Chapter 2

We were supposed to be a one-night arrangement. Eric would get his promotion. My family's debt would be gone. It should've ended there.

So why was I suddenly his assistant?

Though this wasn't the right time to bring it up, I still forced the words out, my cheeks burning red.

"Eric never mentioned anything about me being Mr. Chase's assistant. Mr. Chase must be mistaken."

James's gaze held a trace of contempt. "The one who's mistaken isn't Mr. Chase. It's you."

I looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean by that?"

He replied coolly, "Last night was just an audition. You only made it to the consideration stage because Mr. Chase was satisfied."

An audition?

Right then, I felt like a chip on a poker table—something cheap, tossed around without a second thought.

Still, I stood my ground. After what had happened, there was no longer anything left to hide.

I braced myself and said, "James, last night was a transaction. I fulfilled my end. Now, Mr. Chase should uphold the agreement Eric negotiated. I'm not doing the assistant job. If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving."

With my head held high, I walked into the elevator. Only when the doors closed did my manufactured pride crumble entirely.

My shoulders slumped as I fought off the discomfort in my body. Just as I stepped into a cab, my phone rang. It was Eric.

"Baby, where are you?"

His voice instantly broke me.

"Eric…" I burst into sobs.

The driver glanced at me anxiously through the rearview mirror, clearly startled.

Worried about being misunderstood, I quickly stifled my crying and covered the phone. "I'm in a taxi. Heading home."

Upon hearing that, Eric grew agitated. "What are you doing going home? You need to accompany Mr. Chase on his business trip. The flight leaves in an hour. Don't mess this up!"

I was speechless.

Sensing something off, Eric quickly changed his tone. "Baby, did it… go through last night?"

My face flushed. I lowered my voice. "No… he used protection the whole time."

He sighed with disappointment. "Sigh… couldn't you just—"

"Eric," I interrupted, my voice tinged with exhaustion and pain. "Are you blaming me?"

"No, no, baby, of course not. Don't overthink it."

He started coaxing me, voice soft and wheedling. "Look, nothing happened last night anyway. So maybe just stay with him a few more days. As his assistant, I mean. No one has to know what's going on between you two—just us."

"No one will know?" I scoffed. "Stop lying to yourself. We both work for the company. We know exactly what being Mr. Chase's 'assistant' means. Don't treat everyone like fools."

My head throbbed with pain, and my ears buzzed with anger. It took me a moment to recover. Beads of sweat were gathering at my hairline.

Eric pleaded, even choking back tears. "Baby, I'm sorry. I really didn't expect Mr. Chase to like you this much. He said he absolutely wants you to stay with him for a few more days. Just hold on a bit longer. Think about our situation—how dire things are. You're the only one who can help us through this.

"Once I become a regional manager, I'll be making big money. I can pay off your brother's gambling debt. Your parents can reunite with him. And—baby, if you can get pregnant during this time, that would be even better."

He wasn't wrong. With things this desperate, I had no other choice.

I leaned forward and said to the driver, "To the airport, please."

At the airport, I saw Dominic again.

Unlike the cold dominance of last night, today he wore a light gray overcoat, his demeanor refined and elegant.

Just one glance at him made my body react, and the shame that followed nearly drowned me.

I remembered someone once saying something scandalous, "The shortest path to a woman's heart is through her vagina."

I didn't want to admit it, but when I saw Dominic again, neither my body nor my heart rejected him, even if our beginning was disgraceful.

When I hesitated to approach, he simply lifted a hand, and like a well-kept pet, I walked over without resistance.

He was on a call, and I obediently followed a few steps behind.

I had to admit—he was physically flawless. His face, his body, everything aligned with my weakness for intellectual allure.

But I didn't love him. He wouldn't love me. Our connection was simple—physical, transactional, emotionless.

We used each other. It was a fair trade.

I followed him through the VIP lane to board the flight.

I'd only flown twice before on a budget honeymoon trip with Eric, arranged by a cheap travel agency. Back then, the seats were cramped, the service non-existent, and the airline didn't even serve food.

This was my first time in first class. When we landed, we were met by a private airport pickup.

What I never saw coming was Celeste Hart herself greeting us—head of Stratus Aerospace's Summerfield Regional Office.

I knew her by reputation: the legendary "Beauty of Stratus," the talk of the aerospace world.

Dressed in an ivory Chanel suit that hugged her curves, with just a hint of cleavage showing, she was every bit the vision I'd heard about - flowing hair, striking features, and this smoky, irresistible allure that seemed to short-circuit most men's better judgment.

At a previous company gala, she'd mesmerized half the senior executives with a belly dance. Rumor had it she left with Dominic that night.

