The CEO's contract of desperation

"I'm here to clean." Isabella knocked on the heavy oak door of the penthouse suite, her voice firm but polite. She clutched the mop handle in one hand, her cleaning supplies in the other. She had cleaned hundreds of rooms before, but this one belonged to him. Alexander Knight….the billionaire CEO, the man known for his ruthless business tactics, icy demeanor, and careless indulgences. She had seen him a few times in the hotel before, always in passing, always surrounded by an air of arrogance that made people step aside when he walked by. But tonight, he was alone. No entourage, no models clinging to his arms, just him and his vices. When no response came, Isabella knocked again. "Sir, I'm here to…." The door swung open abruptly. She barely had time to react before her breath hitched at the sight before her. Alexander Knight stood before her, his tall, commanding figure silhouetted against the dim golden glow of the penthouse. Even disheveled, he looked devastatingly gorgeous. His dark brown hair was tousled, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a hint of his sculpted chest. His piercing blue eyes, slightly clouded with intoxication, locked onto her, sending a strange shiver down her spine. The room smelled of whiskey, expensive cologne, and something darker, something intoxicatingly male. His lips curved into a smirk. "You’re here to clean?" His voice was deep, rich, laced with amusement. Isabella straightened her shoulders, trying to ignore how her heartbeat quickened under his gaze. "That is my job, Mr. Knight." He let out a low chuckle and stepped aside, gesturing lazily for her to enter. She hesitated before walking in, her eyes darting around the opulent space. It was magnificent, floor-to-ceiling windows with breathtaking views of the city skyline, marble floors that gleamed under the soft lighting, a grand chandelier hanging above the sitting area. Everything about it screamed wealth and power. But then there was the mess. The table was littered with empty whiskey glasses, his tie discarded carelessly on the floor, and his jacket thrown over the back of an expensive leather chair. "You’ve been drinking a lot," Isabella remarked as she placed the mop bucket down. Alexander leaned against the wall, watching her with a lazy smirk. "Observant." She scoffed, bending down to pick up a few empty bottles. "Drowning your sorrows, are we?" He chuckled, the sound rough and deep. "And what would you know about sorrows, little cleaner?" Isabella straightened and faced him, meeting his gaze head-on. "Enough to know that drinking yourself senseless won’t make them disappear." His smirk widened. "Bold." His eyes roamed over her, slow and deliberate. "You're sharp mouthed." "Maybe because I don’t care who you are." A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes, but there was something else too, something darker. "Is that so?" She shrugged, turning her back to him and dipping the mop into the bucket. "You’re just another rich man who thinks the world should bow at his feet." She heard him move, his slow footsteps approaching. "You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?" His voice was close now, too close. Isabella stiffened slightly but refused to turn around. "I think you’re reckless. You drink because you can. You ruin things because you don’t care. Must be nice being untouchable." His deep chuckle sent shivers down her spine. "And you? A woman like you…working this job. You could do better." Now she did turn around, her glare sharp. "And what do you know about my life?" His gaze drifted over her, lingering on the curve of her collarbone, the way her cleaning uniform stretched over her figure. Even in the unflattering fabric, her beauty was undeniable…her delicate skin glowing under the warm light, her dark curls framing her face perfectly. "You’re too beautiful for this job," he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. She huffed, gripping the mop tighter. "And you’re too drunk to know what you’re saying." His smirk returned, but this time, it was laced with something else….something dangerous. "Maybe. Or maybe I just say whatever the hell I want because I can." He took another step toward her, and she instinctively backed away. "Don’t come any closer," she warned. He arched his brow. "Or what?" She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, he whispered, "Why do you tempt me?" The air between them crackled. She should have been afraid. She should have walked out. But instead, she tilted her chin up defiantly. "I’m not tempting you. You’re just easily tempted." His eyes darkened. And then, before she could react, his lips crashed onto hers. She gasped against his mouth, but the moment his hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, her resolve shattered. The kiss was fierce, intoxicating, nothing like she had ever felt before. She didn’t know when the mop slipped from her fingers or when her hands found their way into his hair, but suddenly, she was lost…..lost in the way he devoured her, the way his lips claimed hers with a hunger that set her entire body on fire. The next thing she knew, he had lifted her off the ground, carrying her effortlessly to the massive bed. Everything blurred. His hands stripped away her uniform, his mouth tracing burning paths down her skin. She trembled beneath him, her breaths coming in shaky gasps. He caressed her breast with his bare hands feeling the softness, he could feel his erection poking through his trousers at this moment. "You’re beautiful," he murmured against her neck. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation, to the reckless desire that consumed them both. In the next swift move he plunged into her. She gasps in both pain and pleasure. She was tight, too tight than he's experienced. His thrust was slow and steady; he didn't want to hurt her. And then there was nothing but heat, pleasure, and the sound of their bodies entwining in the dim lit room. When Isabella woke up the next morning, the bed beside her was empty. He was gone. She sat up, her body aching in ways she had never experienced before. And then she saw it. A cheque. A very large sum. Her stomach twisted. She clutched the sheets, her breath catching when she noticed the faint stain of blood. Her fingers trembled as she touched it. He had taken her virginity. And now, he is gone. Her throat tightened. She wasn’t sure what she felt….insulted? Angry? Ashamed? All she knew was that her life had changed in ways she couldn’t yet comprehend. She stood, her legs unsteady as she grabbed her cleaning supplies. The mop bucket had tipped over in the night, water pooling across the floor. She bent down and began cleaning, because that’s what she did. She clea ned up messes. Even the ones that shattered her entire being at that moment. And she had no idea that this was only the beginning.