thrust until it fell free, causing me to yell so loudly it felt like the sound echoed off the walls. Christian kept going; gentler now, and more shallow until he came with a guttural groan. After a few moments and ragged breaths, he drew out and threw his condom somewhere to the side before laying down. I was too sated to care if I should leave or not, so I just fell asleep right there with a soft, content smile playing on my lips.

-ˋˏ✄————————————————————————————————

I woke up with crusted drool smeared at the edge of my mouth and puffy, tired eyes. I yawned and stretched before pausing at the nudeness my blanket revealed when it fell. Wait a minute, that wasn't my cheetah print blanket...

Realization slammed into me and shattered me into a million pieces as I looked at the room and my memories pieced together.

Oh my fucking god.

I just slept with my boss who I betrayed less than two weeks ago.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

3 Hours Earlier

Sunlight seeped through the windows and roused me from my sleep. There was something warm beside me and when I looked down, it was exactly who I wanted to be there. Y/n lay there, a puddle of drool beside her mouth as her hair fell in messy circles around her. The image of her in my bed made me remember last night, which I regretted doing when my morning wood got even worse. Having your secretary get you hard was not a very good trait of a boss, but I would give up major investments for that sweet pussy again. I took an ice-cold shower to try to make it easier to ignore the horny bastard in between my legs and got dressed. Y/n is apparently a heavy sleeper because she didn't stir at all; her soft snores did hitch, though.

I looked over to where she was sleeping one more time before going to my desk and starting my work. The morning was filled with finding intel on the traitor. Meetings, data, evidence, extra security checks; whatever we could do to find them. We were going slow. Slow wasn't going to work. I was going to find the traitor, and I was going to make them suffer.

But who the fuck was it?

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

It was 8:45 a.m. and work started at 9:00 a.m., but I couldn't bring myself to care. I felt like I was in shock for an eternity. It's okay, it was just a one-night thing: I repeated the mantra several times until I mustered up the courage to wash my face and put on my undergarments. I didn't know where my clothes were, so I was going to ask Christian, but Christian was outside taking a meeting and if I came out of his bedroom, I was sure the employer could piece two and two together. His meeting ended around an hour earlier, but I only peered out of his bedroom door just in case.

I caught a glimpse of his side profile. His chiseled jawline was accentuated as he gritted his teeth (which meant he was frustrated), his masculine nose sloped and his olive skin shone in the sunlight. His whiskey eyes caught mine, and my breath hitched. He stopped gritting his teeth; it was a small action, one I wouldn't have noticed before if it wasn't for his words playing in my mind since when he spoke them:

"I liked you- no, I was fucking obsessed with you as soon as you stepped foot in my office and I swear to god hiring you was the biggest mistake because ever since I did it's only you running through my mind and blocking all my focus."

"You can come out now, y/n," It felt odd hearing his voice after last night.

I came out, clad in undergarments, and awkwardly walked to his desk.

"Um, where are my clothes?" I never thought I'd ask my boss that, but here we are.

"They're in my room folded in the first drawer of the left-side nightstand."

When I reached halfway to his room, the sound of his office doorknob twisting came from outside the room and I sprinted to the door. I tripped and fell after I reached inside which I would've been grateful for if my ankle hadn't hurt so much that I had to put my hand over my mouth to stifle my whimper of pain. I gathered the rest of my dignity and strength to crawl to the drawer and shimmy in my clothes. Of course, since life hated my guts, I got stuck putting on my blouse after I spontaneously convinced myself I could put it on without unbuttoning anything. Christian, who must've sensed something was off after I didn't come out, knocked on the door. I tried to say I was fine, but my voice was muffled by my clothes.

Creaaak...

Out of all of my embarrassing experiences, this was the top three. Christian came in, his presence taking over the room and making everything else fade into the background. I could feel him kneel in front of me and slowly push my blouse down. After my clothes were fixed and I could finally see I realized how close he was. His lips were only an inch away from mine, and we both gazed at how close they were at the same time. I cleared my throat, and the delicate moment shattered at our feet, reminding us of everything we did, and everything we didn't.

"Why are you on the floor?"

I had been so caught up in the moment I didn't realize I was still on the floor.

My face turned hot, "I tripped and fell."

He stayed silent as he gathered me in his arms, my legs around his waist, and his hands on my thighs just like they were last night. The memory shot lava through my veins, and I silently prayed he didn't feel the wetness in my panties. He lowered me to my desk, and not even The Flash could close his legs as quickly as I did.

"Thanks," why don't they show the awkwardness after sleeping with your boss in all the office romance dramas?

"Not an issue," he said before walking out of the office and coming back five minutes later with an icepack.

I gratefully accepted before he walked to his desk, and that was the most we spoke. The rest of the day was pure silence except for handing over schedules and files for meetings.

"The files for your eight p.m. meeting, sir- uh, Mr. Harper."

"After the meeting, I'm giving you thirty minutes to get dressed," he said so abruptly I looked around the room for prank cameras.

There were none.

"Dressed for...?"

"Dinner at The Monarch," he said so casually I almost overlooked that he was taking me out to dinner.

"What do you mean?" I asked, baffled at his directness.

"I mean I'm taking you out for dinner."

"What if I decline?" I shot back; who just takes someone out without asking them?

"You're going to decline dinner at The Monarch?" He questioned, but I knew he was just being a sly bitch trying to bribe me with food and goddamn was it working.

"Give me at least an hour to get ready," I paused before continuing, "And what if someone sees us walk out together?" I could practically see the receptionist looking at us as we left and the gossip spreading like wildfire throughout the office.

I imagined my privacy sprawled on a newspaper: A Secretary at Harper Security Seduced her Boss for a Paycheck. My stomach twisted into a nasty knot and all the blood drained from my face.

"We'll go from the back; I'll make sure no one sees us."

"Okay..." Guess I was going on a date with my boss.

But I knew it was more than a date; we both knew it. Last night wasn't just sex, and we knew that too. Our attraction that simmered below the surface finally got acknowledged, but what if we doubt it and it erupts, leaving us to drown in our faults? And how was I supposed to drown with someone I betrayed?

Something tells me I should've never sold Scylla's blueprint, and that that singular decision would end me in the most painful way.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

The hours passed with its all-consuming heaps of work, but all I could think about was my date with y/n. All I could ever think about in any situation was y/n. And when y/n left, all I could think about was how she would look in the dress I sent for her. It was a navy blue slitted halter dress, which I had my stylist personally order from Chanel to make it one-of-a-kind. Would she even wear the dress?

"Mr. Harper," she looked... like a goddess.

