My Cold Boss’s Secret Screen

Holy shit. My ruthless Mafia Boss is the sugar daddy who calls me "Mistress" on the dark web.After my phone accidentally dialed him, Don Cassius's private phone buzzed on the conference table.The entire boardroom was dead silent.I held my breath. My palms were slick with sweat.Ten seconds ago, I hit the video call button for a contact saved as: 6'1, Dumb Money, 8-Pack.Who was currently sitting at the head of the table. The same man who had just ripped my art restoration draft into five pieces.Never in my wildest dreams did I think the sweet man who cried for his "Mistress" online and wired me millions without blinking was the city’s most feared Mafia godfather.Ten minutes ago, he tapped my canvas and sneered, "Aria, this is your fifth draft? Did you get your head slammed in a door five times?"I almost cried right then and there.My family was drowning in millions of dollars of debt. My only way out was restoring antique paintings. And he was the boss who held my life in his han

I held my breath, watching the zipper go down inch by inch.My eyes went wide.I was twenty-four years old. I’d never seen anything like it.I thought I'd seen it all. Erotica, dark web galleries—what hadn't I seen?But when that thing actually appeared on screen, I shrieked and threw my phone onto the bed.It hit the mattress with a thud."Mistress?!"Cassius's panicked voice came through instantly."Mistress, what's wrong? Did I scare you? I'll stop..."I covered my burning face, my chest heaving.Oh my god.Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.Was that thing real? Was it even human?I took three deep breaths, but I couldn't cool my face down. In the mirror, I was as red as a boiled lobster.No. I absolutely could not let him know I was flustered."Mistress?" He sounded frantic now. "Say something. Did I do something wrong?"I grabbed the phone and immediately hung up the video.Channeling every ounce of coldness in my body, I typed.[Did you not finish puberty? The book boyfriends I rea

I quickly replied.[Don't send anyone. I'll handle it myself. If you show up, I'll block you forever.]He was quiet for a few seconds.[...Okay. Whatever Mistress says.]I didn't reply.I put my phone down, rubbed my burning eyes, and walked over to the easel.The restoration draft Cassius tore into five pieces was lying on the floor. Just like my life.I crouched down and picked up the pieces, one by one.12:01 AM.I was using tweezers to carefully place a cracked paint layer when my phone buzzed.A long string of voice notes.I frowned and clicked play."Mistress." Cassius's voice spilled out, raspy and trembling. "You really can't leave me."My hand shook. I almost dropped the tweezers."I know I'm older. I know I might not be good enough. But these past two years..."He paused, taking a deep, ragged breath."These past two years, you've been the light of my life. You're the only one who listens to me."The next voice note almost stopped my heart entirely."Mistress, I want to meet

Fifteen minutes later, the music in the club abruptly died.Every eye turned to the door.Cassius walked in wearing a black trench coat, flanked by six of his armed men.His hair was a little messy. The strand that was normally slicked back flawlessly was blown loose by the wind, sticking to his forehead.But the messy look didn't weaken his presence. It just made him look more dangerous.More lethally sexy.I stared at him through drunk, blurry eyes, like I was seeing a ghost."I’m done for," I mumbled against the table, miserable. "He brought a hit squad for me.""I’m getting dumped in the river."Elena quickly stood up to intercept him. "Boss, she’s drunk. She’s talking nonsense."But Cassius didn't even look at Elena.His gaze locked onto me, cutting through the dim club and the drunk crowd like a laser.Then he walked over.Step by step.Every footfall felt like it was stomping on my heart.He stopped in front of me and slowly crouched down to my eye level.Those usually cold gray

To stop Cassius from changing his mind, I practically sprinted to get my toolbox.Ten minutes later, I carried my supplies and followed him into his private study.This study was ridiculously lavish.Over three thousand square feet of open space, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city's river.Bookshelves stretched from the floor to the ceiling, packed with volumes on art history and business management.In the center sat a massive walnut desk, and right next to it was a professional restoration table. To think the Boss was actually the best restorer in the whole family..."Sit here." Cassius pointed to the chair by the restoration table.I put my toolbox down and was about to sit when I noticed he’d pulled up a chair too.Right next to mine.So close his knee was practically brushing my thigh.I sat down stiffly, trying hard to focus on the painting in front of me.But Cassius’s presence was too overwhelming.He sat on my right, his arm draped over the back of my chair. A