Make Me Yours, Daddy

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~*JUNE*~

The universe must really hate me.

That’s the only explanation for why I’m in this mess right now.

I know I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, but I don’t f*****g deserve this.

I don’t f*****g deserve to be in a position where one reckless night, one where I made a complete fool of myself, could cost me my job.

Never, not even in my wildest dreams, did I imagine that the man I almost slept with two weeks ago would turn out to be my boss, let alone the CEO of the Macaulay Media Group.

The realization still weighs heavily on my chest, pressing down until it feels almost impossible to breathe.

If this is a nightmare, I need to wake up from it. Now.

I sure as hell have no doubt he remembers me.

I saw it in his eyes the moment I walked through that door, the flicker of recognition, the way his jaw tightened, the shift in his gaze from curious to something cold and sharp.

It made my stomach churn.

I should have faced the consequences that night. I shouldn't have run away.

Gosh…

Why the hell did I even slap him and run off like a coward?

He’s going to fire me, there’s no doubt about it.

Letting out a shaky breath, I run my hand along my face.

Fuck. f*****g f**k.

Right now, I’m on the edge of a full meltdown.

I feel like I’m going crazy.

And to make matters worse, my legs are still shaking from being in his office earlier.

It’s a miracle I didn’t collapse there, given how badly my body was trembling.

Just his gaze made me feel like I might pee myself.

He looked at me like I was something he wanted to crush.

The look in his eyes was terrifying, so different from that night.

It was as if he had become a completely different person.

Staring at the computer screen, I let out a quiet sigh. It’s been blank for hours.

Mr. Harrison gave me a report to complete a while ago, and I haven't typed a single word because I can't focus.

The thoughts in my head have clouded everything, including my vision until there's nothing left but static and fear.

The office hums around me—keyboards clicking, phones ringing, distant conversations—but it all sounds muffled, like I'm underwater.

And to think about it, there's no use getting any work done anyway.

I'll be getting fired any second now.

Knowing that fact makes my heart race so fast that I fear I might have a panic attack.

I take a long, deep breath, trying to gather myself so I don't actually collapse here.

I need to get myself together.

I'm just going to get fired, that's all.

It's not like I'm the first person to ever get fired.

Sure, there will be nights of crying and days spent searching for a new job, but it’s not the end of the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve been staring at the clock for God knows how long, and with every passing minute, my anxiety grows.

Now the clock on the office wall reads 5:00, which means it’s closing time.

Everyone else is packing up and heading home, while I stay stuck, still staring at the clock, trapped in my own spiraling thoughts.

I haven't moved in hours.

The biggest shock of the day? No one came for me. No one called me to the CEO’s office. No security guard appeared at my desk.

Somehow, I made it through the entire day without getting fired.

Am I happy about that? Yes.

Am I still scared? Also yes. Because now… I have no idea what to expect.

Is he going to fire me tomorrow?

Next week?

The moment I least expect it?

The not knowing is worse than anything.

It sits in my stomach like spoiled food, churning and burning.

Or maybe… there’s a chance he doesn’t remember me.

Maybe I’m just another face to him, another employee, another nobody.

That night might have meant nothing to him.

Who was I kidding? It meant nothing.

A man like him, rich, powerful, and undeniably handsome, probably have women throwing themselves at him every night.

Surely, he’s already forgotten I exist.

I almost convince myself of it.

Then I remembered the way his eyes locked onto mine and the way he spoke to me in a condescending tone.

And just like that, that thought crashes out the window.

"June?"

The sound of someone calling me wrecks me from my busy thoughts.

I turn and see Catherine standing beside my desk, her bag already slung over her shoulder. "June, aren't you going home?"

"I—yes. I'm leaving. Thanks."

She smiles. "Okay. See you tomorrow."

She walks away, and I watch her go before finally pushing myself up from my chair.

My legs feel unsteady as I grab my bag, weaving through the maze of cubicles toward the exit.

Just as I step into the lobby, my eyes land on him.

The man who’s going to be my freaking nightmare—from now on.

The CEO.

He’s crossing the lobby with two large men—probably his bodyguards.

Shit.

I duck behind a corner so fast I almost twist my ankle.

My heart slams against my ribs as I press my back to the wall, forcing myself to breathe slowly, quietly.

I peek around the edge just enough to watch him move toward the entrance.

Even from here, under the fluorescent lights of the lobby, he looks too perfect. Too powerful. Too much.

The aura around him is absurdly majestic.

Like he’s strutting down a runway instead of walking through a lobby full of tired employees heading home.

His tall frame, sharp jaw, broad shoulders and well-built body give him the kind of presence that makes people instinctively move out of his way.

His suit fits like it was painted on, and he moves as if he owns this place.

Which, clearly, he does.

He owns this company—maybe a few others too—and probably half the city.

And right now, he owns the power over whether I'll have a job tomorrow.

He disappears through the entrance doors.

I wait, counting to sixty in my head, before I peek out again.

There is no sign of him.

Fabulous.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"What are you doing?"

A voice says from behind me.

I jump and spin around so fast I nearly fall.

Catherine stands right behind me, head tilted, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

What’s she doing behind me?

I thought she’d already headed home.

Pressing my hand against my chest, I try to keep my heart from leaping right out of it. "You scared me."

She giggles. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's fine."

It's not f*****g fine.

Nothing is fine.

But I force a small smile anyway.

She studies my face. "Why were you peeking like that? Are you hiding from someone?"

"No!" The word comes out too loud, too fast.

She gives me a weird look, and I instantly realize I've f****d up.

I lower my voice, trying to sound calmer. "I mean, no, I'm not. I was... looking for my bracelet. I dropped it earlier."

Her expression softens. "Oh. Did you find it?"

"No." I shake my head.

"Let me help you." She starts to bend down, and I grab her arm before she can.

"Don't worry about it."

She straightens, frowning. "But your bracelet—"

"It's fine." I cut her off, waving my hand as casually as I can. "I can just get another one. It wasn't expensive."

She studies me for a long moment, and I force myself to hold her gaze, to look normal, to look like someone who isn’t terrified of running into her own boss.

"Okay…" she finally says. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Let's head home."

"Alright."

We walk out together, through the lobby and into the cool evening air.

The sidewalk stretches before us, crowded with people rushing home, cars honking, the city moving like it always does.

Catherine says something about her train, and I nod without really listening.

My mind is elsewhere.

I keep replaying the events from earlier in my mind, letting my thoughts consume me until I finally reach one conclusion: I need to avoid the CEO.

I just need to stay out of his way.

Never deliver his coffee again.

Never be anywhere he might be.

If I’m invisible enough—if I’m careful enough—maybe he’ll forget about me.

Maybe, just maybe, I won’t get fired, and I can keep my job.