The dark silk spread over her skin like a river, and the dress accentuated all of her features, making her look too beautiful for this earth—too beautiful for anyone to see. I owned many great paintings worth millions of dollars, but a price couldn't be placed on the piece of art she was.

Only I should be able to see her, no one else.

"I don't think you should call me that considering I'm taking you out."

"Christian, then," she hesitated calling me by my first name.

It's okay, she'll get used to it soon.

"You look stunning."

She blushed, "You don't look so bad yourself."

The conversation was so cliché, but I wouldn't want it any other way. I walked up to her and offered my arm which she took.

"We're going from the back, right? No one will see us?" She asked, her grip on my arm instinctively tightening.

I could see her worry from a mile away.

"No one will see us," I assured her.

And with that, we left.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

The setting was so cliché, if you told me that my boss and I transmigrated into a K-drama, I would've 100% believed you. What the hell was I thinking earlier, blushing like a schoolgirl and saying 'You don't look so bad yourself' to my fucking boss?! Why did I even come here, again? I paused for a moment... oh right, the food.

Or because you crave affection from your boss, a voice in my head sang.

I ignored it and swirled the wine in my glass, watching as it reached up the glass with its red liquid hands before pouring down in a graceful swoop. I betrayed him, and now I accepted his date at one of the fanciest restaurants I've ever seen.

"Y/n," Christian's smooth, inky voice drew me back to reality.

Look at me, paying attention to my wine glass instead of my mouth-watering, hot, sexy, rich date... and my boss.

"Mr. Har- I mean Christian. Sorry for being so distracted, it's just that..." I'm the traitor.

"It's just that wha-"

"Hello. Welcome to The Monarch. What can I get for you both?"

That waitress must've been sent by the gods to save me from Christian's question. I was a terrible liar, and he could've easily saw through me.

Before he could ask his question again, I said, "This restaurant is, er, very nice..." I'm pathetic.

He clearly noticed my attempts to block his question because he arched a brow before speaking, "It is 'er, very nice.'"

I blushed at his mocking, "You know I can talk better when in a work environment."

"And you lose your wit and fire when you're on a date?" Oh, that bitch.

"I don't lose it, but I was manipulated into going on this date," I said playfully with a smug grin.

"Manipulated? I remember bringing up how good the food was and you suddenly accepting," he bit back, watching smugly as pink started rising in my cheeks as I lost my grin.

I scoffed, "You brought up how nice the restaurant is, not how good the food is. What if I wanted to look at it from an architectural view?"

"It was implied."

We continued our playful banter until the food came (when I tried my best not to scarf down the delicious pasta and utterly failed) before we were suggested desserts by the waiter.

"So, what do you want for dessert? She said the crème brûlée was good."

"I don't like desserts or anything sweet, for that matter," my jaw dropped.

"Wait, wait, wait. What? What about chocolate or baklava or..." I recall the time I bought him a croissant, "Do you like croissants?"

His eyes flickered with amusement, "Nope. Nothing sweet, but I can tolerate some croissants."

My tongue danced in my mouth with the urge to ask if he liked the croissant I bought for him, but the question died on my tongue. The croissant I bought him was sweet, so of course he wouldn't like it. A small wave of disappointment washed over me.

"I tolerated your croissant, too," can he read my mind?

"Oh. that's good," a soft blush rose to my ears.

He stared at me, and I stared back, but it wasn't awkward. We dug into each other's eyes, searching for our memories, the fragile pieces that come together inextricably to make us us: our pure substance.

Then, the waitress came back and asked what we wanted for dessert, and the fragile string, woven intricately into that moment snapped as suddenly as it came.

"A crème brûlée for my lady, and one croissant for me." My lady.

The night wore on; casual talks, occasional laughs... and then, goodbye. We slowly walked out of the restaurant, stalling our time for as long as we could.

"This is where we part ways... heh." Please tell me to stay.

But he didn't tell me to stay, he didn't speak at all. I turned to leave, daydreaming about my bed but missing a certain musky scent lingering around me. Then, I felt a large, warm hand engulf my wrist. It was tentative, a carefully spoken thought, an unsure step to a new path, a ray of sunlight shyly peeking into a dark room. I turned around and gazed at those whiskey eyes bathed in the dim glow of the moon, those eyes I wanted to drink up every single goddamn time I saw them.

"Yes?" It was practically a gunshot in the tense silence.

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

My date with y/n was good, great, too great; her presence was my drug, her body my oasis in a dry desert, her voice a medicine to all my wounds, so, yes, I didn't want the date to fucking end and yes, I did grab her wrist with nothing to say.

"Let me drop you home." Good excuse.

Her mouth did an adorable twitch before forming a small, warm smile, "Yes, please."

I led her to the sleek, black Rolls Royce glinting in the moonlight looking like a jaguar about to strike. I could tell she was impressed when we stepped inside; her hands idly roaming the plush seats and the luxurious features, her eyes shining with awe. God, she was so cute like this.

"Oh my god, it has massaging chairs!" She finally acknowledged me amid her new-found amazement for my car.

I looked at her and smirked as she stared at the moving seats massaging her legs, not being able to suppress a small chuckle. Focus on the road, I internally scolded myself, but I could feel her gaze burning into my side profile.

The ride eventually ended, the luxurious vehicle coming to a halt outside of The Mirage.

"Are you going inside?" Sometimes I forget we live in the same building.

Technically, I was supposed to go to a club opening, but... I looked at those lethal, pleading doe eyes. Fuck it.

"No, I'm going inside. I'll walk you to your apartment."

When I drove her here, she used her amazement from the car as an excuse not to talk to me; now, she didn't have one. It was tense, our relationship as two people from a good first date slowly shifting back to our regular CEO-secretary dynamic. We got out of the elevator and walked to apartment 111, careful not to look in each other's direction. No one was in the hall.

No one was in the hall.

She grabbed her keys from her bag and looked up at me. She was going to say goodbye, but whatever she saw in my eyes made her swallow her words. I put my arm above her head, trapping her against the door. Slowly, like two canyons conjoining after years of being eroded, our lips met, and then it was over.

Our hands were all over each other as our tongues made a frenzied, hot dance. Her hands roamed my chest, mine roughly handling her hips. Then I remembered our last encounter had also ended in mindless lust.

I removed my body from hers. I wasn't going to reduce her to that.

She looked for an answer in my eyes, but I turned and walked away, my words tangling up into everything I wasn't supposed to say.

My steps slowly lost relevance as they walked away from her, along with our whole encounter.

Two steps forward, a marathon back.

