เข้าสู่ระบบ57 CHRISTIAN Ace walks back into the office, out of breath. "Security said she left. She was running when she was leaving the lobby." "I know," I say, staring at the screen. "I'm looking at her right now." "Maybe she left again to go see her friends or whatever," Ace offers, stepping up behind my chair. "No," I say instantly, pointing a finger at the screen. "Look at her feet. Ivy wouldn't leave this building barefooted unless she was wearing another pair of shoes, and she didn't have any with her. She left her heels right there by my desk." Ace frowns at the monitor. "She's running fast, boss. It looks like she wants to escape you." "She’s not running from me," I say, my voice dropping a fraction as I watch the terror on her face in the video feed. "Look at her eyes. Look at how she keeps turning her head. She’s running from… something else." I pull out my phone, dial her number, and put it on speaker. The subscriber you are trying to reach is currently unavailable— I snap
56 CHRISTAIN The boardroom is silent except for the voice of my head of finance. This meeting had been going longer than expected. More than an hour had passed. The man talking is standing at the head of the table, pointing at a projection screen, blabbering about third-quarter projections and that stuff that my mind isn't really registering. Not right now. I know I will check the whole thing later for better understanding. But now, the sweet energy from that office is still lingering on me. I am not listening to a single word he says. Suddenly, my phone—which rests flat on the polished wood next to my hand—lights up with a silent buzz. I reach for it. It's a single text from Ace: Ivy’s not here. My fingers freeze over the table. A cold spike hits the middle of my chest, but my face stays deadpan. I pick up the phone and type back with one thumb. Check the floor. Two seconds pass. The dots dance on the screen. Ace: I checked everywhere. She’s not here. Seems like she left
IVY I keep walking even though my bare feet are already raw and bleeding against the rough concrete sidewalk. My short black dress sticks to my sweaty skin. People glance at me as I pass—they see my missing shoes, the wet tracks of tears on my face, the way I keep looking back over my shoulder like a hunted animal—and then they look away just as quickly.The worst part is that I'm using Google Maps to navigate this route. I don't even know where I am.I spot an ATM.I need cash.My hands shake so badly it takes me three tries to feed my card into the ATM on the corner. I type my PIN wrong twice before I finally get the numbers right. The machine hums, coughs, and spits out a small stack of cash. I grab the bills, shove them straight down into the side of my bra where they are hidden, and keep moving.Suddenly, a taxi slows down right beside the curb.The driver rolls down his window and leans his head out. He looks like an ordinary, middle-aged man with a neutral face, but his eyes l
IVY I shove the office door open and run out into the hallway. I am barefoot. My dress is wrinkled. My heart slams against my ribs like a trapped bird. The elevator at the end of the hall takes too long to arrive.So I don't use it. I grab the stairwell door and throw myself down the concrete steps, nearly stumbling, my hand sliding hard against the metal railing.Halfway down to the floor below, I hear a voice drifting up the stairwell.Christian's voice.I freeze on the landing.I press my back flat against the cold concrete wall, holding my breath so I can hear.He is standing just around the corner on the floor below, a phone pressed to his ear, speaking in a low, controlled, calm tone."Don't worry," Christian says into the phone. "I have everything under control."I squeeze my eyes shut, straining to listen."Yes... that's okay," Christian continues. "And of course she’s planning to leave after her birthday tomorrow. But that's not happening."My chest stops moving. The air van
IVYFew minutes later, he slowly pulls out of me. I feel the warm rush sliding down my leg. My knees shake so hard I can barely stand.He doesn't let me fall. He keeps his arm locked tight around my waist and helps me turn around. His fingers work at the knot on my wrists, untying the silk. He pulls the fabric away, and his fingers brush once over the red marks the tie left behind."You okay?" he asks.My voice is rough and dry. "Define okay."He lets out a real laugh. I couldn't help a breathless laugh, too.He helps me straighten up, pulls my black dress down over my hips, and catches me when I sway."Sit for a minute."He guides me over to the couch. I drop down onto the cushions, still trying to catch my breath, my chest heaving.He walks into the small bathroom attached to the office and comes back with a damp white cloth. He doesn't make a big deal out of it. He just hands it to me, turns his back, and starts fixing his clothes, pulling his tie back around his neck."This isn't
Ivy.The glass is freezing against my palms, but inside me, everything is burning.Every time he drives forward, my forehead taps against the cold windowpane. The city moves below us like a silent movie, tiny cars crawling through the streets, unaware that high above them, a man is pounding hard into his stepdaughter's pussy and she's completely undone for him. My wrists are locked tight behind my back, tied together with his silk tie. I am completely at his mercy."Louder," he commands against my ear, his voice rough and dark as he slams into me again. "Let them hear you."I bite down hard on my lower lip, trying to hold the sound back, but I can't. My body is too sensitive, too exposed.Ohh yess Christian… ohhh fuck yess oh yess ohhh ohh…Every inch of him fills me up, stretching me, dragging a wet, breathless noise right out of my throat."Ahhh… Christian— please…"He doesn't slow down. He grips my hip with one hand and pulls me back onto him with brutal perfection.Suddenly, a sha







