Chapter 1: A pervert boss

  The bartender’s smile stiffened as I swirled the wine in my glass. “Terrible,” I declared, letting the bitterness linger on my tongue. “Got anything worth my time?”

  He straightened his tie, professionalism warring with irritation. “An exclusive red—Italian, limited vintage. Four hundred and eighty-two dollars.”

  I smirked. “Now that sounds like a price tag.” Tossing back the dregs of my drink, I slid the glass toward him. “Pour it. And keep your pours generous.”

  Then, turning to the man beside me, I added, “Don’t keep me waiting. We have a deal, and you have to do your part.”

  I paid for that bottle, took it with me, and left. Later, the night air bit into my lungs as I walked, the city’s hum dulled by the weight of tomorrow. Four hundred and eighty-two dollars—a drop in the bucket, but a waste on swill. I’d save it for Sunday—a reward for surviving another week of babysitting incompetence.

  6:03 AM.

  My reflection glared back from the bathroom mirror: a sharp jaw, sharper eyes—the kind of face that made interns scramble. Success had carved itself into every angle. At 26, I’d built an empire from caffeine and spite. The wine? A flex. The penthouse? A trophy. The company? A chessboard.

  Driving to work, I pulled up in front of my pride and joy: a sleek, glass-covered building that gleamed under the morning sun. This was my building, my company.

  Theodore stood ramrod-straight in the lobby when I arrived, his ox-like shoulders tense. “Sir,” he greeted, gaze fixed ahead.

  “First in again, Theodore?” I didn’t slow my stride. “Seven months straight, and you’ll be Employee of the Year.”

  His throat bobbed. “Actually, sir, Ms. Selia’s already here. In your office.”

  I paused. Of course she is. “You’re still my favorite, Theodore. Know why? You don’t need threats—just a pat on the head and maybe a bonus.” I clapped his shoulder, feeling him flinch. “Eyes forward.”

  “Selia.” Her name dripped like a verdict. She stiffened, her knuckles white against her skirt. Anxiety. Fear. Despair. Perfect.

  I didn’t sit. I didn’t blink. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused MY company with your rookie mistakes?”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Her lips trembled as she attempted a response. “But... I—”

  “Enough!” I slammed my palms on the desk, cutting her off. “We were hacked, Selia. Our entire local database was compromised—even the backup storage. I fixed the breach, but now you must atone. Starting today, you will work from 8:00 AM to 7:00 PM—every day, weekends included—for the next six months. Additionally, 45% of your salary will be deducted to cover our losses.”

  I paused, letting the severity of my words sink in as her tear-filled eyes met mine, utterly defeated.

  “I can do anything but this. Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

  A smile threatened at the corner of my mouth, though I quickly suppressed it. Checkmate, I thought.

  I was well aware of her parents’ dire situation in the hospital—the astronomical medical bills that drained her finances. She couldn’t afford to quit, and even if she did, I could easily ruin her reputation so she’d never find another job. She was trapped, and we both knew it.

  Leaning in, I placed a hand on the wall behind her so that our faces were just inches apart. “Are you absolutely sure about that?” I murmured, voice low and deliberate.

  “Y...yes,” she stammered, barely audible.

  “And how do you plan to pay me?” I challenged. Her eyes widened, and I saw her resolve begin to crumble.

  “I... I can pay with my body,” she finally admitted, her voice trembling.

  I straightened up and returned to my desk. “Deal?” I asked calmly.

  “Yes. Deal,” she whispered.

  Knowing Selia well, I assumed she’d need the rest of the day to recover from the shock. I dismissed her, confident she’d comply.

  Selia

  I was hacked after my son sent a photo of me, him, and my late husband—a mistake I never saw coming. The moment I clicked on it, it was too late. We got hacked. I could have saved everything, but fate intervened. At that exact moment, I received a call from the hospital: my parents’ conditions had worsened. My father needed emergency surgery, and I had to leave work immediately.

  When I arrived, the situation was dire. Not only did my father need an immediate operation, but they also required a large blood donation. By some stroke of luck, a visitor at the hospital—there for a sick family member—volunteered both blood and the funds to cover the operation cost.

  Monday came, and I went to work determined to face the consequences of my mistake. I convinced myself that Ray, behind his strict exterior, must have a kind heart. But when I stepped into his office and felt his overwhelming presence, I experienced fear for the first time in my life.

  I returned home in tears. My son didn’t ask any questions; he was used to seeing me upset over my parents. Later, standing in front of the mirror after a long, reflective shower, I looked at my reflection and thought, This isn’t the worst thing in the world. I’m young and attractive. Maybe—if I can catch Ray’s attention—I can turn this disaster into an opportunity.

  Ray

  The next morning, Selia waited at her desk, spine rigid, makeup flawless.

  “Eager to start?” I drawled.

  She met my gaze. “A deal’s a deal.”

  I leaned in, close enough to count her lashes. “Then tonight, you’ll meet your first client.”

  Her composure cracked—a flicker of panic. Na?ve girl.

  I left her there, frozen. Let her stew. Pawns break. Brain-Locked? They shatter.

  And I hold the hammer.