POV: Fiona
My hand hovered over the cold brass doorknob. My heart was slamming against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack them.
"Sit down," Maxwell Jordan said. His voice wasn't loud, but it filled the massive office.
I looked at the man sitting behind the giant desk. He was the monster who had grabbed me at the club. He was the reason I had been fired, the reason I had spent the last three weeks eating nothing but cheap noodles, terrified of losing my small apartment.
"Is this some kind of sick joke?" I asked, my voice trembling. I looked down at my resume scattered across his expensive carpet. "Did you bring me all the way up here just to humiliate me again?"
Maxwell let out a long, heavy sigh and rubbed his face with his hands, looking incredibly guilty.
"No, Fiona," he
