His Private Hell - Chapter 53: Chapter 53
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The Devil's Proof
The morning crept in like a thief, and Eella awoke tangled in sweat-damp sheets, Garrison’s body heat branding her from behind. His arm was slung low across her waist, possessive even in sleep, and the weight of his breath against her neck reminded her of everything they’d done—twice, maybe three times, she’d lost count when her body stopped obeying reason.
She shifted carefully, but his grip tightened, a low growl stirring from his chest.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he muttered, voice rough from sleep and sex. “I’m not done with you.”
She inhaled sharply. “I wasn’t trying to leave.”
“Liar.”
His hand drifted lower, between her thighs, fingers pressing into the tender proof of the night they’d shared. She gasped.
“You’re sore.” His voice dropped to something darker. “I like that.”
He rolled her onto her back, settling between her legs with the practiced ease of a man who knew exactly how to destroy. And rebuild.
“I should go—work—” she started, half-hearted, but he silenced her with his mouth. There was no foreplay now. Just hunger. Unapologetic, raw. He made her feel like prey and worshipped all at once.
His teeth grazed her collarbone. “You go to work when I tell you to.”
“Excuse me?” Her breath hitched.
He slid inside her in one long stroke that stole the words from her throat. Her back arched instinctively, mouth parting in a cry she didn’t have time to suppress. He fucked her with quiet fury, control laced with obsession.
“You think last night changed anything?” he murmured, fingers locking around her wrists and pinning them above her head. “You belong to me now.”
Her body betrayed her with every clench, every whimper. She hated how much she wanted to believe him.
“Say it,” he hissed. “Say you’re mine.”
“No,” she breathed.
He slammed deeper.
“No.”
Again.
“No—”
Her scream broke on a sob of surrender as climax overtook her, fierce and shattering.
And still, he didn’t stop.
By the time they lay breathless and soaked in sweat, Eella was too stunned to move. Her skin tingled. Her body hummed with sore satisfaction.
Garrison finally released her hands. “You disobeyed me,” he said quietly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But I’ll allow it—for now.”
She laughed bitterly. “You’re insane.”
He smiled. “You have no idea.”
Eella woke to the weight of his arm across her ribs—Garrison’s scent lingering in the sheets. The early morning sun glowed faintly through the curtains, but inside this room, light felt optional. Every inch of her body pulsed from last night—the relentless thrust, the grit of his teeth at her throat, the way he’d claimed her as if carving her flesh with each kiss.
She inhaled, throat tight with tension or lust—it was impossible to tell which.
He stirred, opening one eye, and that glance was enough to melt her resolve. His grin was predatory yet tender, edged with mischief. He leaned down and kissed her, slow and hungry, as if reconfirming ownership.
“Morning, my sin,” he murmured.
“Morning, my prison,” she breathed back, and for a moment, it was a declaration of love instead of defiance.
⸻
1. Power Play at Dawn
She tried to leave—gently, carefully—but he pulled her back.
“No,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You stay.”
“Work,” she protested softly. “You know what we have.”
He smiled against her skin. “Yes. And I don’t want you scarring yourself before breakfast.”
She sat up enough to look at him. His eyes were unreadable.
“I’m yours,” she whispered.
He sighed, soft and hollow. “Is that why you smile at the intern?”
Her laugh was harsh. “Leave me alone.”
But his fingers trailed down her ribcage, pressing again against her heat. “Every smile that isn’t mine makes me want to tear you apart.”
The intensity of that sentence spoke of how deep they’d fallen. And how dangerous it all was.
⸻
2. The Smear Campaign
By late morning, the boardroom was a war zone. Garrison’s rivals—led by Victor Maddox—had launched a calculated smear campaign. Leaked rumors tied Garrison to Darcie’s “departure.” Subtle innuendo about his generosity with female assistants—and Eella at his side as the new favorite target.
Eella could feel the room’s hostility as she entered, her heels echoing off marble floors. She dared a glance at Garrison, closed his laptop, and stood.
“No,” he said firmly—and she realized, for a moment, she had forgotten why she walked into the storm with him.
She strode forward, voice firm. “If anyone here is suggesting impropriety, open your mouths now.”
The board members shifted uncomfortably. No one spoke.
He slid his chair back and stood beside her, smooth and strong. “Let’s keep the focus on business.”
Instantly, attention snapped back to the slideshow behind him. The campaign numbers. The merges. The projections.
She swallowed the surge of triumph over her doubts—as long as they appeared united.
⸻
3. Eella’s Counterattack
Later that day, alone with Ollie, Eella rifled through data. She found buried assistant evaluations, HR memos revealing Darcie had objected to ‘unorthodox’ management meetings—never filed any complaint, but heavily implied pressure.