Chapter Text

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

The next day at work was taut and tense. Everything from our last encounter was messily and tightly tangled in the most confusing, baffling knot ever. I had never understood all my friends when they complained about their love lives. I thought it was simple to solve their situations that—at the time—seemed mundane and irrelevant and could easily be solved with a small sliver of brave communication, but now I understand, and now I know that having a gun pointed at the roof of my head would be arguably better than whatever I managed to get myself into.

What the hell was I thinking, accepting his date right after I betrayed him? If I had just politely declined, I would've not been rivaling between the options of handing my boss his meeting reports or ignoring him, never speaking to him again, and handing in my resignation letter while dramatically walking out like those mistreated workers in extremely unrealistic movies. The second option was becoming more and more tempting.

Damn cinema, it warped my perception of reality and that's how I ended up like this.

Thankfully, all the girls were meeting up at Ava's house for a small slumber party while her richer-than-god husband, Alex Volkov, went on a small business trip. I was surprised, starting to think he was surgically attached to his wife's side. I daydreamed of how it would be to have a sorted love life before remembering my current situation. Right, I have to get these files to Christian. I cautiously walked up to his desk and stretched out the files in my hand like some sort of offering.

"For your 10:00 a.m. meeting, sir-," hell no , "Mr.Harper."

"You mean the one in ten minutes?" He arched an impatient eyebrow, his jaw clenched in frustration.

Fuck, just how long did I sit there daydreaming for?

"Apologies, Mr. Harper. I promise it won't happen again," my voice was much colder and professional that I almost couldn't recognize it as mine.

But that's okay. That's how it's supposed to be, that's all we are, just CEO and secretary and nothing more-

Abruptly, he grasped my arm and yanked me towards him. I let out a half-yelp, half-gasp that resembled the sound of a dying animal as my knee landed between his thighs. Great.

"Do you think you can run away from me?" I thought he was simply frustrated at my distracted behavior, but I was wrong. He was enraged, livid, about me 'running away.' But I wasn't running away. Suddenly, all of my mixed emotions that formed the tense knot tightening around me and Christian loosened, leaving gaps for my courage to seep in, along with the dangerous anger I had been trying to keep under wraps since last night.

"Oh, I'm running away? I'm running away? What about you last night, walking away without another word? Or do you just want to ignore all of your flaws and solely focus on mine? I knew you were a little bitch who couldn't handle himself the second I laid eyes on you."

He stayed silent, and several sirens went off in my head ranging from 'I just called my boss a little bitch who couldn't handle himself,' 'I'm so getting fired' to 'he deserved it' and 'I should probably get out of this position.' But before I could, an employee walked in. The alarm bells in my head were so loud and distracting I gaped at the employee for five seconds before springing myself away from Christian and clearing my throat.

"Apologies for stumbling," I prayed silently the employee couldn't see the blush tainting my ears as I walked away.

As the employee pulled him out for the meeting I continued 'working.' Christian had entrusted me with Scylla's database so I could find a lead on who had sold it, but all I was doing was covering my tracks. The small weight of regret fell over me, and suddenly I was craving my bed and Ben&Jerry's Rocky Road more than ever.

Another grave issue of mine (sometimes I feel like I only have issues with no solutions) is that this was a revised and simple version of Scylla. If I wanted to truly cover my tracks, I needed the full and advanced version, which was in a USB inside a locked secret drawer under Christian's desk. The USB first required his fingerprint and then a code. Getting his fingerprint was easy.

Yeah, if you slept with him , a dangerous voice cooed in the back of my head.

I pretended it didn't exist until I thought about it some more and realized it was either that or a robbery. Since Christian's house was full of security gadgets implanted from his untrusting heart, I knew it could only be the first option. It'll be okay; it's just going to be another one-night stand. Nothing could really go wrong, right?

The sound of a door opening broke me out of my reverie. It was Christian, looking more tense than before. I couldn't stop myself from worrying and wondering what had happened in the meeting. Maybe I should apologize, but would I really want to do that in a professional environment?

Then again, I did go off on him in the same office.

"Y/n, it is your break time right?"

I checked my watch. "Yes, Mr. Harper." It felt weird to be back on day one.

"Let's go get some coffee."

And so we walked to the local café, where he ordered black coffee, no sugar and I ordered an iced vanilla latte with an extra pump of creamer. The juxtaposition of our drinks made me slightly amused as we took our seats outside.

One tense beat. Two, three, "I should apologize," we both said in unison.

"Let me go first," he rushed out. I've never seen him like this.

"Uh, okay..."

"You're right," I fought the urge to say 'I always am,' "Yesterday was wrong of me. I should've communicated better. The truth was, I just didn't want for our every encounter to end in, well... sex."

His words hit me harder than they should have. He saw me as a person, not just some sex toy he could discard at any time. He wanted us to be real , not mere fuck-buddies.

And as much as I wanted the same, I didn't know if I could give it to him.

"And this morning, I was wrong. I communicated a little too much," I forced an awkward chuckle, "I should've understood where you were coming from before going off on you like that."

A comfortable blanket of silence fell over us, only broken by the occasional, tentative sips of coffee.

"So, The Valhalla next weekend?"

I choked on my coffee in surprise. Half of it came from how he was asking me on another date, the other half was because Valhalla was one of the most- no, the fanciest place, like, ever. It was a place ordinary people only idly dreamt of going to but never pursued anything that could get them invited. And those who were invited were God to the middle and lower class.

"Yes," the words came out before I could think of a rational answer.

After my shift was over I grabbed my bag for Ava's slumber party and drove the excruciating thirty minutes to her massive mansion. When I walked inside the overwhelming sight of a basket of carbs was shoved into my face.

"Alex got us all the snacks! He even got these Japanese matcha Kit-Kats," she popped the green chocolate into her mouth.

We had a Rush Hour movie marathon (where it felt as though all of us gained triple our weight) before gossiping. Jules was talking about her Ibiza trip with Josh, but all I was thinking of was if I should tell them about my situation with Christian. Would they consider me a bad person for betraying him?

Of course they would , the same malicious voice from earlier rasped.

I kept my mouth shut as I listened. Thankfully, no one was being pushy about me telling a story, so I blended in quite well.

I left the earliest next morning with a thank you note left on Ava's counter. Even after a fun time, a cloud of dread hung over me as if reminding me how I don't tell my friends anything when they tell me so much. I didn't even tell them about the money my mother took for crying out loud. Even when I reached home and started getting ready, the same doubtful thought bounced in my empty mind: Was I a bad friend ?

