Page 14 of The Boss' Pet

Maxwell is the man who usually handles my private investigation work. He compiles complete dossiers on anybody I’m interested in, personally or professionally.

Henry doesn’t reply. He’ll do what I ask, I can be sure of that. I only have loyal men working for me. Men who know how to follow orders and keep their mouths shut. They are remunerated handsomely for their discretion.

I cannot stop thinking about Charlie, the way her eyes flashed at me when she scrambled up from the bar. She looked at me like a wild beast resentful of my effort to tame her. That’s not a normal response.

I’ve spanked and fucked a lot of naughty girls in my time, and I know how to make them sorry. Charlie wasn’t sorry. She was something else entirely.

“I’ll organize a replacement for you so you can get home,” I tell him.

What I don’t tell him is that I’ll be the replacement.

CHAPTER 4

Charlie

I wake up with a throbbing butt. Last night I was pretty sure he hadn’t left any marks on me whatsoever, but today I can feel a certain aching whenever I move and certainly whenever I lie on my back. I don’t know how he managed to spank me sore without leaving a mark, but then again, he probably knows how to do an infinite number of terrible things without leaving evidence behind.

“Fucking asshole,” I mumble to myself, still half-asleep.

“Language, young lady.”

The scream that escapes my lips is enough to shatter glass, or it would be if the glass in my apartment wasn’t the kind that’s mostly plastic.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

I sit bolt upright to discover that Marcus Waterstone is standing in my apartment, somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom, which is the same place. My butt aches as I sit there, staring at him in shock. I truly never thought I would see this man ever again, and here he is, standing in his fancy designer bespoke attire, looking at me with a twist of his lips that denotes dark amusement.

“I wanted to see where you live,” he says.

“Then you ask me. You don’t just walk into the place like you own it.”

“Funny thing,” he says. “As of about ten minutes ago, I do own it.”

That must be a hardcore billionaire flex, the ability to just go ahead and buy someone’s home out from under them. But I’m not impressed, if I’m supposed to be impressed. God only knows what effect he is intending on having.

“There’s still renter’s rights. You can’t be in here without giving me notice. Doesn’t matter how much money you have, you’re still a creep.”

Marcus stands and listens to my little tirade without flinching. Maybe I was supposed to be impressed by his statement, but I’m not. I’m… horrified? I think I am almost certainly afraid. This man can do anything, anytime. He doesn’t consider the law, because he is above it.

“What do you want?” I ask the question bluntly.

“I wanted to see you. Now, I am seeing you,” he says.

This is a game. A sick, twisted game, and I am not wearing enough clothing to play properly.

The worst part of this is that even though I’m waking up hating him, and cursing at him, and wanting him to get the hell out of my apartment, there’s still a part of me that can’t help noticing that he is so handsome, so magnetic. It would be easy to swoon for him, but I don’t want to be that predictable. And I am far too ashamed of myself to be sexy. He has me off-balance, and I can’t stand it.

“Get out of my place.”

To my surprise, he actually leaves. He gives me a little smirking smile, turns, and takes the three steps he needs to leave the apartment.

I am going to change those damn locks. Not that it will matter. He’ll probably just buy the lock factory. He’s a real piece of work, and he thinks that money means he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.

Marcus

It’s been a long time since I was thrown out of anywhere. It’s quite an interesting experience.

She has every right to be angry, of course. She thinks I invaded her home. I shocked and surprised her. I probably even frightened her. It’s unfortunate that was necessary, but I want her to know whose territory she is in.

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