The lobby was too quiet.Too polished. Too glass. Too much silence for a media empire that supposedly thrived on noise.
I adjusted my skirt for the third time, wiped my sweaty palms against the fabric, and tried to pretend that my heart wasn't doing backflips.
Breathe.It's just a job interview.You sucked a stranger's dick in a car three nights ago. This can't be worse.
But the second the elevator dinged and those chrome doors slid open, I knew I was wrong.
Because he was standing there.
Not in the corner. Not behind a desk.Right there. In the fucking middle of the room. Like he'd been waiting.
Cassian Vale.
Tailored suit, no tie. Shirt unbuttoned just enough to break rules he probably wrote himself. One hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone he wasn't even pretending to look at. His eyes locked on mine the second I stepped in.
And they didn't move.
"Lexa."His voice cut through the air like a knife through velvet.Not surprised. Not amused. Just… inevitable.
I stopped walking."You?"
His smile was lazy. Arrogant.Like this was a game and I'd just caught on three moves too late.
"You didn't recognize the company name?"He tilted his head. "Or were you just too desperate to care?"
I flushed. Heat prickled up my neck."You own Vale Media?"
"I am Vale Media."He started walking toward me, slow and precise, like he was savoring the sound of his shoes on marble."And now you're standing in my building. On my floor. Wearing my favorite skirt."
I stepped back.
"No."I shook my head, heart pounding. "I didn't come here for… this. I didn't know—"
"You didn't ask."
He pulled a tablet from the receptionist's desk—like he did it every day—and tapped once.A video popped up.
The Mustang.The night.Me.On my knees. Head bobbing. Hands braced on his thighs. Mouth full.
The sound was muted, but the image was loud enough.
My blood turned to ice."You filmed me?"
Cassian looked at the screen. Then at me. Then back again.With the calm of someone watching stock tickers, not sex tapes.
"I film everything. Security, insurance, habit."
"You motherfucker—"
He clicked the tablet off, tossed it aside.
"You're right," he said softly. "You didn't come here for this. But you're here now. So either you can storm out, pretend this never happened, and spend the next month waiting to see if your face shows up on a porn blog—"
I flinched.
"—or you can sign the contract upstairs and keep your mouth, and your reputation, clean."
His eyes locked onto mine.
"Your choice."
The room tilted. The walls blurred.I wanted to scream. To run. To slap that smug expression off his face.
But instead, I said:
"Fuck you."
He grinned. "Already did."
Later – His Office
The papers were on the table.Printed. Pristine. My name glared up at me like a dare.
Employment Agreement. Non-Disclosure. Full Consent. Transfer of Rights.
It read more like a contract for a fucking collar.
"You really think I'm going to work for you after that?"
Cassian didn't flinch. Didn't blink.Just leaned back in his chair like a king on a throne he didn't have to earn.Legs spread. Fingers laced. Eyes fixed on mine.
"No," he said. "I think you're going to work for me because I already own you."
He slid a folder toward me, one finger pushing it like it weighed nothing.
Inside:A still frame from the video.
My lips stretched wide. Eyes glazed. Mascara smeared. My throat full of him.Captured. Frozen. Eternal.
My stomach twisted.My thighs clenched.
"I want that gone," I said. Quiet. Broken. But not begging. Not yet.
Cassian leaned forward, voice dropping like a noose around my neck.
"You'll earn the right to crawl back to me and ask for that.""And if you're good—very good—I might even let you delete it with your own shaking hands."
I couldn't breathe.Not because I was scared—But because my body was already reacting.Already soaked.
I looked up at him.At the man who had fucked me like a hole and now smiled like I was the one who begged to be used.
"Why me?" I whispered, even though I already knew.
Cassian tilted his head like I was a puzzle he'd already solved.
"Because you'll burn prettier than the rest."
He stood. Walked around the desk.Not fast. Not slow. Just close enough to let me feel the weight of him.
His hand came to my chin—tilted it up.His thumb dragged along my lower lip, catching a tremble I didn't mean to show.
Then he bent down, so close I felt the heat of his breath behind my ear.
"And because every filthy little part of you was begging for this the second you opened that mouth."
He didn't kiss me.
Didn't touch me again.
Just turned, walked out—
And left me alonewith a contractand a cuntthat didn't know whether to sign in ink or in slick.