CHAPTER 4; THE CEO'S PRIVATE PATIENT

Chloe’s POV

The rain had turned the night into a blur of darkness and rushing water by the time we slipped away from the party. Sheets of rain battered the roof of Richard’s car, while the wipers struggled to clear the windshield fast enough.

I sat beside him, my heart still pounding violently against my ribs.

I couldn’t stop replaying what had just happened.

I had just fucked my boss.In a dark corner of the party, while only a few rooms away, everyone else had been laughing, drinking, and pretending the night was perfectly normal.

My fingers tightened around the edge of my seat as another wave of relief washed over me.

William hadn’t seen us.

Thank God.

I knew William too well. If he had caught us, he would have twisted every detail until I became the guilty one, and he somehow became the wounded saint.

Richard’s smirk cut through the dark as he glanced over. The dashboard lights caught the edge of it, lazy and knowing, the same expression he’d worn when he’d first pushed the vibrator inside me earlier, when he’d watched my face as I came apart under his control.

“Would you like to continue from where we stopped?”

The question landed low in my stomach, a slow, deliberate strike. I couldn’t deny the truth of it. My insides still ached—a deep, hollow throb left by the relentless buzz of the vibrator and the thick stretch of his cock. The memory alone made my thighs press together under the damp fabric of my dress. I wanted more. Wanted him to pull over, shove the seat back, and finish what he’d started with that same ruthless patience. But I forced the truth down and lied.

“No. Please just drop me off at home.”

My voice came out thinner than I intended, trying for indifference and landing somewhere closer to breathless.

He didn’t argue. Didn’t even look surprised. He simply reached across the console, slid his hand beneath the hem of my dress, and rested it high on my thigh. His palm was warm, possessive, the heat of it sinking straight through the thin barrier of my skin.

I tensed. My legs pressed together on instinct, trapping his hand between my thighs before it could climb any higher.

“Richard” The protest came out thinner than I meant it to, half warning, half something weaker.

He didn’t pull away. He just waited, the pad of his thumb stroking slow circles against the soft skin just above my knee, patient and certain. The rain hammered the roof. The wipers dragged. My pulse jumped hard enough that I was sure he could feel it under his palm.

I should have shoved his hand off. Should have told him again, firmly this time, that I wanted nothing more than to be dropped at my door. Instead my thighs loosened by a fraction—barely enough to be called permission—and he took it. He massaged higher, deliberately, working past the resistance until his fingers brushed the damp fabric of my panties. Then he slipped beneath it, finding my folds already slick and swollen.

Two fingers pressed in—not thrusting, just lingering. Stroking. Circling. Keeping the ache alive the entire drive home. Every time the car took a turn, the motion pressed him deeper; every time the tires hissed through another puddle, his thumb dragged slow across the swollen spot that made my breath hitch. The rain on the roof became a second heartbeat. The low hum of the engine vibrated up through the seat into my spine. I could smell him—cologne and rain and the faint, lingering scent of sex still clinging to both of us. My hips began to rock against his hand without permission. I hated how easily my body betrayed me. Hated how much I still wanted him to keep going.

By the time he parked outside my building, my breathing was shallow, and the windows had fogged at the edges. He withdrew slowly, eyes locked on mine as he brought those two glistening fingers to his mouth and licked them clean—unhurried, thorough, like he was savouring the last of something he’d already claimed The sight punched the air from my lungs. I sat frozen, pulse hammering in my throat, the taste of my own want hanging between us in the humid air of the car.

He leaned in, holding out his coat with that familiar teasing smile that always made it hard to stay annoyed with him. “Come on,” he said, voice low and playful. “One kiss and the door unlocks. Fair trade, don’t you think?”

I rolled my eyes, but the cold air seeping through the cracked window made the decision for me. I leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth—meant to be nothing, a transaction—and felt the soft click of the locks releasing. He laughed under his breath as I slipped out of the passenger seat, pulling the heavy coat tighter around my shoulders. The fabric still held his heat. His scent.

The night air bit at my cheeks while I climbed the front steps. Behind me, his engine hummed to life. I paused at the door, watching the red glow of his taillights disappear down the quiet street before I finally went inside.

Upstairs, the apartment felt too still. William still wasn’t home. I dropped my bag by the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, the silence pressing in like a held breath. Then, without warning, the memory from the party slammed into me—everything I’d seen, everything I’d tried to ignore. My stomach twisted.

My phone rang, shattering the quiet. Mum’s name lit up the screen.

I answered, already braced.

“We need you to get a wedding dress for your sister,” she said, as if it were the most natural request in the world.

I stared at the wall. “What? Why do I have to pay for her wedding dress with my money?”

“You’re her sister,” Mum replied, the familiar edge of expectation in her voice.

Something sharp rose in my chest. “She should ask William to buy it. After all, they’ve been sneaking around behind my back, haven’t they?”

The silence on the other end confirmed what I had suspected all along.

My mother knew about Rachel’s affair with William. She had deliberately kept it from me.

My chest tightened with anger, so sudden it almost hurt. How could she stand by and watch me remain married to a man who was betraying me? How could she look at me every day and say nothing?

I knew I had to divorce William,but I couldn’t do it yet.

Not without evidence.