"Come in."
Camille sashayed in, her skirt a calculated inch shorter than professional standards, her blouse unbuttoned just enough to offer a promise without quite breaking HR rules. Sebastian recognized the game-had played it himself often enough.
"The revised projections, Mr. Blackwood." She leaned over his desk, placing the files directly in front of him. "I also took the liberty of drafting a response to the SEC inquiry."
Sebastian glanced at her, noting the carefully applied makeup, the practiced way she bit her lower lip. Camille had been his executive secretary for two years-and his occasional stress relief. She was competent enough at both roles, but lately, her ambitions were showing.
"Is there anything else you need, Sebastian?" Her voice dropped to a suggestive purr as her fingers brushed against his hand.
The fury still burned under his skin, memories of Ethan's hands on his wife sending fresh waves of rage through him. He needed release-needed to purge this violent energy before it consumed him.
"Lock the door," he ordered.
Camille's smile was triumphant as she complied, already unfastening another button on her blouse as she returned. "I've missed you these past days. Ever since your... marriage." She practically spat the word.
Sebastian stood. "Turn around. Hands on the desk."
Excitement flashed in her eyes as she obeyed, bending over the desk, presenting herself like an offering. Sebastian yanked her skirt up around her waist, unsurprised to find she'd worn nothing underneath.
"Prepared, weren't you?"
"Always for you, Sebastian," she moaned, arching her back. "I know what you need."
He entered her with brutal force. There was no tenderness, no foreplay. Camille's moans grew louder.
"Yes! God, Sebastian, no one fucks me like you do!"
The fakery grated on him. Even in this, she was calculating, performing what she thought would please him. Sebastian increased his pace, not out of passion but a ruthless determination to finish this transaction.
Camille's cries reached a crescendo as she convulsed around him, her release triggering his own. He emptied himself inside her with a grunt, already mentally returning to the Axiom projections before he'd even withdrawn.
"That was amazing," Camille purred, turning to wrap her arms around his neck. "We should celebrate your new merger with Axiom in my apartment tonight. I bought that Bordeaux you love."
Sebastian stepped back, zipping his trousers. "That won't be necessary."
"But-"
"In fact, your services as my executive secretary will no longer be required." He returned to his chair, already scrolling through emails. "I'm transferring you to compliance."
Camille froze. "Compliance? That's-that's three floors down! After everything we've-"
"After everything we've what, Camille?" Sebastian looked up. "You provided a service. I compensated you generously." He opened a drawer, withdrew a stack of cash, and placed it on the desk. "Consider this a severance package for the additional services rendered."
"You're firing me because you got married?" Her voice rose. "She can't possibly satisfy you like I can!"
"I'm reassigning you because I've found your replacement." The word was designed to cut, and it did.
Tears welled in Camille's eyes. "Sebastian, please. I've been loyal. I've been discreet. I can still be useful to you! You can fuck me again... Now, anytime." She was already rolling her skirt up once more.
"The desperation isn't attractive, Camille. Take the money and your dignity, and leave while you still have at least one of those things."
Her hands trembled as she gathered the cash, humiliation radiating from her in waves. At the door, she turned back, fury replacing the tears. "She'll never love you, you know. Not the way I could have."
Sebastian chuckled. "Love? I don't want love, Camille. I want obedience. Now get out."
❧
Olivia's new phone buzzed with a message that made her stomach drop.
Sebastian Blackwood: My office. 9 AM sharp. Wear the Armani suit Marissa selected. Marcus will get you here. You start today.
Her fingers hovered over the screen. Start what?
The response was immediate: Working for me. You didn't think I'd let you sit idle in that penthouse, did you?
Twenty minutes later, Marissa appeared with coffee and a garment bag. "Mr. Blackwood wants you polished. We don't have much time."
The Armani was severe-charcoal gray, tailored within an inch of its life, the skirt hitting just above her knees in a way that managed to be both professional and possessive. Marissa wrestled Olivia's hair into a sleek chignon, applied makeup, then fastened the diamond collar around her throat.
"Perfect," Marissa declared, though her eyes held something like pity. "The car's waiting."
❧
Blackwood Tower stabbed into the morning sky like a monument to excess. Olivia had seen it from a distance her entire life, but standing in its shadow was different. The building seemed to swallow light, all dark glass and sharp angles that screamed power.
The lobby was marble and chrome, filled with beautiful people moving with purpose. Everyone wore designer suits. Everyone looked like they belonged.
Olivia felt like an imposter wearing someone else's skin.
"Mrs. Blackwood." A security guard materialized at her elbow. "Mr. Blackwood is expecting you. Top floor."
The elevator ride felt like ascending to her own execution. Each floor that passed increased the pressure in her chest until she could barely breathe. When the doors finally opened onto the executive suite, she stepped into a world of floor-to-ceiling windows and ruthless elegance.
And Sebastian, standing at those windows like a king surveying his kingdom.
He turned, his gaze traveling the length of her body with an assessment that made her skin crawl. "You're two minutes late."
"The traffic-"
"Wasn't a question." He gestured to a woman standing beside his desk-tall, brunette, stunning in a way that made Olivia feel instantly inadequate. "This is Camille. She'll train you."
Camille's smile was all venom. "Train her? Sebastian, she has no experience. She doesn't even have a business degree."
"She has the most important qualification." Sebastian's eyes locked on Olivia's. "She's mine."
"Of course," Camille said, her voice sugar-sweet poison. "I'll show Mrs. Blackwood everything she needs to know about serving you."
