FORCED TO BE MY BOSS'S SIDE PIECE.

His Deep Searching Fingers

Koko’s POV

I finally finished the last part of the Meridian summary at 5:58pm. My fingers felt numb.

The entire summary sat neatly in a printed stack on my desk. I had skipped lunch, ignored the way my eyes burned with lack of sleep and done exactly what he demanded.

I stood, smoothed my skirt, and carried the files into his office. Wells was already on his feet, sliding his arms into his suit jacket.

“It’s done,” I said, setting the folder on his desk. “Everything you asked for.”

He glanced once at the cover page, flipped through two sheets, then closed it again. “Good. You’re coming with me.”

I blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Business meeting at Camden Hotel. Patrick and two potential investors. I need notes taken.”

“Mr. Kylo, it’s past six. My work time starts at seven in the morning and ends at 5pm. I’ve been here since before seven this morning. I need to go home and sleep if I’m going to function tomorrow.”

He didn’t even look up from his phone. “Shut up and get in the car.”

The words landed like a slap. I opened my mouth, closed it, and followed him out. The private elevator ride was silent. His car was already waiting outside. He opened the rear door himself and waited until I slid inside before climbing in after me.

At the venue, three men in expensive suits rose when we entered. Wells shook hands, introduced me as “my assistant,” and sat at the head of the table. I took the chair to his left, tablet ready, pen in hand.

For the first twenty minutes he was entirely focused, oozing control and power in a way that made the other men lean forward. I kept my eyes on the notes and tried my best to be insignificant.

Then his left hand disappeared under the table.

I felt his fingers on my knee first. A light, almost casual touch. Then higher. He pushed my skirt up slowly until he could touch my panties. I kept my face carefully blank while one of the investors asked about his gain after investing. Wells answered without a single hitch in his voice as his fingers found the edge of my panties and tugged them aside.

Two thick fingers slid through the wetness he had left me with that morning. I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood. He pushed inside without warning, curling his fingers mercilessly in my p***y.

My thighs trembled. I tried to close my legs tighter, to at least reduce the effect he had on me. He simply forced them apart again with his wrist and added a third finger.

The conversation continued. Someone asked about risks, Wells gave a perfect answer while his thumb rubbed my c**t in circles. It took all my will power to not moan out loud.

I could feel myself clenching around his fingers, the wet sounds thankfully buried in the overflow of their deep male voices.

I was right there—right on the edge, gripping my pen for dear life, when he pulled his hand away completely. He wiped his fingers on the inside of my thigh like he was brushing away lint, then reached for his water glass as if nothing had happened.

I sat frozen, empty and throbbing, the denied orgasm pulsing like a second heartbeat between my legs. The meeting wrapped ten minutes later with handshakes and promises to follow up. Wells stood, thanked them, and guided me out with a hand at my back that felt more like ownership than courtesy.

The car ride was silent. He didn’t look at me, he didn’t even speak. He completely acted like I wasn't riding with him.

I kept my hands folded in my lap, my thighs pressed together, still aching and unsatisfied. I had no idea where we were going until the car suddenly slowed and pulled up in front of a small, brightly lit diner

He put the car in park and finally turned his head.

“Get out.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “What?”

“You heard me. Get out of the car.”

“Mr. Kylo, I don’t have my bag, I don’t even know where—”

“f*****g get out!”

My legs were unsteady when I stepped out of the car. The second the door shut, he pulled away from the curb and disappeared into traffic. No goodbye, no offer to at least pay for my ride home, just the red glow of his brakelights fading into the night.

I stood there for a long moment, exhausted down to the marrow, and worst still, humiliated to the core.

My boss has struck again.

I had nowhere else to go that didn’t require walking miles in heels, so I turned and walked inside the diner.

A handful of customers occupied the booths. I slid into the first empty one near the window, dropped my head into my hands, and tried to breathe past the tightness in my chest.

A shadow fell across the table.

“Koko?”

I looked up. Ivan stood there in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, his dark hair was a little messy like he had just taken off a helmet. His eyes scanned my face, then narrowed.

“You look like hell,” he said quietly, sliding into the seat across me. “Worse than the other night.”

I tried for a weak smile. “Yea. Long day.”

He studied me for another second, his jaw tightening. “Your boss again?”

I nodded once.

His eyes immediately became cold. Then, he leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table.

“Who is this guy? Describe him. Maybe I’ll go have a word.”

“It’s not—you don’t need to do that.”

“I didn’t ask if I needed to. I asked who he is. Describe him now. Height. Hair. The way he talks. Anything. I have enough time on my hands for him, Koko.”

I hesitated. Instinct told me to keep quiet and protect the fragile professional wall I was still trying to build. But the exhaustion, the leftover ache between my legs, the way Wells had just dumped me on the curb like discarded trash—it all loosened my tongue.

“He’s tall, has dark hair, cold eyes… he speaks every word like a command for the rest of the world to obey him. Runs Kylo Global. Treats people like they’re disposable every damn time.”

Ivan went very still.

I kept going, too tired to notice the change in his expression. “He makes impossible demands, then punishes you when you can’t meet them. Today he made me sit through an entire investor meeting while he… while he touched me under the table and then left me hanging. Then he drove me here and ordered me out of the car like I was trash. That’s my boss.”

Ivan’s mouth opened, then closed. The color had drained from his face. When he finally spoke, the words came out rough, almost disbelieving.

“Wells Kylo, my brother?”