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

A lot of things weren't normal about me. For one, my family, but I'm talking about the small things like me not liking any desserts or getting more nervous on the second date than the third. I don't even know if I could call it nerves, it was more like excited sparks of adrenaline that suddenly spiked through me every time I thought about y/n, arm in arm with me, going through Valhalla, and her in that goddamn dress I picked for her. I got it personalized several times, even skipping a meeting to ensure the dress was just right, going to the lengths of making the designer almost a breakdown when she didn't get the shade right.

However, skipping only one meeting was too much. My team and I kept running around in circles searching for the traitor. Whoever it was had us chasing our tails like stupid dogs, and I wasn't going to take it anymore. I had one of Harper Security's most advanced scanners on Scylla's database—even more detectable than Nmap.

Just when I was checking Scylla's database (again), y/n walked in, "Sir, Xavier Castillo, son of Alberto Castillo, is opening a new club called Vault. Apparently, he got an investment from Alex Volkov. Would you also like to invest?"

Like that failure can do shit, "Alex has gone soft, I'm not donating anything to that disappointment."

She seemed surprised at my harshness, "Well, everyone deserves second chances... despite his, er... habits."

"Do you think I deserve a second chance?"

Her eyes softened, and something inside me broke, "Of course I do."

I let out a dry chuckle. If only she knew, "Then you read me real wrong."

"I don't think I did," she said convincingly.

I wasn't having this conversation with her, "Did you get the dress for tomorrow?"

She let me switch the topic, "Yeah I did. It was so pretty-" she paused, "We should probably have these conversations outside of work."

"You do know you called me a bitch just a week ago?"

She blushed, "I will be returning to work. Goodbye, Mr. Harper."

"Y'know I missed when you called me sir," my voice took on a darker undertone.

She defiantly walked away, and I stalked after her like a predator eyeing prey. I yanked her back, making her let out an adorable yelp, and hoisted her, having her thighs wrapped around my waist.

"Christian, put me down!" She exclaimed, but the mirthful heat in her eyes told me something else.

"Never," I growled as I sprawled her on the desk, not caring for the papers that fell on the floor.

God, I couldn't wait to fuck that sweet cunt-

Knock, knock, knock!

"Boss?" An unknowing employee called out from behind the doors.

Y/n comically ducked under the desk while I rushed to sit on my seat, "Come in," I didn't try to hide the irritation in my voice.

The employee walked in, straightening his glasses on his nerdy face as he gave a monthly report, "So, I was just sent to give you the report since my manager wasn't here..." His words faded into the background as hands from underneath the desk started to undo my zipper and take off my boxers.

I could feel my cock jutt out to the abrupt cold air, but nothing could've prepared me for the warm, slick heat of y/n's mouth wrapped so fucking deliciously on my cock. The employee looked at me curiously as I let out a strained groan.

"As I was saying, the stocks..." Fighting another groan as y/n hungrily traced her tongue over my veins before dipping her tongue in the slit of my head, I sneakily trailed my hand under the desk to fist her hair.

She let out a needy whimper and tightly swallowed around, greedily sucking my pre-cum. Fortunately, the nerd ruining the moment didn't hear.

"Turn around and give the interview," I paused as y/n deepthroated me, trying to not make any sound, "So that your back is facing me."

The nerd—though confuzzled—pathetically obliged, letting me fuck y/n's face with abandon, forcing her throat to constrict around my cock with every forced bob of her head. Each lick felt more and more hotter each time, and the tiny zaps of electricity running through me were almost too much to bear. My hips jutted forward as waves of fire crashed through my veins, my hands heatedly fisting y/n's hair tighter to make sure she took every last drop of my cum, her overworked mouth struggling to swallow as I tried to disguise my guttural sound as a cough.

God, I couldn't even finish in peace, y/n was going to get punished. Severely.

"Leave, and give me the report in written form," I ordered sharply. I have had too much to bear.

The employee—scared that he had done something wrong—hurriedly left without another word. As soon as the door closed, y/n came out from under the desk, a satisfactory grin played smugly across her swollen lips as my cum dripped down her chin.

"You shouldn't have done that," I dangerously said before yanking her head back, exposing the column of her throat to my starved gaze.

"Why not?" She was acting coy.

I bent her over the desk as she let out a surprised gasp and hiked up her skirt. Leaning forward, I whispered, "This is why."

That was the only warning I gave before roughly thrusting my cock into her hot wetness, causing her to let out a desperate moan.

"God, I'm going to fuck this cunt so good," I dangerously promised, pistoning in and out of her and molding her into a mess of broken sobs.

"Oh, God," she cried as I hit her sweet spot.

"God isn't the one fucking your brains out, sweetheart, so you better stop calling his name," I said before smacking her ass, reveling in the way her body jumped from the unexpected pain and how her pussy clenched even tighter around my shaft.

I could feel her tighten more and more until she spasmed, her pretty pussy fluttering as she let out incoherent words amidst sobs and moans. The sensation was so intoxicating I couldn't help but come a second time, my body tensing before relaxing again.

God, if this kept going my balls are gonna fall off.

She turned to me after I pulled out, looking like an unkept mess; mascara running down her cheeks, flushed face, and ruffled hair: exactly how I like her.

She glanced at my watch, and I could almost see the post-orgasmic bliss seeping out of her, "Shit, you have a meeting in five minutes. I need to go get cleaned up."

"Or you could go like that."

She rolled her eyes before hastily getting off the desk, jogging to the bathroom as she attempted to fix her rumpled skirt.

Damn, this girl is going to ruin me.

The next day was probably the most unprofessional work day I've ever had. I couldn't stop asking y/n if she was excited, if she got her accessories ready, or if she needed anything last-minute to the point where she just started giving me an 'ask-me-one-more-time-I-dare-you' look every time I repeatedly asked.

And now, I could finally see her dolled up and ready to go to Valhalla with me. She may not know it, but going to Valhalla as a plus-one with me was practically screaming 'We're together!' and I know for a fact no one at Valhalla would spread the news because they knew damn well if they did I would blow their head. If anyone ever hurt y/n I would-

"Christian?" Y/n asked, concerned that I was zoned out.

I couldn't believe I didn't notice her when she looked like that. Her skin glowed in a way that made her look like a fresh light, her makeup was done in a way that made even Aphrodite jealous, and that dress.

That motherfucking dress was going to be the death of me.

The golden cloth spilled over her lithe form like the purest of ichor, highlighting her smooth, plump skin and shiny, gold jewelry.

"Christian?" She asked again, and I realized how long I'd been staring.

