บททั้งหมดของ The Night Before I Knew Him: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

~Hermes~The door clicks open, and a “Fuck” escapes my lips."Fuck this," I mutter again, yanking off my tie like it offended me.What kind of hospital defines progress as a stroke patient slightly lifting his damn hand?For God’s sake — I dropped everything, raced down there like a fool when they called saying “he’s finally improving.”Only to see that?That was progress?Progress is when he opens his fucking mouth and tells me who framed him.Not a twitch or a fucking inch of movement can help right now.Fuck.Emotions — a whole fucking maelstrom of them — are swirling in my head, chewing through my brain like acid.Shit. I can’t even untangle them without a goddamn drink.I storm to my private bar, pour myself a full glass of vodka, and down it in one gulp. It burns, but I get no relief."What the fuck is wrong with me?"Am I angry at my father’s lack of progress? Or the fact that I spent the whole day watching some employee make eyes at my secretary?Secretary. My secretary. That

~Hermes ~The door opens, and I lose every coherent thought in my head.What the fuck is she wearing?It sticks to her like it was sewn on. The neckline's loose, draped low — too low — and the straps are so thin they look like they’d snap if someone breathed on her too hard. The hem barely makes it to mid-thigh. I can see the outline of her legs, her hips, the soft pull of fabric over her waist.I stare, and I can’t stop.Because it's that exact dress.I didn’t really see it that night — not properly. I was only interested in getting her legs apart.But now? Now I see every inch of it.She’s not wearing her jacket. Not holding anything. Just that dress, like she stepped out of someone else’s night and into my office.And the smell, not her usual scent. It's tequila, lime, and club air. I hate it.Not because it’s strong — because it means she was somewhere, with someone, with this same dress, doing God knows what.My hands curl into fists at my sides.This was a mistake. Calling her w

~Hermes~Now it’s game over.I scream it internally as my whole body stiffens.Then the light clicks on.Fuck.She feels it — I know she does. My cock, hard and straining, pressing against her through the coat she’s wearing. My coat. Thank God for it, or this would’ve gone nuclear.One more second and I’d have lost it. I’d have flipped her onto the desk and buried myself inside her like some beast. She’s already in position anyway."I'm sorry, sir!" she blurts out, voice high with panic.I pull back, confused, brows furrowing.Why the hell is she apologizing?I’m the one who should be sorry. I walked right into this. Right into her. It’s me who looks like the predator now.She’ll think I’m a fucking pervert."I—I need to use the restroom. I’ll be quick!" she stammers, already scrambling off me."Wait—" I hear myself call after her, my instinct overriding logic."Use mine instead." My voice is too low, and quiet. I don’t want her in there — not really. Her scent, her presence — once i

JuneIt’s happening again.Much to my delight, of course.This time, it’s vivid… so vivid. The place is unfamiliar but familiar. It's dreamlike and drenched in warmth.It's a bathroom, but not just any bathroom.It’s exquisite and classy. The kind you see in five-star hotel ads with gold fixtures and walls that gleam.And I’m under the shower. Naked as hot water slides down my skin like silk.But I don’t see him.Why?Then — I hear the door creak open slowly.He walks in.Good Lord.He’s naked, too.Is that… is that how I imagine his full physique under broad, unforgiving light?Because damn.He doesn’t speak — not yet — but his eyes do. Dark and stormy, like always. He shuts the door behind him with intent.Water keeps pouring over me, steam curling around my body like silk, but I don’t cover myself.I can’t.Because he’s watching me like he’s starved. And when he moves closer, every step feels like thunder in the silence.God. His body.Is that what I’ve been hiding in my memory? Sh

JuneI rush to the elevator like I’m running for my life.The elevator is slow. So damn slow.Can you move any slower? Seriously?By the time I reach my floor, I’m panting, and to my dismay — his office is empty.Shit.I scramble to my desk, fingers flying, flipping through papers like a madwoman.Nothing."Shit," I breathe, sinking into my chair.He took it. He actually took the file.Mr. Grande is about to address the Business Support Team with a presentation full of typography errors.I’m done for. My career is already over before I even get a chance to file a complain to Mr. Paul.Maybe I should seriously reconsider my earlier conviction — about surviving this internship.By the time I reach the conference hall, the door is half-shut and a voice is already speaking inside.It's too late.My heels tap too loud against the marble as I slip in, hoping to disappear into a seat.But he sees me. His eyes snap to me like a triggered weapon. He doesn’t say a word — not yet — but the war