5

ISABELLA

I sat on the cold, hard floor, naked and sprawled out in a pool of sweat and wetness. My chest rose and fell rapidly, my body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. My heart was pounding, each beat echoing through the vast, luxurious office that was filled with the lingering scent of sex. I shut my eyes and heaved a deep sigh.

I had just had sex with my boss. In his office.

Naked. Bare and vulnerable in every sense of the word.

A flush of embarrassment warmed my cheeks as I looked around the office. Polished mahogany bookshelves lined the walls, gleaming in the dim light. His desk sat imposingly in the center. This was my first time entering here as I wasn't even assigned to even clean this place. Papers were scattered across the polished wood, slightly crumpled from our reckless movements. The air was thick with the scent of his cologne, mingling with the unmistakable musk of what we had just done.

I noticed the mess on the floor-a sticky reminder of my loss of control, of how easily I'd fallen under his spell. My stomach twisted, and I felt ashamed, embarrassed as I realized I would have to clean it up. How civil was it to have sex on an office floor? How professional was it to be tangled up with my boss, only to be discarded like... like this?

I sighed. I forced myself to my feet, my legs shaking beneath me. Each step felt heavy, as if my body was weighed down by my shame. I shuffled into his bathroom, the cold tiles sending a chill up my spine. The bright light was unforgiving, illuminating every inch of my flushed skin. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my hair disheveled, lips swollen, eyes wide with lingering shock.

I looked like a woman who'd just been ravished. Used. Forgotten.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I cleaned myself up. I wiped away the sweat, the stickiness, the evidence of my poor judgment. I gathered my hair into a messy bun, trying to compose myself. But no matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn't wash away the hollow feeling gnawing at my chest. I couldn't erase the coldness in his voice, the way he'd turned his back on me without so much as a word.

After I had cleaned up, I stepped out of the bathroom, my heart sinking when I saw the mess still waiting for me. There was no way I could leave it like this. Swallowing my pride, I slipped out of his office to find cleaning supplies.

I was halfway down the hallway when I bumped into the woman who had given me this job. My heart jumped into my throat, and my face grew hot.

Her eyes narrowed, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "Why were you in the boss's office?"

My mind raced, scrambling for an answer. "I... I was just checking to see if it was clean enough," I stammered, forcing a nervous smile. "I wanted to make sure everything was spotless. I was on my way to get cleaning supplies."

She blinked, her gaze lingering on me for a moment before she nodded slowly. "Right. Make sure you do a good job. He hates a dirty office. Make sure there's not a speck of dust left."

"Of course," I mumbled, my cheeks burning as I hurried past her. My pulse was pounding, my skin prickling with unease. She knew. I could feel it. She must have seen the guilt written all over my face.

By the time I reached the storage room, my hands were shaking. I grabbed a bucket, a mop, and a handful of cleaning supplies, my mind replaying every compromising position I had been in just moments ago. I could still feel his hands on me, his lips, his body pressing against mine. It sent a shiver down my spine-both thrilling and shameful at the same time.

When I made my way back to his office, my stomach dropped. Logan was there, standing by his desk with his phone pressed to his ear. His expression was softer, his lips curved into a smile, his eyes gleaming with a warmth he hadn't shown me.

His voice was low and sweet, his tone flirtatious. "You know I miss you too," he murmured, his fingers trailing over his desk. "I've just been busy. But you're always on my mind."

I froze, my heart tightening painfully.

The woman on the other end of the line giggled, her voice faint but teasing. "When will I see you again?"

Logan leaned against his desk, his smile never faltering. "Soon. I promise. Just have to take care of a few things first."

I forced myself to move, setting down the cleaning supplies as quietly as possible. I kept my head down, my hands trembling as I tried to focus on my task. But his voice kept drifting to my ears, smooth and charming, so different from the coldness he'd shown me.

He cleared his throat when he was done, placing his phone on the desk. I straightened, my heart pounding as I tried to act normal.

His gaze was indifferent, his tone flat. "Here." He flung a brown envelope across the floor. It slid to a stop just inches from my feet. "Payment for your service."

My mouth went dry. I stared at the envelope, the weight of his words sinking in. Payment. Service. I felt a flare of anger, my fingers curling into fists. I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my voice steady. "You could've just asked me to pick it up."

He chuckled, a cold, dismissive sound. "Would that have made a difference?" His eyes gleamed with amusement. "You won't care once you see how much is in there."

His words were a slap to my face. My cheeks burned, humiliation searing through me. But he didn't care. He gathered his things, his movements casual and relaxed. He didn't even bother saying goodnight. He just walked out, leaving me alone.

"Fucking brute."

I stood frozen, staring at the brown envelope on the floor, my chest tight with anger. I snatched it up, my fingers trembling as I tore it open. My heart stuttered when I saw the stack of cash. Ten thousand dollars in crisp bills.

I choked back a gasp, my head spinning. Ten thousand dollars. For one night.

I stared at the stack of cash, my fingers trembling as I ran them over the crisp bills. Ten thousand dollars. I’d never seen so much money in my life, let alone held it. It was surreal. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d felt something so… solid. So secure.

A bubble of laughter escaped me, high-pitched and disbelieving and everything else I'd been feeling moments ago dissipated, leaving nothing but sheer joy behind. I could pay my rent. Hell, I could pay three months’ rent in advance and still have enough left over to eat something other than dollar-store ramen. I could finally move out of that crummy apartment where the landlord never fixed the leaks, where the doors didn’t lock properly, and where the neighbors fought so loudly that I had to drown them out with music just to sleep.

I looked at the money again, my heart fluttering with excitement. I could finally live somewhere safe. Somewhere decent. I could get new clothes, proper shoes for work, maybe even fix my phone that kept freezing. A new world was opening up before me, paved with the promise of a better life.

But then, a cold pang of shame twisted in my gut. This was payment for… sleeping with him. It made me feel cheap, like I’d sold myself. I bit my lip, the bitter taste of humiliation lingering. Did this make me a slut? Was that all I was to him, a body he could use and discard?

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. But no. I wasn’t sleeping around with different men. It was just him. One man. And he was overcompensating me. Paying me more than I could have ever dreamed of making on my own. Was that really so wrong?

My eyes flicked to the cash again, and the shame slowly melted away. I needed this. More than my pride, more than my morals, I needed this money to survive. To live. And if he wanted to throw it at me for one round of sex, then so be it.

I squared my shoulders, determination hardening within me. I cleaned his office swiftly, scrubbing away every trace of our encounter. By the time I was done, the place was spotless, and I was ready to leave.

To celebrate, I went to a small, upscale restaurant that served authentic Spanish food. Just as I stepped inside, my eyes landed on Logan, laughing at a table with a woman. My stomach dropped.