No one knew what really happened, but everyone knew what it meant.

She greeted me with a sweet smile, but I could feel the hostility simmering beneath it.

Her eyes flicked to my chest before she deliberately walked arm-in-arm with Dominic.

She escorted us to the hotel and handed us separate room keys, on different floors.

It was deliberate. But Dominic didn't object, so I said nothing and took the key to the other elevator.

As they left, Celeste turned back before the doors closed, lifting her chin with a smug, triumphant smile. It was a clear provocation.

Her hostility seemed petty to me.

I waited in my room the entire afternoon. Just before dinner, I received a message from Dominic.

Dominic: [Come to the lobby.]

I waited there for over twenty minutes before they finally appeared.

Celeste clung to his arm, her posture that of a hostess.

"Ms. Monroe, sorry to keep you waiting," she said with a smile.

I returned a polite one. "I just got here."

Truth be told, I've always been a bit passive, never one to fight for attention. Celeste was my complete opposite.

She took us to the most luxurious private club in Summerfield.

There, we ran into a business mogul. Dominic clearly wanted to engage him, and it just so happened that Celeste knew him well. The three of them chatted and laughed, then disappeared into a private room.

Before the door closed, Celeste said to me, "Wait for us in the Velvet VIP room."

About ten minutes later, she came in alone.

She sat opposite me, slowly wiping her hands with a damp napkin, and said, "So, you've slept with Dominic, haven't you?"

A man like him never lacked women, but he had never publicly admitted to being with a woman.

I knew better than to admit anything. Some flowers bloom only in darkness, and so did our relationship.

I replied, "Ms. Hart, that's a big misunderstanding. Mr. Chase wouldn't be pleased to hear such talk."

The way her lips curled and her eyes glinted with disdain told me my denial satisfied her.

"At least you're smart," she said haughtily. "Let me give you some advice. Don't think sleeping with Dominic means anything. He'll never take you seriously."

She looked down on me, not just for what I'd done, but for not owning it.

"He's just blowing off steam," she continued. "Men have needs. Better to find someone clean than go to a brothel. When he gets bored, he'll toss you a check and move on to the next."

This wasn't advice, it was veiled abuse. She was calling me a whore.

I'd had enough. My patience snapped.

"Ms. Hart," I said coldly, "you might want to choose your next sentence carefully. I don't have the patience for a barking dog."

Her eyes narrowed in shock. She hadn't expected me to hit back so bluntly. She opened her mouth to lash out, but the door opened.

Instantly, she changed her face, greeting Dominic with a soft smile. "Mr. Chase, how did the talk go?"

Dominic glanced at me first, noting the tension in my face. He probably guessed what had happened.

He took off his blazer and handed it to me, not her.

Celeste smiled awkwardly.

She then took my seat beside Dominic. I didn't call her out, just grabbed my phone and sat across from him.

My tongue still throbbed from where he'd bitten it last night, and the spicy dishes on the table stung the wound. I could barely eat anything aside from plain rice and a cold appetizer.

Because I ate so little, Celeste threw a few passive-aggressive comments my way—complimenting my "discipline," and saying with a figure like mine, I must attract stares everywhere I go.

After dinner, Celeste accompanied us back to the hotel. As we got out of the car, she turned to Dominic.

"I'd like to go over some updates on the branch office," she said sweetly.

He didn't refuse, and followed her into the elevator.

I understood: he didn't need me tonight.

So I decided to return to my room, shower, and get ready for bed.

Just as I took off my jacket, my phone buzzed.

It was Eric again. He'd been messaging me all day, pestering for updates.

I found it laughable. What did he want to know? If Dominic had held me tight? If he was good in bed?

A new message popped up.

Eric: [Baby, please answer. I miss you.]

Despite everything, a part of me softened. He had once been good to me.

I answered the call. "Hello?"

"Baby, you finally picked up!" he said.

"What is it?"

"Are you on a trip with Mr. Chase?"

"Yes."

"Did he mention making me regional manager?"

My heart sank.

So that's why he'd been calling. Not out of worry for me, but for his damn promotion.

"No. He didn't," I said flatly. "Anything else?"

Eric's voice turned sharp and impatient. "What the hell? He didn't bring it up, and you didn't either? You slept with him for nothing?!"

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

I opened it and froze.

It was Dominic.

I'd assumed he'd be with Celeste by now.

Without a word, he stepped inside, began unbuttoning his shirt, and reached under mine, pressing me against the wall as he kissed me with hungry abandon.

My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor.

The call with Eric was still connected.

I knew he could hear everything.

And maybe out of spite—toward my scumbag husband who had sold me out—I let the sounds of my pleasure rise, sharp and deliberate.

Let him listen. Let him suffer.