FORCED TO BE MY BOSS'S SIDE PIECE.

Damsel in Distress

Koko’s POV

I was still shaking when I slid behind the wheel of my old Honda car. The parking garage felt colder than it should have. My thighs ached. My throat still carried the ghost of his hand.

And the way he had dismissed me, like I was something he had scraped off his shoe, kept replaying in my head on a loop.

I drove without thinking, just wanting distance. Street lights blurred past. I didn’t notice the neighborhood getting rougher until the engine gave a sick cough, sputtered, and died right there on the street. I had only mananaged to pull the car off the road, and parked by the side.

“No. No, no, no—” I twisted the key again. Nothing. Just the hollow sound of a dead battery, or worse.

I sat there for a full minute, my heart hammering, before I forced myself to get out. I looked around. The street looked eerie. This wasn't a safe neighbourhood at all. Of all places my car would break down…

Turning back to my car, I popped the hood and stared at the engine like it might suddenly fix itself. I didn't have a clue for the next thing to do.

The sound of motorcycles rumbling in the distance reached me. Three bikes rolled up slowly, engines growling. The lead rider cut his engine and swung a long leg over the side. Tall. Broad. Dark jeans, black leather cut with a coiled snake patch on the back. Helmet came off, and I got a face that looked like it had been carved from stone. He had sharp jaw, messy dark hair and eyes that were deeply accessing.

He walked towards me like he owned the asphalt.

“Car trouble, sweetheart?”

His voice was rough velvet, nothing like the cold one I had just left behind.

I straightened, trying to look less like prey. “My car just died. I don’t even know what’s wrong with it.”

He glanced under the hood, then at me. He did a slow, appreciative sweep of my hair roughened from the s*x I just had, down to my shoes. It made heat crawl up my neck

“Pop the driver’s side. Let me see.”

I did. He leaned in, checked a few things and muttered under his breath. One of the other bikers stayed on his bike, watching the street. The third lit a cigarette and leaned against a lamppost.

“Battery’s dead,” the tall one said, straightening. “And it looks like your alternator is faulty. You’re lucky it didn’t leave you stranded somewhere worse.”

“Lucky,” I said, echoing the irony.

He wiped his hands on a rag he pulled from his back pocket and stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell leather and motor oil and his natural scent.

“Name’s Ivan. What’s yours?”

“Koko.”

“Koko.” He tasted it like it pleased him. “Pretty name for a pretty girl stuck on the wrong side of town at this hour. You got someone coming for you?”

I shook my head. “No. I was just… heading home.”

He studied my face longer than the car. “You’ve been crying.”

“I haven’t.”

“Your mascara says otherwise.” His tone softened a fraction. “If it’s about the car, relax. I can jump it enough to get you to a shop or home, whichever’s closer. My boys and I don’t leave women stranded.”

Something in my chest cracked open. The careful walls I had been holding since Wells shoved me out of his office started to crumble.

“It’s not just the car.”

Ivan leaned a hip against the bonnet, arms crossed, waiting patiently for me to explain why I was sad.

“Bad day?” he asked quietly.

I let out a short, bitter laugh. “My first day at a new job. Executive secretary to the CEO of this big company. I thought I could handle anything. I was determined to stay professional. Keep my head down. Prove myself.”

He nodded once, encouraging me to continue.

“He spent the entire day testing me. Impossible demands. Correcting every little thing. Making me feel like I was already failing. Then I stayed late, because that’s what he expected, and I saw him putting something in a safe in his office. Secret documents, I guess. I… I confronted him about it. Stupidly.”

Ivan’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened.

“What did he do?”

I swallowed. The memory of Wells’s hand around my throat, the way he had f****d me against the wall, the way he had pulled out and looked at me like I was nothing… it all rushed back.

“He… he made it clear I had overstepped. Then things got—” I stopped, heat flooding my face. “Physical. And the second it was over, he looked at me like I was pure trash. Told me it meant nothing. Told me to get out. Said if I ever acted like it mattered he would ruin me. Then he ordered me to be back at 6:45 in the morning with his coffee like nothing happened.”

My voice broke on the last sentence. Tears I had been holding since the parking garage finally spilled over.

Ivan pushed off the car and stepped into my space. He was big and solid and warm. One big hand came up and gently wiped a tear from my cheek.

“Heyyyy, easy.” His voice dropped lower. “That boss of yours sounds like a real douchebag. Those kinds of pricks who think the world exists just to serve them.”

I nodded, unable to speak for a second.

“You’re allowed to be shaken up after something like that,” he continued. “Doesn’t make you weak. Makes you human. And for what it’s worth, any man who treats a woman like that after putting his hands on her isn’t worth your tears.”

The kindness in his tone undid me further. I wiped at my face, trying to pull myself together.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You’re a total stranger.”

“Strangers are sometimes the safest people to talk to,” he said with a small, crooked smile. “No history. No judgment. Just a guy who hates seeing a beautiful woman cry on the side of the road.”

His flirtation was there, easy and open. It didn’t feel predatory. It felt like sunlight after a storm. My body still hummed with leftover adrenaline and the memory of Wells. But standing this close to Ivan made something traitorous in my stomach flutter.

He finished jumping the car and the engine turned over with a reluctant growl. One of his crew called out that they needed to roll.

Ivan dug into his pocket and pulled out a black business card. No company name. Just a phone number and the words “Ivan – Viper Syndicate” in clean print.

“My personal number,” he said, pressing it into my hand. His fingers lingered a second longer than necessary. “You get stuck again—car, job, whatever—you call me. Day or night. I mean it.”

I looked down at the card, then up at him. “Thank you very much Ivan.”

He gave me one last look, then swung back on his bike. The three engines roared to life in unison. He lifted two fingers in a casual salute before disappearing down the dark street, leaving only the fading thunder of their bikes.

I sat in the driver’s seat for sometime, before I forced myself to drive the rest of the way home. My apartment was quiet and too empty. I kicked off my heels, dropped my bag, and collapsed on the couch without even turning on the lights.

My phone buzzed on the cushion beside me.

I almost ignored it. Then I saw the sender.

Wells Kylo.

Subject: Priority Assignment – Due 9:00am.

I opened the email with trembling fingers.

Miss Zyaire,

Attached is the complete restructuring proposal for the Meridian acquisition. I need a full summary, revised financial projections, risk assessment, and a one-page briefing document suitable for the board. All data must be cross-checked against the original contracts in the shared drive.

This is to be completed and on my desk, printed and digital, by 9:00am tomorrow. No extensions. No excuses.

Do not disappoint me again.

—W.K.

I stared at the screen. The timestamp on the email was 12:47am. My phone’s clock read 1:03am.

A week’s worth of work. At least.

And I had less than eight hours.

My stomach dropped through the floor.