"God, you're stunning," my voice was that of pure awe.

She turned an adorable shade of pink, "Thank you, handsome. Now stop ogling me and let's go."

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

As soon as we got there, all eyes were on me. Whether it was curious glances thrown across a shoulder, disgusted side eyes, or kind looks of awe, all eyes were on me.

And I fucking hated it.

Goosebumps prickled at my skin every time a set of eyes landed on me, and while Christian scared the looks away, I still felt nervous. I was starting to get anxious about how I picked up a glass, how my tone of voice was, how I looked, and it was starting to get overwhelming.

But my real breaking point was when we met Mike Kurtz, the owner of Sentinel. The person I betrayed Christian for, the man on my side protecting me.

"Mike," Christian greeted coldly.

"Christian," he cast him an oily grin before shooting me a knowing look, and Christian clearly mistook it as flirting.

"Where's your date?" What Christian was really trying to say was 'You have a date, I have mine.'

The air was getting tense. The silence between Mike and me was so unbearable that I wanted to cry at the thought of me betraying Christian.

"Excuse me, I have to go to the restroom," this was getting too much for me to bear.

As soon as I reached the girl's restroom, I hurried to a stall and dried my tears before they fell with a napkin, recalling when I handed Scylla over to Mike over and over again until I felt sick to my core.

"Where is it?" Mike impatiently interrogated in the rusty, abandoned parking lot.

"Here," I slapped the blueprint into his hand

"Heh, a little traitor you are," he let out a satisfactory chuckle, and I tried to stop a grimace from his repulsive voice.

"The money," I commanded sharply.

"An impatient little bitch, eh?" I fought the urge to punch him in his smug face, "Here." He roughly threw a wad of money at me, "The ten thousand."

I walked away immediately, my blood gushing dangerously through my ears as I wondered if this would come back to bite me.

Knock!

"Y/n, is that you?" Shit, it was Ava.

Fuck, what do I say? "Uh yeah, sorry just getting some bad cramps."

"Oh, I have some Advil. Christian told me to check up on you since you were gone for so long," as much as I was touched by Christian's gesture, I could hear and feel the hurt in her voice from the fact I never mentioned me and Christian.

"Listen, I was going to tell you guys, but," my voice cracked. God, why was I getting so emotional today? "I-I didn't want you guys to consider me a bad friend," I couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

Ava heard me crying and immediately went into the stall to rub my back reassuringly, "We would've never considered you a bad friend, y/n." If only she knew

I couldn't say anything, so I just cried. I didn't know what else to do, "Ava, they all were staring at me like I couldn't even notice."

"I know, I know. I had the same struggles with Alex when we first got married. I promise it only gets better from now on."

There will be no 'from now on' I wanted to say, but it was too painful to even think, let alone voice.

"C'mon, wash your run-down mascara," I let out a watery laugh, "and I'll get Christian to drop you home."

"Thank you, Ava."

"Don't mention it. You better tell me all the details next time we meet, especially the sex."

A few more comforting words were exchanged before she went to get Christian. He was waiting for me right outside when I left the bathroom, looking so worried it broke my heart.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know..." He smothered me with his eyes.

"It's not your fault." It's mine

He drove me back to The Mirage, glancing tentatively every minute or so. Keeping a comforting hand on my back, he walked me to my apartment, the tension thick and palpable.

Right when I reached for the doorknob, he turned me around and tenderly cupped my cheeks with his large palms.

"I promise next time will be better," he said before kissing my forehead and opening the door for me.

Clank!

The door closed, and I was in my apartment again. And for the first time of making it alone my whole life, I wish someone was there with me.

I wish Christian was here.

Chapter Text

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

I don't know if last night was some sort of revelation or just the consequences of my actions catching up to me, but I've been down ever since. My words seemed to take on a duller tone, my steps fell heavier, and my tongue moved less, even with Christian. He's been busy with finding out who the traitor is (my gut wrenches every time I remember), and can't dote on me as much in the office, but I can tell he's concerned. I see the worry in his eyes when he thinks I'm not looking, and I've been trying to make myself look happy, but it takes too much work, and my mask slips before I can straighten it back up again.

It was another late night—I've been working a lot these days—and Christian couldn't tell me to leave. People were already suspicious of him and me.

Tap, tap, tap.

My insistent and focused typing on my computer was the only thing breaking the silence. Christian had stopped typing, staring at me and waiting for an answer as to why I was acting differently. I, however, ignored him and continued typing away.

"Y/n," it was a warning and a plea.

"Christian."

"Come here," a pregnant pause, "please."

I stopped typing, gave him a sarcastic and exhausted look (a small attempt to make it seem like I was my normal self), and walked to him. He patted his lap, and I sat on it, instinctively sinking into the sweet warmth of his body.

"What can this faithful servant do to make his Goddess feel better?" He asked huskily, brushing my hair out of my face.

"This Goddess already feels fine," I attempted to reassure, resting my head on his broad chest.

"Y/n, please, just tell me what's wrong. I know you try to hide it, but you've been sad recently."

"I just... I guess I'm scared that our relationship won't work out," because of the foundation of lies I built it on.

He rubbed soothingly on my lower back and paused, contemplating what I said.

"Even if the Gods want to rip us apart, they couldn't. I will always find my way back to you and you will always find your way back to me. You know why?" Please don't say it's because you love me, "We're twin flames. Two bodies, one soul."

We both went in for a kiss, but it wasn't as rough as it usually was—no, it was slow and passionate as we both poured ourselves into each other. Our hands trailed our bodies with practiced ease, gentle as we unclothed each other, slowly picking up the pace as our eagerness grew. His hands clung to my skin as he carried me to the room. We became intertwined; slowly, cautiously. I made noises I couldn't process, it blew right threw me.

We crashed as we embraced: chests heaving and loving words spoken.

"I don't even think that was sex, it was like..." I tried to find the right words.

"Making love?"

At that, the air stilled. Something seemed to tighten around Christian and me, and then I remembered what I had to do.

Let me have this one thing, "Yeah, like making love."

I waited until he fell asleep, a deep hollowness in my chest as I bent my arm over the bed to pick up my pants, pulling a roll of tape from its pocket. His breath hitched, and I froze, but once they steadied again, I slowly tore of a piece of tape from the roll and placed it slyly on his thumb, lightly creasing the edges so I could get his whole fingerprint.

Once it was done, I cautiously left the bed, opened the door as quietly as I could (though there was still a creak), and ducked under his desk. I could see a small PIN pad with a black screen on top to detect the fingerprint. I brought the piece of tape up to the black screen. A green light flashed in the corner, I just had to guess the code. I tried his birthday, and the light flashed red. I knew I only had two more guesses. I put in his birth year: 1991, but it didn't work. Only one more guess...

