CHAPTER FOUR
1412 Words
I walk back home with a cheque of 70,000 dollars and the title of a mistress.
Was it worth it?
I don’t know.
When I reach home, I call Morty.
“Hello… you can pick up your money. I’m sorry for the delay,” I whisper before hanging up.
He arrives within ten minutes and collects the cash.
“How did you get this money?” he asks suspiciously.
“That’s none of your business,” I reply firmly.
“Whatever,” he mutters happily before leaving with his money.
I just hope he never comes back again.
Tim suddenly jumps onto me, excited. He gets bored staying inside the house all day.
We play together for a while, watch cartoons, and then I get him ready for bed. After tucking him in, I go to my room and start thinking about everything that happened today.
“You’ll warm my bed every night. You will always be available for me. And during this period, you will not come in contact with any men,” Mr. Anderson had said earlier, his voice full of authority.
“I’m not in a relationship with anyone, so I won’t be sleeping with anyone except you. You can trust me on that,” I had replied quickly.
“Oh no, sweetheart, I’m not talking about that,” he said with a dark smile. “You will not talk to any man or come in contact with them as long as you are my mistress. You see… I’m a little possessive of my things.”
“I’m not a thing. I’m a human being,” I protested.
“Doesn’t matter now. Your body is my property for the entire month,” he replied carelessly.
“As I was saying, you’ll be my mistress and also work for me in this office. You’ll be my secretary. Make coffee, bring my lunch, and so on.”
“And one more thing,” he added coldly. “I hate disobedience and disrespect. Make sure I never see either when you stand in front of me… or I’ll make you hate your existence.”
Who did he think he was—God?
But I simply nodded to all his demands. It felt more like slavery than anything else.
“What about my free time?” I had asked quietly.
“You probably won’t have any. You’ll stay with me in the office during the day, and at night you’ll come with me.”
“I… I have a younger brother to take care of. I can’t be with you twenty-four hours a day, especially at night,” I explained.
“You do realize you’re not the one making demands,” he said. “But I’ll compensate for that. I’ll come to your house whenever I feel like it.”
As he said that, his lips brushed against my neck.
I tried to move away, but his hand held my back firmly in place.
“You smell surprisingly good for a peasant,” he murmured.
That insult stabbed straight into my heart.
“I… I should go now,” I had said quietly, trying to leave.
But he grabbed my hand.
“Who’s going to sign the contract then?” he chuckled.
In my frustration, I had completely forgotten about the contract.
I quickly signed the papers and prepared to leave again, but he stopped me once more.
“Wait.”
I turned back to see him writing something on a cheque.
“Here. Seventy thousand dollars for one month. If you run away before the contract ends, I’ll sue you,” he said, handing me the cheque.
“But… we never talked about money,” I said in confusion.
“It’s in the contract. Even a gold digger deserves her reward after all that effort, right?” he said mockingly.
I shoved the cheque into my bag and left the office as quickly as possible.
On my way home, I noticed how everyone around me wore expensive clothes. Designer suits, luxury watches, elegant shoes.
Nothing like the cheap thrift-store clothes I wore.
Why would someone like Anderson even be interested in someone like me?
I’m not even pretty like those models he usually dates.
The next morning, the alarm clock wakes me up at eight.
I brush my teeth lazily and prepare breakfast. After eating, I check my phone and see a message from The Devil (Anderson).
The message was sent late at night, long after I had fallen asleep.
My eyes widen when I read it.
Be there at 5 a.m. sharp.
Oh no.
I’m late.
I quickly kiss Tim goodbye.
“Be a good boy today and try not to make too much mess,” I tell him. “Last time it took me three hours to clean everything.”
“I’ll be a good boy!” he says excitedly.
“Okay then, I’ll bring you chocolate as a reward.”
“Yayy!” he cheers, throwing his hands into the air.
I lock the door and rush out.
After walking for fifteen minutes, I finally catch a bus. Half an hour later, I reach the office building.
I hurry inside. The receptionist recognizes me but doesn’t say anything.
All the elevators are busy.
Except one.
A wooden elevator labeled Private.
I look up at the sign.
It must belong to the boss… Mr. Anderson.
But technically, I work for him now, right?
So it shouldn’t be a problem.
I step inside and press the button for the 100th floor.
When I reach his office, I check the time.
10 a.m.
He doesn’t even look at me at first, completely focused on his computer.
I glance at his appearance.
Jimmy Choo shoes. A perfectly tailored jet-black suit. Gold lining on his tie.
Everything about him screams wealth.
Even his perfume smells expensive—nothing like the cheap ones I buy from the dollar store.
“Will you stand there all day?” he mutters, finally looking up.
“Come closer.”
I walk toward him until I’m standing in front of his desk.
“You do realize you’re extremely late,” he says coldly. “I said five in the morning. It’s ten now. Instead of working, you’re standing there lost in your own world. I hate tardiness, Chloe.”
His voice echoes through the entire office.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson. I read your message this morning, so I”
“It’s Mr. Black to you,” he interrupts sharply. “And I don’t want excuses.”
His eyes narrow.
“And tell me something, Chloe… who allowed you to use the private elevator? Or did you suddenly become the boss of this company?”
“I was late and the other elevators were busy,” I explain nervously. “So I used that one. I’m sorry, sir.”
“That’s not how things work here,” he snaps. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for breakfast?”
He points toward the door.
“Go make me coffee. The instructions are in the kitchen. Find it yourself, and don’t show your pathetic face until my coffee is ready.”
I rush out quickly, my heart pounding.
In the kitchen, I stare at the instructions.
There’s just one problem.
I hate coffee… and I’ve never made one before.
Still, I try my best and carry the mug back to him.
My hands tremble as I give it to him.
He takes one sip.
Then suddenly throws the cup against the wall.
I flinch.
“What the hell is this?” he shouts. “You’re completely useless. Don’t you know how to make coffee?”
I lower my head silently.
“Do one thing right,” he snaps. “Go get breakfast from Lara. Hurry.”
“What should I order?” I ask nervously.
“Just say my name. They’ll know what to give you,” he replies impatiently.
I nod and turn to leave.
“And one more thing,” he adds.
I stop.
“You are not allowed to use any elevators in this building. Every mistake you make will be punished.”
He looks at me coldly.
“Use the stairs.”
My heart sinks.
There are 100 floors.
But I simply nod.
What other choice do I have?
I chose this path.
I was foolish enough to blackmail one of the most powerful men in America.
Now I have to pay the price.
- Writer
