His ruin

Be my maid

I stirred awake to the sudden sunlight that had peaked through the room. I stretched my hand out to pick up my phone from the bedside table, but my fingers felt nothing except the smooth silk bedsheet beneath them.

Immediately, my eyes snapped open, and I jolted upright.

I stared hard at my surroundings.

Where am I?

What am I doing here?

And what’s the damn time?

My last thought made me scramble out of bed.

“Charlotte?” I muttered under my breath.

Shrugging out of the silk cotton nightwear, I quickly put on my work clothes, which were placed on the chair in the room, and dashed toward the door.

Quietly opening it, I peeked into the hallway.

The hallway seemed familiar.

“Oh, f**k,” I whispered under my breath as I made my way downstairs.

“This is Jane’s house. I slept in her house?”

Not bothering to stop and look for her, I opened the door and closed it behind me.

Now standing in front of her apartment with nothing on me except my work clothes, no money on me.

Talking about money, I remembered I had left my purse in my locker at the club and I couldn’t go back to the hospital or home without it.

So I flagged down a cab and headed back to that shithole.

Slowly, the car stopped in front of the once-crowded entrance of the club, which now looked completely deserted.

I stepped down and bent toward the car.

“Sorry, sir, but I have no money on me,” I said, before immediately taking to my heels and heading toward the entrance.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“b***h, come back here!”

That was the last thing I heard before I closed the door.

Phew.

That was a risky one.

I entered the first floor.

Everywhere was quiet. Not even one person was in sight.

I rounded the counter and made my way to the locker room. Stopping in front of my locker, I inputted my password, and it clicked open.

There it was.

My purse.

Perfectly fine.

But then

Bang!

A door slammed.

I immediately grabbed my purse and rushed out of the locker room, aiming for the entrance. I just wanted to leave this place. My heartbeat was racing.

As I hurried toward the counter, I saw a man with his back to me, pouring himself a drink while talking on the phone.

I immediately took a step back, trying to hide.

But it was too late.

He had already noticed me.

I caught a glimpse of his side profile.

“I want the documents ready before noon,” he said before cutting the call without giving the person on the other end a chance to respond.

“You can come out now,” he said, gulping the contents of his drink all at once.

With shaking hands, shaky legs, and a racing heartbeat, I slowly came out from where I had been hiding.

I had no idea why I was so scared of this guy.

“Sir, I just came to get what I forgot here last …”

The man in the suit swiftly turned at the sound of my voice, and my words immediately died in my throat.

“Damien?”

“Well, if it isn’t my maid.”

He turned away, poured himself another drink, and then turned to face me again.

“Do you care for some?” he asked, although it was clear as day that he had no intention of pouring me one.

“No, sir. I was just leaving,” I said, lowering my head as I made my way out from behind the bar counter.

But before I could make it out, I was gently pulled back and lifted onto the counter. My legs were separated, and he stepped between them.

I was left completely shocked.

But he simply tilted his face, watching every reaction of mine.

I tried to push him away, but that only made him push me closer.

Every push from me pulled me closer to him until there was no space left between us.

I was already breathing hard, while his breathing remained strangely even.

“What do you want, Damien?” I asked, the only thing running through my mind.

“Shhh.”

His response was accompanied by his hand settling over my lips.

Slowly, he pulled down my lower lip, urging me to part my mouth.

And as if I had no control over myself, I did as he implied.

I slowly parted my lips.

He took his fingers away from my mouth, leaving me there with my lips parted and a look of confusion on my face.

Dipping two fingers into his drink, he brought his dripping fingers toward my parted mouth and gently pushed them in.

“Suck.”

And that was all I needed to hear before I closed my mouth around his two fingers, wrapped my tongue around them, and started sucking, tasting and licking the strong whiskey from his fingers.

It was as if the whiskey itself intoxicated me, because the next thing I did left both of us in shock.

I brought my hands up and wrapped them around his hand that was in my mouth, and I continued sucking.

After a few seconds, he cleared his throat, bringing his other hand to my chin and held onto it, pressing hard against my cheeks. The pressure forced my mouth open and his fingers out of my mouth, which is now coated with my saliva.

He looked down at his fingers and shook his head. When he looked at me again, something dominee and dark flashed in his eyes.

Then he tapped my cheek, seemingly like a gentle slap before letting go of my chin.

“Good girl.”

He grabbed his drink and gulped down the entire contents at once, not bothering to wipe the saliva off his fingers.

And I sat there, breathing so hard, asking myself what the hell I had just done.

But deep down in my heart, I liked the way he praised me.

My heart swelled.

“Emilia?”

“Yes,” I said, lowering my head and fiddling with my fingers.

“You will always look at me whenever I am talking to you, yes?”

“Ye . . .yes, sir.”

I didn’t know why I was so scared of him now.

Maybe it was because of how close we were. But you weren’t this scared while you were literally clinging onto his hands, were you?

“Emilia, I don’t like the idea of you working in my club. I have tried to let you know that in the best way I can,” his voice broke my trance, irritation and boiling anger now radiating from him.

He’s referring to yesterday’s event . . . how he humiliated me.

And you think your opinion matters.

“Do you also think I like working in a club?!” My voice was slightly raised.

“This is my only option, Damien. The only work that will pay me well and the only work that accepts me without a certificate or experience.”

My chest was now heaving up and down.

“No, Emilia. That’s not your only option,” he said, nodding his head at my now-confused look.

“Yes, Emilia. That’s not your only option,” he repeated.

I stared at him, confused.

“Come work for me.”

I blinked, not this again.

“Come work for me in my home.” My heart skipped.

He held my gaze.

“Be my maid once again, Emilia.”