Page 128 of Sexting the Boss

And it hits me—this is a world I don’t understand.

Damien turns to me finally, his face half-shadowed under the outdoor lanterns.

I swallow hard, forcing the words out. “Who…whoareyou?”

Damien just stands there, staring at me like he’s debating what part of the truth to give me—if any at all.

My stomach twists.I should be scared.

Iamscared.

“You’re not going to answer me?” I ask, voice brittle. “You’re just going to stand there like that?”

He exhales slowly, like he’s been holding his breath this whole time. “Get inside, Sasha.”

“No.” My arms fold across my chest, my voice cracking. “Not until you tell me what the hell this is. Whoarethose men? Why—why does this place feel like it’s built for a Bond villain?”

His jaw clenches, eyes flashing, but still no answer.

I laugh—sharp, humorless. “Jesus. I was right, wasn’t I? You’re not just my boss.” I motion wildly at the men. “This—thisisn’t normal.”

“You’re not safe,” he finally says, low and grim. “That’s all you need to know right now.”

I bark out a bitter laugh. “Oh, great. Good talk. Super reassuring.” I run a shaky hand through my hair. “Damien, they grabbed me…and theyknewyour name. They said they were sendingyoua message. And now you’re dragging me to this…goddamn fortress with bodyguards and bulletproof windows—what am I supposed to think?”

His expression finally cracks. He takes one slow step toward me. “You’re supposed to trust me.”

My throat tightens. “I barely know you.”

He nods once, like he was expecting that. “You’re right. You don’t.”

I blink at him, surprised by the honesty.

“But you will,” he adds quietly. “Because it’s too late for either of us to back out now.”

I stare at him, my heart thudding so loud I’m sure he hears it.

“I’m not the man you thought I was,” Damien says, his voice dropping lower. “But I’m the man who’s going to keep you alive.”

There’s nothing else left to say.

I shiver and finally let him lead me toward the front doors, heart in my throat. Because whatever line we were walking before? It’s gone.

The massive double doors swing open as Damien leads me inside. Soft golden light spills from chandeliers, polished dark wood floors gleaming under my scuffed shoes, the faint smell of expensive candles mixing with something homey…lavender, maybe?

It’s too perfect. Too elegant.

Damien barely spares me a glance as he shrugs off his coat and tosses it to a waiting man I didn’t even notice standing there. His staff moves silently, eyes lowered, like they’re trainednotto exist unless spoken to.

I shift awkwardly, my arms wrapping around myself. I’m still in my work clothes, covered in city grime, probably looking like I rolled out of a trash can.

Before I can say anything, a voice carries from the hallway. “Damien? Is that you?”

I stiffen. That voice…

Seconds later, she appears.

His mother.

---