Monday slammed down like a verdict. The alarm ripped me from sleep at five. Subway crammed with bodies reeking of regret and stale coffee. The suit was wrinkled from the press. Tie strangled my throat. Hale Enterprises towered ahead. Glass and steel pierced the sky. Security badge dangled from my belt. Temporary, they claimed. It felt etched in bone.
The elevator rose. Same agonising crawl. Floor forty-eight this time. Open office. Cubicles caged the space. A guy with gelled hair jabbed a finger at my desk. Corner spot. The window framed a brick wall.
"Welcome to the grind, kid," he muttered. Nameplate read MARK. Eyes dare ead already.
Orientation crawled. HR videos droned on about harassment. Ironic bite. Sign forms. Grab a laptop. Noon buried me in spreadsheets. Numbers swam. Victor Hale's signature slashed emails. Sharp as his legend.
No glimpse of her.
Lunch solo. Sandwich from the downstairs cart. SI sat at my desk. Mind locked on that drawer. The key. Her skin.
Five o'clock bled people out. Six. Seven. Boss Carla dropped a stack. Mid-level drone. "Victor wants this by morning. Asia merger trends."
Alone. Office lights dimmed on timers. Just me. The server's hum.
Eight-thirty. Eyes stung. I stood. Stretched. Paced to the window. City lights twinkled below. Alive in ways I never touched.
Footsteps. Heels. Slow. Deliberate.
I turned.
Isabella.
Coat draped over her arm. Dress red tonight. Tight. Hips swayed like she commanded the air. She stopped at my cubicle edge. Leaned on the partition.
"Still here." Not a question.
"Deadlines," I said. Voice held steadier than my pulse.
She glanced at the screen. Numbers. Graphs. "Victor's toy." Smile sliced thin. "Come."
What?
"Conference room. Better light."
I snatched the laptop. Followed. Hallway empty. Her perfume trailed. Jasmine. Something darker beneath. The conference room loomed at the end. Glass walls. Blinds half-drawn. She flicked a switch. Lights low. City glowed outside.
"Sit." The table stretched long. Seats for twenty. She claimed the head. I took the spot beside her. Close enough for heat.
I spread the papers. She leaned in. Hair brushed my arm. She pointed. "Here. You missed the volatility index."
She explained. Voice patient. Almost kind. Fingers tapped keys. Corrected my work. Efficient. But every touch lingered. Knee pressed mine under the table. Accidental. No.
Nine-thirty. Stack thinned. "Better," she said. She stood. "Walk me to the elevator."
Heart kicked. I followed again. Private one this time. Executive. Gold trim. She pressed the button. Doors slid open.
"After you."
I stepped in. She followed. Doors closed. Silence pressed thick.
The elevator stayed still.
She hit stop. Red button. Click.
Trapped.
"What.? I started. She turned. Back against the wall. Eyes locked.
"Quiet." She stepped closer. Hand on my chest. She pushed gently till I hit the rail. "You've been thinking about me."
Deny. Lie. "Yes."
"Good." Fingers trailed down. Tie loosened. "Victor works late tonight. Board meeting. We're alone."
Breath snagged. Her mouth hovered inches away. Lipstick perfect. Red like blood.
"Kiss me."
I hesitated. Virgin. Clueless. Hunger won. I leaned in. Lips met. Soft at first. Then ravenous. Her tongue slipped in. Tasted wine. Power. Hands tangled in my hair. She pulled.
I groaned. She pressed closer. Body moulded, Breasts crushed my chest. Hips ground slowly. Heat seeped through the fabric.
Elevator cramped. Mirrors multiplied us. Me awkward. Her in command. Her hand slid lower. Cupped me through pants. Hard already. Shamefully quick.
"See?" She whispered against my neck. Teeth grazed skin. "What you do."
I tried to touch her. She caught my wrists. Pinned them above. "Not yet."
She kissed down my jaw. Throat. Buttons popped. Shirt parted. Mouth on collarbone. She sucked a mark.
Bell dinged. Someone called the elevator.
She froze. Released. Hit start. Doors opened on forty-eight. Empty hall.
She straightened my tie. Smoothed hair. "Tomorrow. Same time."
She stepped out. Heels faded.
Doors closed. The elevator descended. Alone.
Pants strained. Lips swollen. Mark burned under the shirt.
What the hell was happening?
Home later. Shower ice-cold. Couldn't finish. Not without her face.
Tuesday. Same grind. But now glances. She passed my desk once. FA fingerbrushed my shoulder. No words.
Wednesday. Stack grew. Stayed late again.
Elevator. Same trap.
This time her back faced me. The zipper on the dress eased down. Bra with lace. She turned. Let it fall to the waist.
"Touch."
Hands trembled. I cupped breasts. Heavy. Real. Nipples pebbled under palms. She moaned so softly. Head back.
I kissed her again. Deeper. Hand slid between legs. Over fabric. Wet already.
She pushed my hand away. "Not here."
But she dropped. Knees on the floor. She unzipped me. First time for anyone.
Mouth hot. Wet. Took me in. Slow. Eyes up. Watching.
I came too fast. Mortifying. She swallowed. Licked lips.
She stood. Fixed me. "Better."
The elevator moved. Doors opened. Lobby empty.
"Tomorrow," she said. Gone.
Pattern locked. Late nights. Elevator stops. Touches climbed. But never full. Tease. Control.
By Friday I was wrecked. Sleep fractured. Appetite gone. Mark said I looked possessed.
He had no clue.
That night she skipped the office.
Text. Unknown number. Penthouse. Now. Use the key.
Key?
I checked my badge holder. Slipped inside. Small gold key.
How?
Didn't care.
Elevator to the top. Key in slot. Doors opened directly to her world.
But that's next.
For now the elevator. Her taste. The promise of more.
The camera's red light blinked in the corner.
I never saw it.
The air tasted of rust and jasmine. Silence thick as wool swallowed the hum.