"Mr. Lance, it seems like you don't teach your staff anything," the man seated at the table snarled, his anger thick in the air. I dared not look up as Mr. Lance's eyes flicked over to my direction, but I could feel the weight of his gaze burn through me.
"To my office. Now!" Mr. Lance barked, his voice sharp with fury. I flinched, every muscle in my body tightening. This was bad—really bad.
I walked out of the VIP lounge as quickly as I could, hearing Mr. Lance's rapid-fire apologies to the old man behind me,
but all I could focus on was the storm that was coming for me. I knew I was in deep trouble, but the thought of that disgusting old pig touching me again made my stomach churn. I could still feel his hands on me, the lingering filth of his advances.
The thought made me want to puke.
But I had no choice. I had to face this.
I had to be brave.
I wasn't the type to back down from a fight, no matter how grim it looked. I can do this, I whispered to myself as I reached the door to his office.
My hand hovered over the doorknob, and the memory of the last time I stood in this exact spot sent a cold shiver down my spine.
Please… don't let it happen again.
I pushed the door open, the sterile, casual design of the office doing nothing to calm my nerves. I knew the drill—just stand, wait, and pray that I'd make it out without further humiliation.
Minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Finally, Mr. Lance walked in, his eyes narrowing as he took me in. "Miss Mendez," he said coldly, his steps heavy, like a predator approaching its prey. I instinctively shifted back, but there was nowhere to go.
"I'm sure you're very familiar with the rules around here." His voice was chilling, like a low growl that reverberated through my body. His eyes bored into mine, waiting.
"Mr. Lance, I swear, I had a good reason," I stammered, my voice shaking.
He smirked. "Then let's hear it."
My words tangled in my throat as I tried to find the right ones. The repulsion was overwhelming. "He—he tried to touch me," I forced out, my voice thick with disgust. "He promised to get me in bed."
"Then?" His eyes were cold, almost expectant, as if he had already heard this all before.
I stood there, dumbfounded, unable to believe that was all he had to say. Of course, it would be that way—of course. My mind raced as I tried to gather myself. I had to do something. "Then… he—he disgusts me! I couldn't let him—"
I stopped when I saw Mr. Lance take a step closer.
My heart hammered against my chest. I backed away until my body hit the wall, and I realized there was no escape.
I knew this scenario all too well. It was the same as before—the first time I'd been summoned to his office. He had tried to kiss me, force himself on me. The thought of it made my skin crawl.
He was too close now—his presence suffocating.
His breath was on my face, and I could feel the weight of his gaze as he leaned in, his lips inches from mine. I could taste the danger in the air, and my body tensed in terror.
Just as he was about to close the distance, a knock sounded at the door, sharp and loud. The moment shattered.
"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, and my pulse quickened with a mixture of relief and fear.
I didn't know whether to thank the heavens or curse my fate. I had gotten lucky—for now.
Mr. Lance's eyes roamed over me one last time, his gaze filled with something dark, almost possessive. "You got lucky today," he muttered. "You're one of the pretty ones. It'd be a shame to drop you." His words dripped with malice as he left, his lingering presence a reminder of everything I had just survived.
I stood there, heart still pounding in my chest, feeling filthy—violated. As the door clicked shut behind him, I couldn't hold it in any longer. I sank my hands into my hair, gripping it in frustration and disgust. How much longer would I have to endure this?
I quickly gathered myself, my head spinning, but I couldn't afford to break. I had to leave this room, this nightmare. I had to walk out and pretend like I wasn't completely unraveling inside.