All Chapters of SWEET SPOT: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

EvelynMark came home that evening like a storm.I heard the front door slam so hard the windows rattled. Heavy footsteps stormed through the hallway. I was standing in the living room, the divorce papers still in my hand, when he appeared.His face was dark with rage.“You embarrassed me,” he snarled. “You walked into my office like you owned the place and made a scene in front of my staff.”I forced myself to stand tall. “You were fucking your secretary on the desk. Don’t you dare put this on me.”He moved faster than I expected. His hand cracked across my face, the same side he had hit before. Pain exploded across my cheek and I stumbled sideways, catching myself on the edge of the couch. The taste of blood filled my mouth.“You should have kept your mouth shut,” Mark growled, advancing on me.I tried to back away, but he grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise and raised his hand again.The front door suddenly burst open.Julian strode in, his expression deadly calm. In one smooth mo

EvelynDays later, the morning of the hearing arrived gray and quiet.I sat in the passenger seat of Vanessa Cole’s car as she drove us to the courthouse. The divorce attorney had been thorough — she had collected medical notes about the bruises, photographs I had taken in secret, and a clear timeline of Mark’s absences and behavior. Julian had helped me gather everything without ever once making me feel small for needing the help.“Remember,” Vanessa said as we walked up the courthouse steps, “stay calm. Answer only what is asked. The evidence is strong.”I nodded, my hands tightly wrapped around the strap of my bag.Inside the courtroom, Mark already sat at the opposite table with his own lawyer. He didn’t look at me when I entered. His jaw was set in that familiar, stubborn line. The judge entered a short while later, and the proceedings began.Vanessa presented the evidence of abuse first — the dated photographs of the marks on my face and arm, the record of the night Julian had i

HelenThe last of the associates finally packed up their bags and left.I stayed behind, pretending to finish notes at my desk long after the others had gone. The floor slowly emptied. Conversations faded. Zippers closed. Elevator doors chimed in the distance. I kept my head down, scribbling meaningless lines on a legal pad until the main lights dimmed and the office sank into that heavy, after-hours quiet. Only then did I stand, gather my things, and walk toward the women’s restroom with deliberate calm.Inside the last stall, I locked the door and sat on the closed lid, phone in hand. My heart was already beating too fast. The screen glowed against my face as I watched the minutes crawl by. 8:42. 8:51. 9:03. Every small sound outside the stall — a distant cleaning cart, the hum of the air conditioning — made my pulse spike.I needed that file.It was the key piece of evidence for the trial next month — the one that could make or break my chance of being taken seriously at this firm.

HelenMy fingers moved slowly between my legs again, circling my clit under Marc’s cold gaze. The humiliation burned hotter than the flush on my cheeks, but the ache between my thighs was stronger, a deep, insistent pulse that refused to be ignored. I kept my eyes lowered, too ashamed to meet his stare while I touched myself in front of him like this—exposed, wet, and obedient. The leather of the chair stuck to the backs of my thighs where my skirt had ridden up. Every soft, slick sound my fingers made against my soaked folds seemed deafening in the quiet office.Then I heard the soft sound of a belt being undone.My head lifted before I could stop myself.Marc had opened his pants. He reached in and pulled out his cock—already hard, thick, and heavy in his hand. My breath caught sharply. It was bigger than it had looked on the screen earlier. Longer. Thicker. The head was flushed a deep, angry pink and already glistening at the tip as he wrapped his long fingers around the shaft and

HelenI stared at the phone, the words hanging between us.My mouth went dry.“I was the one who worked hard to get you approved,” he said, voice low and calm. “I’m certain you already got the email.”I blinked, still processing. No wonder it had come through on a random Saturday after weeks of waiting and polite requests.“I… thank you?” I said, still a little stunned.“Don’t thank me yet,” he replied, a dark edge sliding into his tone. “This is still a payment. You still owe me for the night you watched my videos without closing the folder.”My cheeks burned. I knew exactly what he meant—the night I had touched myself to the sight of him fucking someone else on that screen, the night he had caught me and made me finish while he watched.“Anyway,” he continued, “I need you to come to my office at eleven. Don’t be late.”The line went dead before I could answer.I stood frozen for a second, phone still pressed to my ear, the apartment suddenly too quiet. Marc wanted me in his office o