Fuck, just what could it be? A variation of a word, a birthday, his favorite author's birthday?

My heart banged erratically against my chest. Then, it stopped as another thought came into my mind: was it my birthday?

I didn't believe it was mine but I still typed it.

Beep, beep, beep.

Beep, beep, beep.

The light flashed green, and the PIN pad fell to reveal a USB, but I was still reeling.

He had kept the password to protect the chip from the traitor, the traitor's birthday. It was me who sold Scylla, yet it was my birthday protecting the database.

Something inside me changed, and I felt like I was a jigsaw puzzle someone scrambled to put together, some pieces loose despite it looking fitted. The USB glinted temptingly in the moonlight, waiting for me to take it and erase all evidence of me being the traitor, promising a blissful relationship with Christian and for the big boulder on my shoulder to lessen and fade.

I reached my hand out, and-

Chapter Text

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

1 Month Later

As Sentinel approached launching Scylla, work days became increasingly stressful. Even Christian didn't complain when I stayed late at night; we were trying to get all the help we could. We didn't have time for dates or sex. The best we could squeeze in were small kisses or poorly sent nudes.

He was in a meeting, and I was asked to go quickly to the snack bar for coffee. Of course, I did as I was told since I was still his secretary. We had promised to keep things (mostly) professional at work, but sometimes, we forget about professionalism and break the rules. This was one of those times.

On the way to the snack bar, the bright white light from the women's bathroom shone dangerously, and I guess you could say I had an idea.

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

Meetings were always important to me: big or small, they all held the same relevance. I wasn't an idiot, though; I could tell this meeting was relatively more significant than others. Did that stop the meeting's value from whooshing over my head as soon as y/n sent a video of her playing with herself in the stalls? No.

Not at all.

Organized discussion came and left as the employees discussed how we would sell Scylla in time. I should've been participating, but instead, I silenced everyone with a sharp ahem.

"I'm afraid something urgent has come up. I apologize for the abrupt departure, but please continue your discussion," I said before walking out of the meeting room and texting Y/N to meet me in the office.

Mouths agape, (I had never cut a meeting short, especially so abruptly), they all stared in shock as my steps receded towards the elevator.

Ding!

I strode to my office. Y/n was already there on my desk, sitting in a cross-legged pose that looked sultry in its languid nature.

"I was waiting on you-" I cut her off with a rough kiss, my fingers squeezing the skin of her chin deeply as I angled and controlled.

Our tongues strangled ferociously and the sweet taste of her mouth turned spicy as she fisted my hair tighter. Relentless, we kept going until the realization that we needed to stop for air settled disappointingly over us. We broke away, and I had never seen anything more sinful than y/n's face. Her tongue stuck out with saliva trailing from her swollen lips, and she was panting like a dog, trying to catch her breath in a complete haze of heat. She looked at me with half-lidded eyes, and whatever she saw in my eyes made her pupils blow.

A small eternity passed in the span of a second, and then we feasted on each other so salaciously that we resembled two animals fighting to the death instead of being driven solely by lust. Frenzied hands urgently took off clothes that led a trail all the way to the bedroom. There was no foreplay; I thrust, she moaned. I went so fast that my dick blurred as it went in and out of her pussy.

Tears flowed endlessly down her cheeks as her back bowed dramatically. She was practically screaming, her body thrusting instinctively back on my cock and making her breasts bounce deliciously, all of her only focused on more. Her tight cunt was wrapped so deliciously on my cock, I couldn't help but aggressively grasp her hips as I came, her pussy fluttering desperately on my cock as she went down with me.

Only when I pulled out and saw my cum dripping out of her pussy did I realize my immature mistake.

"Don't worry, I'm on the pill," she must've noticed the small horror in my eyes.

"Good," I darkly said before opening her legs again.

"What're you doing?"

"Cancel my meetings for today, secretary," I seductively commanded.

She looked shocked at first, but her expression suddenly turned hungry.

"Yes, sir."

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

2 Months Later

I have been postponing this for far too long. Ava was the only one who knew about Christian and me, and—keeping her promise—she didn't tell anyone else. I invited everyone over for some comfy at-home drinks and prepared small snacks on the kitchen island island.

My friends poured in. First was Bridget who was punctually on time, second was Ava (who looked like she was still recovering from a quickie with Alex), then Jules, still fixing her sex-rumpled clothes. Is sex the only thing they do? I poured their drinks and fiddled with my thumbs. I was nervous but I had to say it.

"Christian and I are dating," I said so abruptly that all heads were flung towards me dramatically.

"I fucking knew it! ...How big is his cock?" Jules was the first to recover from the shock.

"How was the sex?" Ava and Bridget both asked eagerly in unison.

I was shocked that was the first question they asked, "Is that what you guys got out of that? But, fine, I'll tell you," I paused for suspense, "he makes my orgasm feel like ascending to heaven and his cock is almost the size of my forearm."

"Ouch," grimaced Jules, "That must hurt."

I nodded to Jules before glancing at Ava's full cup, "Ava, why aren't you drinking?" Was I that bad at making a gin and tonic?

She shot a mischievous smile... "I can't drink alcohol... at least for the next nine months."

Everyone squealed, and the communication with my friends returned, along with a warmth blooming in my chest.

I hope I never lose them.

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

3 Months After

Business has never been better. It was confirmed we would get Scylla on the market before Sentinel, and, not only that, we've got much more investors than them, too. However, there was still one more problem—the traitor.

I was able to find a trace of the hacker using a scanner, and now several teams were locating who had gotten the information. I was at ease; now that we finally had something, it would be no issue targeting the imposter. In fact, we could find them any second now-

A firm, singular knock broke me from my thoughts. It was Kage.

"Come in."

He stormed in, "Boss, we know who leaked Scylla," I could tell he was hesitant.

"Go on then," I commanded impatiently.

Y/n. I thought it was just me thinking about her until I realized the name came from Kage's mouth.

"Y/n what?" It couldn't be. She would never.

"She leaked Scylla. We got footage from one of the guys at Sentinel... Do you want to see it?"

"No."

He left (the smart thing to do), and it was just me, alone, in this empty, lavish apartment. Everything inside of me tensed, and before I could stop myself I grabbed a vase and threw it.

Crash!

It didn't help.

Beep, beep, beep.

I dialed reception, "Call y/n to my office," I ordered, jaw firmly clenched as I slammed the phone down.

