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Chapter 27: The Rescue
publish date:
2026-07-09 15:46:59
Latest chapter
I Was Hired To Seduce My Boss Chapter 86: Silence Grief
Zoe The first sign comes in the middle of the night. I wake with a start, my skin slick with sweat, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged bird. The room is dark, the only light a thin sliver of moonlight filtering through the gap in the curtains. I press my palm to my forehead, and the heat radiating from my skin startles me. I am burning up. I try to sit up, but the room tilts, spinning in slow, nauseating circles. I grip the edge of the mattress, my knuckles white, and I wait for the world to steady itself. It does not. I hear Liam's voice from somewhere far away, muffled and distant, as if he is calling to me from the other end of a long tunnel. I try to answer, but the words will not come. My throat is dry, raw, as if I have been screaming for hours. And then everything goes dark. I wake up to the smell of woodsmoke and something else, something sharp and medicinal. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the ceiling, and I feel the weight
I Was Hired To Seduce My Boss Chapter 85: Survival
Liam The cold water hits my face like a slap, and I grip the edges of the sink, staring at my reflection in the cracked mirror above the basin. The man staring back at me is a stranger—dark circles carved beneath his eyes, hollow cheeks, a jaw tight with tension that has not eased in days. I do not recognize him. I do not want to. I have been standing here for minutes and hours, I can not tell. The water drips from my chin, pooling on the worn wooden counter, and I watch the drops fall with a kind of detached fascination. Each one is a small death, a tiny surrender to gravity. I hear movement in the other room, the soft pad of bare feet on the floorboards, and I know it is Zoe. I know the rhythm of her steps, the weight of her presence, the way the air changes when she enters a room. She has become as familiar to me as my own heartbeat, and that terrifies me more than any enemy ever could. I dry my face with a rough towel and walk out to the main room. She is standing by the windo
I Was Hired To Seduce My Boss Chapter 84: The Fragile Calm
Zoe The kettle whistles on the stove, a thin, insistent sound that cuts through the morning stillness like a blade through silk. I cross the kitchen and lift it from the burner, the heat radiating through the fabric of the towel I wrap around my hand. Steam curls toward the ceiling, dissipating into the cool air, and I pour the water over the tea leaves, watching them unfurl in the ceramic pot. Eleanor is still asleep in the room at the end of the hall. I heard her stirring in the night, the floorboards creaking beneath her restless feet, but I did not go to her. Some silences are not meant to be broken. Some wounds need time to breathe before they can begin to heal. Liam is on the porch, his silhouette dark against the pale light of dawn. I can see him through the window, his shoulders hunched forward, his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee that has long gone cold. He has not slept either. We have both been circling the edges of sleep, afraid of what we might find in the dark.
I Was Hired To Seduce My Boss Chapter 83: The Path Forward
Liam The hinges of the cottage door complain as I push it open, a thin whine that cuts through the morning stillness like a blade. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of woodsmoke and old paper, and I find Eleanor standing by the window, her silhouette sharp against the pale light filtering through the glass. She turns when she hears me, and I notice the way her fingers grip the edge of the windowsill, as if she is holding onto something that might otherwise slip away. Zoe is already at the table, a cup of tea cradled between her palms. She looks up as I enter, and I see the question in her eyes before she speaks it. "Are you ready?" she asks. I am not sure what she is asking. Ready for what? The truth? The confrontation? The next chapter of a story I never wanted to be part of? But I nod anyway because readiness is not about certainty. It is about willingness to face whatever comes. "I am," I say. Eleanor finally turns from the window, her hands falling to her sides. Her gre
I Was Hired To Seduce My Boss Chapter 82: The Crossing
Zoe The porch boards groan beneath my weight as I step outside, the cold air biting at my cheeks like an old wound reopening. Dawn is still an hour away, the sky a pale bruise of purple and gray, and I wrap my arms around myself as if I could hold the warmth of the cottage against my skin. The frost crunches under my feet, each step a small betrayal of my presence. Eleanor is still inside. I can hear her moving through the rooms, the soft scrape of a chair against the floor, the murmur of her voice as she talks to herself. She has been doing that more often lately—talking to herself, as if she is rehearsing the words she wants to say before she says them out loud. I think about the confession she made last night, the weight of the truth she finally released. Viktor killed Liam's father. She had been carrying that secret for years, buried so deep inside her that she had almost convinced herself it was not real. But it was real. It has always been real. The door creaks open behind m
I Was Hired To Seduce My Boss Chapter 81: The Strike
Liam The cottage door swings inward on rusted hinges, and the smell of damp wood and cold ash rushes out to meet us. I step across the threshold, my boots scraping against the worn floorboards, and I feel the years of neglect pressing in from every corner. Eleanor is already inside, her silhouette a dark cutout against the dim light filtering through grime-caked windows. She has been hiding here for weeks, perhaps months. The dust on the furniture tells its own story—a story of isolation, of a woman who has been waiting for something she can not name. I watch her move through the space with the careful precision of someone who has spent a lifetime treading lightly, as if the ground beneath her feet might give way at any moment. Zoe follows me inside, her grey eyes scanning the room, cataloguing every detail. I see her fingers brush against the edge of a worn table, her thumb tracing a groove in the wood as if she is reading a language written in scars. She is searching for the trut
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