Sin For Me, Sir.

Chapter 1The First Glance Hurts the MostLeila Monroe’s POVIf someone had told me that my summer internship would begin with chaos, I would have doubted and possibly wouldn’t have worn heels that blisters the feet.“Excuse me,” I muttered as I managed to pass between a pair of assistants gathered at the elevator side, clutching my tote like it was my armor. The building was made of glass, steel, and silence towered above me like it belonged in another different world that I didn’t belong to.Twenty-two floors up was the Whitlock Group, carved out in quiet power. Minimalist, cruelly pristine, expensive enough to make someone like myself feel disposable. My resume might’ve been plucked out from a sea of overachievers, but walking into that marble lobby, I knew one thing that everyone was replaceable including myself Everyone except him.Sebastian Whitlock.His name wasn’t just engraved on the walls of the building. It was evident into the way the doors closed too quickly and silently

Chapter 3Some Silences Know Too MuchLeila Monroe’s POVThere were days when I totally forgot to breathe around him.Not because he did anything.But because he didn’t.Sebastian Whitlock didn’t linger in hallways nor even by elevators or “accidentally” show up in the same meeting twice. And yet his presence haunted the air like aftershave and thunder. Silent. Unyielding.Every time I caught a glimpse of him a flicker of his frame behind his glass, his voice clipped in a conference call, the shape of his back as he past walked through the office without looking once in my direction it all felt like I was unraveling by degrees.And still, he never for once touched me.Not even accidentally.Not even to hand me a pen.I immediately started craving the absence and it made me insane.I wanted it to snap.But he never let it.Three days passed.No emails.No elevator rides.No private messages with locked subjects.Just….me.The space between he and I , which somehow felt thicker than the

chapter 5He Didn’t Just Want Her:He Wanted Control.Leila Monroe’s POVI was five minutes late the next morning.Just five.But Anderson was already at my desk.His smile didn’t reach his eyes.“You’re slipping, Leila.”I blinked. “The train….”He held up a hand. “Excuses are unbecoming.”The office was quiet, the hum of productivity masking the undertone of threat in his voice. His eyes dropped to my neckline, lingered, then lifted with mock professionalism.“You and I should have a chat. Privately.”Her stomach coiled.“I’m behind on Sebastian’s report…”“Funny,” he said immediately, leaning down, voice low. “You weren’t behind when you were moaning his name on that balcony.”I was shocked.He knew.“You followed me?”“I own the security feeds, Leila.”I stood too fast, my tender heart slamming. “That’s illegal”.“Sweetheart,” he said softly, “you’re in no position to lecture me about ethics. Or loyalty.”And there it was his game.Jealousy wrapped in moral superiority. Lust cloake

---Chapter 7He Didn’t Ask for PermissionLeila Monroe’s POV---The note shook in my hand…..“Watch this alone and make sure to tell Sebastian nothing.”I stared at the words until they blurred out as tears had welled up in my eyes, something in my gut twisted, dark and heavy, it got my mind twisted too.I should have waited…., I….. I should have called someone, I should have taken the damn flash drive to the police, I had multiple thoughts running in my head obviously but I didn’t.I was already unlocking my laptop, fingers moving like they didn’t belong to me and I slide in the flash drive with a faint click.One file.VID\_AMA005.I hesitated… then I pressed play.It was grainy, Black-and-white, exactly just like the photo with the same hallway and the same timestamp.But this time, the woman “Amelia” was moving fast with her heels clicking like gunfire, and her breath ragged.She was being chased.And though the camera didn’t catch the pursuer’s face, I saw the edge of a tailored

--- Chapter 9 The Wolf at Her Door Sebastian POV --- She had woken up and the city was with the strike of morning rays when did she wake up. Not the kind of soft gray of rain or the cloudy weathers, but the steel gray of a sharp blade , like a thin fast light cutting through her window blinds and slicing the room into shadows and exposure. She had moved quietly in the kitchen, obviously thinking I was sound asleep. But I wasn’t…”Wolves don’t sleep” I was watching her exact movements and precise reflection in the dark glass of her balcony doors. Leila Monroe looked like a woman trying to walk barefoot through a large minefield…every movement was very careful and every pause was deliberate. She didn’t know that half the mines were mine. --- When she finally returned, I was leaning against the frame, still in yesterday’s shirt, coffee in hand. “You make terrible coffee,” I said. Her mouth twitched, like she wanted to argue but knew I was right. “You could’ve