A few minutes later y/n came, looking confused, "Why'd you call-" she saw the shattered glass on the floor, "Are you okay?" Like you would care.

I continued staring at her. Words wouldn't do me any good. She must've realized I figured it out because at once her eyes watered and she walked over, carefully dodging the glass shards.

"Christian, please, you have to understand it was real. All of it, I swear!" She sobbed, and—for once—I didn't want to help her. "I... I had to help my mother. She needed the money... I-I'm so sorry," her words were broken from hics and sobs; barely comprehensible.

"I don't want to see you right now. Leave."

The next day, she wasn't there. No matter how much I searched, she was gone.

4 Months Later

We had launched Scylla before Sentinel, leading our stocks, shares, and investors to shoot out of the roof.

All of this, yet I didn't care. My life went back to grey as soon as y/n left, and I would do anything to have her back.

Chapter Text

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

1 Year Later
Spain

"Sólo una baguette, por favor. Gracias," just one baguette, please. Thank you. I turned to Stella after paying.

"¿Qué vas a hacer el próximo fin de semana? Las Fallas se celebran en el paseo marítimo local. Deberías venir, ya sabes, salir de casa por una vez.," What are you doing next weekend? The Fallas Festival is taking place in the local walkway. You should come, y'know, get out of the house for once.

She looked at me expectantly. She was right, I hadn't really been leaving the house because it was around the time I left Christian, but it was time to discard him in the past.

I opened my mouth before reluctantly closing it, "Está bien, de acuerdo. El próximo fin de semana será," Okay, fine. Next weekend it is.

She squealed, giving me an excited nudge, and suddenly I got the feeling that I would regret this.

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

It had been a year since y/n had left, and I was feeling less motivated by the second, but—of course—I was a fucking billionaire, so I couldn't show it while I was on a Zoom meeting with the goddamn president of Spain.

"Ah, I am telling you, you must come to the Fallas Festival. Take a break from this lavishness, and come to Spain. I can arrange a small, normal, walkway, eh?" His accent rolled over his words swiftly.

Well, I kind of have to if I want to expand my business further, but I couldn't say that, "Of course."

Please kill me; I finished the glass of whiskey in one, desperate sip.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

The Fallas Festival came rather unceremoniously. I was so caught up with work (as an office receptionist), especially with the new interns and helping them that I only realized the festival was today this morning. Thankfully, Stella had already made reservations at an outdoor restaurant and confirmed my doubt that I couldn't come in any clothes that weren't traditional by responding to all of my ten anxious texts.

When afternoon came, Stella and I met up right outside where the fireworks were supposed to go off and managed to get a bench in the bustling walkway after a couple that seemed to be very into each other moved to somewhere more private (the bushes).

"Ooh, mira ese grupo de chicos lindos," Ooh, look at that group of cute guys. She pointed to a batch of guys, "Vamos, vamos a buscar algo esta noche," come on, let's go get some tonight. The amount of mirth leaking from her eyes was so abundant I thought I might drown in it.

She dragged me to my feet, but I couldn't help to think about Christian as we approached the men.

Hola, mi nombre es y/n," hello, my name is y/n. In the corner of my eye, Stella was already being swayed by a charming dude.

"Un placer conocerte. Mi nombre es Marcos," Nice to meet you. My name is Marcos.

"Y/n." A familiar voice rang out from behind me. No, it couldn't be.

"Disculpe," excuse me, I told the man I was formerly talking to as I turned around, not knowing what I wanted to see behind me.

It was him. He had changed—I could see it in his eye bags and outgrown beard—but he was still him, and he still looked at me the same way he did a year ago.

"Christian," I couldn't stop the tears flowing from my eyes.

He walked up to me, disbelieving at first, as though he thought he'd never see me again before breaking into a desperate sprint. Everything else faded into the background until it was just us, bound by every possibility, finding each other despite everything. We kissed, and it felt like everything I'd been missing for a year was compensated. I finally had him back.

Somewhere in the distance, a firework went off.

Chapter Text

THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER
I just wanted to tell you guys that there will be a Valentine's Day special and that all of the sequels will be completed during Ramadan (because I have half-days at school)

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

Valentine's Day. Everybody loves it, right? Even single people go out to clubs and whatnot to get some sort of semblance of happiness and meaning in their otherwise gray lives. But for me? It was a fucking challenge. You see, after my last meeting with y/n, we agreed for our relationship to be long-distance since I had work here, she settled down there, yada yada. And, around Valentine's, I was crowded with marketing meetings left and right until there was barely any room left for me to breathe, so, yes, it was a goddamn challenge to make time for y/n on Valentine's Day, especially for what I had planned.

My stomach erupted with nerves thinking about it.

The only thing keeping my sanity intact for the big surprise was my video calls with y/n. We couldn't call often, though, there was a six-hour time difference, and, knowing y/n, she would sleep as much as she could after work. But, eventually, I would see her soon. On Valentine's Day. And it would change both of our lives.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

I couldn't really describe how I felt about seeing Christian tomorrow. Excited? Not even close. Ecstatic? An understatement. So-fucking-euphoric-I-feel-like-I-can-touch-the-moon? Maybe. What I wasn't looking forward to or expecting, however, was how hard it was to pick an outfit. Of course, I would be going for either red or pink, but I didn't own a pink dress that wasn't for clubbing, and the only red clothes I have are lingerie. So, I had no other choice but to call for some emergency shopping with Stella. Speaking of which... I checked my watch.

Fuck, I was late.

"¡Ya estoy aquí! Uhf, había tanto tráfico en el camino que juro que casi me golpeo la cabeza contra el volante." I'm here! Uhf, there was so much traffic on the way, I swear I almost bashed my head against the wheel, Stella said as we met up at the mall entrance.

Our shopping went on and on until we searched every nook and cranny of the mall for a suitable dress. Thankfully, I had found one, but the jitters in my stomach erupted for no reason.

Why did I have a feeling this date was going to be different?

Today was Valentine's Day. Well, it was still morning, so despite the walkways and shops being decorated with hearts and all sorts of romantic themes, no festivities were really going on. That was for nighttime. I was so nervous to see Christian, especially since he told me to meet at some random open field. God knows what he's planning.

The anxious hours passed of me pacing up and down my room to get ready to meet Christian at the field. Once I finally scraped some courage off the rusty walls of my anxiety and locked the butterflies in my stomach into a cage with several locks to go to the said deserted field, I almost dislocated my jaw.

Whirrr!

"You booked a helicopter?" I looked at Christian in amazement. Only he could pull something like this off.

