Paying My Debt in the CEO's Bed

The day my family went bankrupt, my fiancé was having sex with another woman in our bed.

I left, and to pay off four hundred eighty thousand dollars of debt, I took a job at a hotel, where the manager often touched my body.

I swallowed the disgust. I only wanted to keep the paycheck.

But the head waitress slipped something into my drink and waited to watch me humiliate myself in front of the VIPs.

---

The bank's final notice was still crumpled in my fist when I unlocked the apartment door.

*Payment due in thirty days. Legal action will follow.*

I had rehearsed the speech the whole cab ride. *Derek, we push the wedding back. Six months. Just until I sort this out.*

Then I heard it from the bedroom. A woman's moan. The headboard knocking against the wall.

I pushed the door open.

Derek Lorne, my fiancé of four years, was on top of Vanessa Price, who worked in his office. They were tangled in the ivory sheets I had picked out myself, on the bed I'd spent two weekends choosing for our wedding night.

Derek crushed Vanessa under his weight, thrusting his hips hard. Vanessa lay completely bare underneath him. Her pale legs were spread wide open and hooked tightly around his waist.

She saw me first, and smiled.

"Derek. Your little girlfriend is home."

He rolled off her. The room smelled like body odor and sex.

"Delaney. You're early."

"I'm *early*?" My voice cracked down the middle. "That's what you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say?" He swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Your father's company is gone. Everyone knows. I'm not marrying a woman buried under half a million in debt."

Vanessa slid her arms around his neck from behind and kissed him slowly, right on the mouth. Her eyes stayed on me the entire time.

My knees almost gave out. "Four years, Derek. What was that? What were we?"

He squeezed Vanessa's breasts right in front of me and laughed, "back then, you were a Bellamy daughter. Now you're just a stack of bills."

I laughed. It came out ugly. I didn't know why I was laughing.

"Get out," he said. "The lease transferred to my name last month."

Vanessa tilted her head. "Maybe try a pawn shop for that ring, sweetie. It'll cover a week of interest."

I twisted the diamond off my finger and threw it at the bed. It bounced off Derek's chest.

I left.

---

Three weeks later, I was carrying champagne trays on the night shift at the Grand Meridian Hotel.

"Bellamy. Over here."

Wade Rourke, the floor manager, waved me into the service corridor. He was fifty, wore too much cologne, and had a habit of standing exactly one inch too close.

"Table nine says you got their order wrong." His hand landed on my wrist, his thumb rubbing slow circles on the inside. "You need to be more careful, sweetheart."

"I'll fix it." I tugged my arm free.

He leaned in, his gaze dropping to the buttons of my blouse. "You know, a girl with your problems could use a friend in management."

His palm slapped the back of my skirt.

My stomach rolled. I picked up a full ice bucket and turned so fast it tipped against his shirt.

"Oh no, Mr. Rourke! I'm so sorry. Let me get a towel."

He jumped back, swearing. I was already gone.

Four hundred eighty thousand dollars. I repeated the number in my head like a prayer. I needed this job.

---

Sabine Moreau, the head waitress, caught me at the bar station ten minutes later.

"Cute trick."

I kept polishing a glass. "It was an accident."

"Sure it was." She leaned on the counter, her red nails tapping. "Wade likes new girls. They usually don't last long."

"I'm not interested in Wade."

"Funny." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "That's what the last one said too."

She had been sleeping with Wade for six years. The whole staff knew it. No one said it out loud.

"Asteron Capital is celebrating tonight," she said. "Big money upstairs. Try not to embarrass us."

---

The Asteron party was chaos. Bankers in tailored suits, laughter too loud, glasses emptied as fast as I could fill them. I didn't stop moving for two hours.

When I finally grabbed my water cup from behind the bar, I drank half of it in one gulp.

Twenty minutes later, the room started to tilt.

Heat crawled up my neck. My skin felt too tight. The chandelier lights blurred into gold smears.

"You okay?" one of the busboys asked.

"Fine." I pressed the back of my hand to my cheek. It was burning. "Just tired."

Across the room, Sabine was watching me. She raised her glass in a tiny toast.

My chest went cold.

"Bellamy!" Wade's voice cut through the noise. "Presidential suite wants a clean shirt and a suit delivered. Now."

"Can someone else—"

"Do you want your paycheck or not?"

I took the garment bag.

---

In the elevator, I leaned my forehead against the mirrored wall. My breathing came too fast. My thighs pressed together on their own, and I hated myself for it.

*Thirty-two floors. Knock. Hand it over. Leave.*

The doors slid open. I walked down the hallway, one hand trailing the wall to stay upright.

I knocked.

The door swung open.

A tall man stood there with his shirt half-unbuttoned, a loosened black tie hanging around his neck. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Gray eyes I had seen once before, behind cheap glasses, across a campus library table.

My mouth went dry.

"Elliot?"

Elliot Carver. In college, he wore the same frayed sweater every winter and ate free crackers from the student center. People used to joke he lived in the library because he couldn't afford heat.

Now he was the one who owned Asteron Capital.

His eyes moved from my face to my uniform to the name tag on my chest. Something shifted behind them. Not pity. Something harder.

"Delaney," he said quietly. "What are you doing here?"

I opened my mouth to answer.

Nothing came out.

The heat surged through me all at once, swallowing every thought. All I could see was his throat. His mouth. The tie.

The garment bag slipped from my fingers and hit the floor.

I grabbed his tie, yanked him down, and kissed him.

He went completely still.

Then I felt his hand close around my waist.