You didn't give me a chance!!
1351 Words
~Jed POV~
I watched her turn towards me, moving in uncertain steps tiny, hesitant things that barely counted as walking.
A few hours ago, she had seemed like the type to spit fire at anyone who crossed her. Bold, loud and reckless. Now she looked like a candle trembling in a storm. I surely hated this .
Not the kind of transformation I usually enjoyed. I liked my women completely different.
I preferred women who pushed back. Women who snapped. Women who knew they were beautiful and weren’t afraid to weaponize it. Vulnerable women irritated me.
They reminded me too much of the people who bent under my father's shadow, nodding to everything he said because they feared being crushed under his voice.
She wasn’t supposed to look this fragile.
But maybe that was my fault for assuming anything about her after only two minutes of chaos by my car.
And speaking of my car…
My jaw clenched at the memory. I had barely stepped out of the vehicle before a stone, an actual stone came flying through the freshly imported window of my brand-new machine. The sound still rang in my head: a sharp, ugly c***k that no luxury car deserved. I had turned immediately, prepared to strangle whichever i***t dared
Only to find a girl.
A dirty, disheveled, overall-wearing girl.
Beautiful , yes, but not in a way I cared to appreciate at the time. My car held a much bigger position in my life.
In that moment, she had become nothing more than a problem.A problem that needed elimination.
And now she was here in my office, trembling like the problem knew its consequences.
She reached the door and paused, waiting for me to speak. I let my annoyance simmer for another second before stepping aside and gesturing inside.
“Come,” I said, my voice flat. “After me.”
She followed without a word. For someone who had barked at me earlier, she was surprisingly obedient now. The moment we walked back into the temporary office, the workers outside tried. and failed to hide their curiosity. I didn’t bother hiding my irritation.
“I believe you all have work to do,” I snapped.
Every head instantly dropped, tools clattering back into motion.
Good.
Inside the office, I moved behind the desk and leaned against it, arms crossed. She looked so small against the backdrop of peeling paint and dusty windows. I hated this building. I hated everything about this assignment. And I hated that my father had shoved the entire company on my shoulders like some twisted inheritance prize.
Modeling. That was the dream I had had. The career I’d wanted since I was old enough to choose anything for myself. Runways, lights, cameras, things that belonged to me, not the legacy of a man who cared more about money than his own son's happiness.
But being the only child meant choices weren’t really choices.
So here I was...managing renovations, construction sites, smelly neighborhoods, and angry workers.
And dealing with stones through windows. Things I really didn't want.
She stood stiffly across from me now, her face pale, her hands fidgeting with each other.
“Sit,” I told her.
She obeyed instantly, lowering herself into the chair as though it might bite. I watched her silently for a long moment. She wouldn't look at me. Her eyes stayed glued to her hands.
Interesting.
Earlier, she had been all fire and sharp words. A street cat spitting at a lion. Now she looked like she’d run out of claws.
“Miss Means,” I began slowly, “You seem very different from the girl who nearly tore into me earlier.”
She swallowed hard. “I...”
“Don’t,” I cut in. “I’m not interested in excuses.”
Her shoulders tightened. The fear in her eyes didn’t thrill me the way fear usually did. It confused me instead. She wasn’t faking it. She genuinely looked terrified.
“You broke my car window,” I continued. “A window worth more than a year of your salary.”
“I…” Her voice cracked. “It...it was an accident.”
“Really?” I pushed off the desk and walked toward her, stopping just inches away. “You didn’t even apologize.”
“You didn’t give me a chance.” The words slipped out as if she regretted them the moment they escaped.
My brow lifted. “Be careful, Miss Means.”
Silence.
She clenched her jaw and looked away, clearly fighting the urge to defend herself further. A smart choice.
“But I’m not here to discuss your attitude,” I said, turning toward the window. Outside, the workers were busy pretending they weren’t terrified of me. “I have already decided on something else.”
Her breath hitched.
“I am firing your boyfriend,” I said casually.
Her head snapped up. “What?”
I didn’t repeat myself.
“No...no, you can’t do that,” she blurted, standing abruptly. “Ham had nothing to do with what happened. It was my fault. He...he shouldn’t lose his job because of me.”
Her voice trembled with urgency, desperation.
It struck something sharp inside my chest.
Not sympathy.
I didn’t do sympathy. They were not my thing really.
“You care about him that much?” I asked slowly.
“He has a family,” she said quickly. “His mother and sister depend on him. Please… please don’t fire him because of me.”
There it was.
Self-sacrifice.
The willingness to bleed for someone else.
Something I had never seen from the women who usually climbed into my bed for fame, attention, or pleasure.
She wasn’t trying to save herself.
She was trying to save him.
“How noble,” I muttered under my breath.
She flinched.
I let the silence stretch until I could practically feel her heartbeat pounding through the air.
“Sit down,” I finally said.
She obeyed.
I stepped closer. Close enough to see the small panic flickering in her pupils.
“There is another way,” I said quietly. “If you don’t want him fired.”
She looked up slowly, dread crawling through her expression. “Another… way?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
I let the words hang for a beat.
Then I said it.
“One night,” I said, voice low and controlled. “In my bed.”
Her lips parted. Her face changed shock, anger, disbelief, all twisting together.
“Absolutely not,” she whispered. “I...I won’t do that. Deduct my salary. Punish me however you want, but don’t think don’t think I will sleep with you.”
I laughed.
I didn’t plan to, it just escaped. A sharp, humorless sound that filled the small office. The look on her face only made it worse, and I had to turn away to control the smirk forming.
“You?” I repeated calmly. “Do you have any idea how much that car window costs? You couldn’t pay it off in two years, Miss Means. I’m offering you a faster way.”
“I won’t do it,” she whispered.
“Then your boyfriend loses his job.”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” she snapped.
My jaw tightened, annoyance slicing through me. She still had enough fire left to bark at me. Interesting.
“Enough,” I said. “I’m not here to debate with you.” I moved toward the door and opened it. “You can leave now.”
She hesitated, looking broken, lost.
Good.
Let her stew in fear.
Maybe she’d come back with a clearer mind.
But as she stepped out, I let my voice drop into something lower, quieter, more dangerous.
“Miss Means.”
She turned.
“If you want to save him,” I said, watching her closely, “You already know the price.” I spoke confidently.
Her breath caught.
And then I said it again, slowly this time, deliberately, sealing it like a contract.
“One night. In my bed.”
- Writer