"Yes, now get in, mi amor."

As the helicopter took off and the beautiful view of the city cleared almost everything from my mind, I couldn't help but notice how Christian kept shaking his leg.

"Are you okay?" I placed my hand on his thigh.

He took it and kissed the thin skin of my knuckles, "Of course I am. Just wait 'till you see what I have planned."

"Dinner at McDonald's?" I asked in a mock-contemplating voice.

"If you keep that up, then maybe," he said in an annoyed tone, but he still grasped my hand tighter.

Once we landed, we took a walk in a Japanese garden, which was filled with beautiful greenery and playful teasing, interrupted by a white cat (which I kept petting to revel in Christian's irritation that I was ignoring him). The garden path led to a restricted area of Valhalla, which I was unsure about entering because of how quiet it was.

"Are you sure we can go inside?" I asked hesitantly, "It looks abandoned."

"Well, it was... until I bought it. So, yes, we can go inside.

Rich people, I thought as I walked inside, but as soon as I saw the place, all of my thoughts vanished. All of the lights snapped on, and the grand mohagony floor reflected lavishness and life. Stunning gold and white pillars lined the walls, and the ceiling was filled with strategically placed arches and intricate designs with two bright, captivating crystal chandeliers hanging from two large arches. But, what caught my attention were the curtains at the end of the room, only slightly open but not enough to see inside. Was the surprise truly not done yet?

"Wow..." I said in awe as mystical music started playing from god-knows-where.

Christian came in front of me and went down on one knee.

Uh, what the fuck is going on?

"May I have this dance?"

"Oh..." I tried not to sound disappointed, "Yes, you can."

As if he could read my mind, he smirked and took my hand, and we danced. My right hand was in his, my left on his shoulder, and his left on my back as we swayed to the music. At that moment, I felt closer to him, not physically, but in a more complicated, loving way. We were communicating as we danced together, in such an intimate way that only we could do and understand what was going on between us.

Then, the music stopped, and the air shifted back to normal, left with the crumbs of the dance.

I looked around, "Wait a minute..." we were in a completely different setting. It was now just a dining table prepared for two over a view of the city.

"I moved us behind the curtain while we were dancing. I'm surprised you didn't notice," he said as he pulled a chair out for me.

"Oh..." blood rose to my cheeks as I sat down.

We talked over steak dinner, reminiscing about my time as a secretary, joking about how I betrayed him which seemed so long ago. I was proud of how far we had come.

"What do you want for dessert?" He asked, looking at the dessert menu reproachfully.

"Hm… apple crumble. What about you?"

"Nothing."

"It's going to look bad if I'm the only one eating."

"It won't."

I stared at him, he stared back.

"Fine. I'll have a croissant, just like you bought me years ago-"

"You're still hung over that croissant?" I asked in a surprised scoff.

"I'm still hung over you." I didn't really talk after that.

After dinner, I sorrowfully got my bag, disappointed the date was already done.

"Don't look so sad. I still have another surprise."

I could feel my spirits float up in my chest, "Another?" I said a little too excitedly. I schooled my expression.

He smirked, "Yes, another one." I must've looked like a tomato at that point.

He led me up a lavish, spiral staircase which was draped with a silky and luxurious red carpet. At the end of the stairs, however, was not another lavish floor room, but a singular, shabby door. Confused, I followed Christian outside, and my jaw fell to the floor.

"Holy shit..." I murmured as I clasped my hands on the rooftop railing, looking down at the city in awe.

Lights and horns honking, the view fully captured Spain until the lines between a masterpiece and reality blurred significantly.

"I love you, you know that?" I was staring at the view, but he was staring at me the entire time.

"I know," I replied lovingly, "I love you too-"

"No, keep staring outside," he said absentmindedly, still staring at me in a trance.

I chuckled at his breezy expression and looked outside. I gasped at what I saw.

I love you, the lights of the city read. I couldn't believe it, I really couldn't, nor could I stop the tears coming from my eyes.

God, I really do love him.

I sobbed even more when I turned around and saw him on one knee. I had been expecting it, I knew it was going to happen soon enough, yet I still couldn't believe my eyes.

"Y/n, I had been obsessed with you since the day I met you," he choked, his eyes also glistening with tears, "But later, I realized it was love. Y/n, will you-"

"Yes, yes, yes!" I couldn't hear another word.

Before he even fully got up, I tackled him to the floor. We lay on the ground laughing and kissing each other like mad people. I really couldn't believe I was this happy.

"Is this a good enough Valentine's Day gift?" He managed to get out amid frantic kisses.

"Are you fucking kidding?" I asked laughing; I was euphoric.

Let's just say, that night, the sex we had was unimaginable.

Chapter Text

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

"Uhm, hello?" I asked confused as I entered the dark room. It was Christian's and me's first year anniversary, and God knows what he planned.

"Mi amor," I could hear his silky voice from somewhere inside.

I tried to turn on the lights, but they didn't work, "Christian, you dragged me to these random apartments, the least you could do is make sure the lights work."

"But they do. HomePod, turn on the lights."

A modern, lavish, apartment came to life. Firm, wooden floors, invisible kitchen counters, the comfiest looking living room... and then me, wondering why he wanted to spend our anniversary in an apartment.

"It's... beautiful?" What do I say to this?

"It's yours," and I lost it right there.

"What? You ought me an apartment?" I asked in pure shock as I roamed around. Two dimly lit, spacious bedrooms, a walk-in closet, and a balcony with flowers and plants to round it off: it was the most luxurious penthouse I had ever seen with my own two eyes.

"Christian, this is too much-"

"Well, I figured since you're moving back to the States, and since I have to go on business trips a lot, you needed your own place to stay."

"The least? Christian, oh my god," I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him and he grabbed my thighs to hoist me.

"Do you like it?" He asked as I wrapped my legs around his and felt his brick-hard chest.

"Yes, I do," I said sexually before going in for another kiss, but he put a finger over my lips.

"There's more," he replied, and I scoffed. He had to be kidding, right?

He covered my eyes and carried me all the way outside, ignoring my embarrassed protests as I felt the onlookers laser stare on us.

"Christian, put me down!" I exclaimed when we were finally outside. He did and removed his hands from my eye to reveal a baby-pink G-wagon in the parking lot with a red bow tied neatly on top of it.

Excitement and happiness rose rapidly in my chest until I was flooding with it, "Christian, you didn't."

"Oh I did," he said as he handed me the keys.

"Where to?" I asked him eagerly as I looked at the keys.

"Let's get croissants," he said with a grin.

So, we got in the car and drove off.