Would you do anything to save your job?

Clyde’s POV

“Turn back. I forgot an important document,” I said lazily, my eyes glued to my iPad.

Without a word, my driver quickly turned the car back toward the hotel.

“You know we’re already late,” Diego muttered, but I ignored him.

He, of all people, knows my moods and should know better than to push me.

The city looked different from the last time I was here. Ten years away had changed everything, yet returning brought back memories—some good, some bad.

The penthouse was on the top floor, so I took the private elevator. Usually, I’d send someone else for things like this, but for some reason, I decided to go up myself.

The moment I unlocked the door, an uneasy feeling washed over me. I knew instantly I wasn’t alone. This sensation wasn’t new to me, and I knew exactly how to handle it.

I stepped into the room, my hand already on my pistol, ready for anything. Then I noticed the hotel cleaning cart pushed to one side, with freshly changed sheets on the bed.

I chuckled at my imagination. It must have been room service doing their job.

But then something else caught my attention—women’s clothes scattered on the floor. My brow furrowed as I noticed a pink bra and matching underwear among them.

Was someone taking a bath in my room?

The sound of water splashing from the bathroom confirmed my suspicions.

My feet moved instinctively, and what I saw left me momentarily stunned.

A woman, completely naked, lay in my bathtub with headphones on her ears.

She seemed harmless, blissfully unaware of my presence. If she’d been an assassin sent to kill me, this would’ve been the worst plan ever.

I scoffed at the thought, leaning against the doorframe to take in the scene.

Her beauty was undeniable. Smooth skin, as flawless as porcelain, and an air of innocence that piqued my interest.

After a few seconds, her eyes met mine, and I could practically smell her panic.

My gaze roamed her body shamelessly. She was a sight to behold.

“Sir… I… uh… I’m so sorry!” she stammered, her voice trembling. “It wasn’t my intention to disrespect you. You see, uh… the weather was hot, and I thought you’d be gone longer, so I decided to—”

“You decided to soak in my bathtub,” I interrupted, my tone flat.

Her fear was evident as she cowered in the water, crossing her arms over her chest in a feeble attempt to shield herself.

Blonde hair, blue eyes like a clear sky, and lips so small they looked untouched.

Something about her drew me in.

“Get out of the water,” I commanded, my voice firm.

Her eyes widened at my words. She glanced at the stack of towels a few steps away and then back at me.

“Could you… uh… please step out first?” she whispered, barely audible.

A chuckle escaped my lips. Poor thing, she had no idea who I was or the kind of trouble she was in.

“I’m not moving an inch. Get out.”

Her lips trembled, and her long lashes fluttered in fear.

She stared at me like a cornered animal, her heart beating so loudly I was sure I could hear it. Fear rolled off her in waves, raw and unmistakable.

I knew what I looked like to her. Tall. Unmoving. Raven-black hair falling over my forehead, my black shirt tucked neatly into matching pants, outlining my broad frame. My sleeves were rolled up, tattoos exposed, skin warm and solid. Men bowed to me without thinking. Women hesitated before breathing.

Authority clung to me without effort. It always had.

She bit her lip, eyes flickering over me before darting away. I’d just ordered her to get out of the water. Naked. The realization hit her all at once.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” I said, irritation sharpening my voice.

She braced herself like she was preparing for impact. Slowly, she stood. Water slid down her trembling body, droplets clinging to her skin as she tried—poorly—to cover herself with her hands.

My gaze followed her without apology. Every movement. Every shiver. Her attempts to shield herself were useless. I saw everything, and she knew it.

I remained still, my face carefully blank, though something dark stirred in my eyes. Something I didn’t bother to stop.

“Come here,” I ordered.

She hesitated, then obeyed. Each step toward me was cautious, hesitant. I felt the heat of her even before she reached me, felt her fear spike as the distance between us disappeared.

I lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes were wide, glassy, trapped. The air between us tightened, thick with something unspoken and dangerous.

“Do you know where you are?” I asked, my voice low, controlled, as my thumb brushed lightly against her jaw.

Confusion crossed her face. “Uh… the penthouse?”

A quiet chuckle slipped from me. Innocent. Almost painfully so.

My eyes drifted again, lingering on her chest, the rise and fall of her breath betraying her panic. Normally, this would have been simple. Anyone else would’ve been fired without a second thought.

But she wasn’t just anyone.

There was a pull—sharp, undeniable. One I didn’t understand and didn’t like. My thoughts clouded, my focus narrowing to her skin, her scent, the way she stood there despite her fear.

“Sir, I’m so sorry,” she pleaded, her voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to take a bath in your tub. Please don’t report me. I’ll lose my job.”

I listened without interrupting, my gaze never leaving her face.

“Would you do anything to keep your job?” I asked.

“Yes, sir! Anything!” No hesitation. None at all.

“Are you sure?” I pressed, studying her closely.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, nodding.

A slow smile curved my lips. Controlled. Calculated.

She was exactly where I wanted her.

“Close your eyes,” I murmured, my voice dropping, turning dangerous.

She obeyed. Her heart raced. I could see it, feel it.

She had no idea what she’d just agreed to.