She emailed the file to Victor official with CC to the entire board. Subject: “Clarification on Management Conduct.”
In minutes, feedback poured in from shocked execs. Victor’s face paled at the next board meeting.
Garrison’s eyes found Eella’s across the table. He said nothing, but his gratitude was scorching.
⸻
4. Boardroom Showdown
That night, the boardroom transformed into their stage. Garrison and Eella faced the same rivals in full view.
Garrison stood, pinning Victor in a glare. “If this is about me and my assistant,” he said curtly, “then you’ve lost.”
Ella stepped forward, voice even. “If this is about protecting the company, then let me remind you all: we uncovered hidden liabilities and brought them to light. No woman was harmed here—only empowered.”
Gasps. Murmurs.
Victor’s face twisted. “We just want disclosure.”
She smiled coldly. “You have it now.”
He faltered. She held his gaze—and for the first time, Garrison nodded at her.
They won.
⸻
5. Erotic Reprisal
Afterward, in the executive suite, they let the tension unwind.
He traced her jaw. “You made them back down.”
She dipped under his hand. “Let me reward you.”
He didn’t say a word. He pulled her into the darkened bedroom—no mirrors, no interruptions—just their shared heartbeat.
His body moved over hers with familiar urgency. She returned every thrust, every brush of skin, every low moan. When he kissed her raw, she answered with desperation and need. No dominance. No games. Just pure connection.
They crashed together again, breathless. This time, it wasn’t flames. It was the steady glow of two broken people holding on to each other.
⸻
6. Darcie’s Clue
In the quiet that followed, Eella found his private safe unlocked. She slipped inside and found an unassuming ledger—dates and codes. One line caught her breath:
10/10: Olivia Vale—FULL FILE. DO NOT DESTROY.
Full file.
She realized Olivia Vale was Darcie’s name.
On impulse, she took a photo with her phone. He caught the flash of intent.
He came up behind her. “It’ll tell you. But it could kill you.”
She turned to him. “Let me choose.”
He nodded. “Tomorrow. Meet me.”
⸻
7. Cliffhanger
That night, her phone buzzed.
A text from an unregistered number:
OPEN THE DOOR
No attribution. No signature.
Eella’s pulse thundered.
Not his.
Not hers.
But someone else’s.
Someone still in this hell.
The morning crept in like a thief, and Eella awoke tangled in sweat-damp sheets, Garrison’s body heat branding her from behind. His arm was slung low across her waist, possessive even in sleep, and the weight of his breath against her neck reminded her of everything they’d done—twice, maybe three times, she’d lost count when her body stopped obeying reason.
She shifted carefully, but his grip tightened, a low growl stirring from his chest.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he muttered, voice rough from sleep and sex. “I’m not done with you.”
She inhaled sharply. “I wasn’t trying to leave.”
“Liar.”
His hand drifted lower, between her thighs, fingers pressing into the tender proof of the night they’d shared. She gasped.
“You’re sore.” His voice dropped to something darker. “I like that.”
He rolled her onto her back, settling between her legs with the practiced ease of a man who knew exactly how to destroy. And rebuild.
“I should go—work—” she started, half-hearted, but he silenced her with his mouth. There was no foreplay now. Just hunger. Unapologetic, raw. He made her feel like prey and worshipped all at once.
His teeth grazed her collarbone. “You go to work when I tell you to.”
“Excuse me?” Her breath hitched.
He slid inside her in one long stroke that stole the words from her throat. Her back arched instinctively, mouth parting in a cry she didn’t have time to suppress. He fucked her with quiet fury, control laced with obsession.
“You think last night changed anything?” he murmured, fingers locking around her wrists and pinning them above her head. “You belong to me now.”
Her body betrayed her with every clench, every whimper. She hated how much she wanted to believe him.
“Say it,” he hissed. “Say you’re mine.”
“No,” she breathed.
He slammed deeper.
“No.”
Again.
“No—”
Her scream broke on a sob of surrender as climax overtook her, fierce and shattering.
And still, he didn’t stop.
By the time they lay breathless and soaked in sweat, Eella was too stunned to move. Her skin tingled. Her body hummed with sore satisfaction.
Garrison finally released her hands. “You disobeyed me,” he said quietly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But I’ll allow it—for now.”
She laughed bitterly. “You’re insane.”
He smiled. “You have no idea.”
Eella woke to the weight of his arm across her ribs—Garrison’s scent lingering in the sheets. The early morning sun glowed faintly through the curtains, but inside this room, light felt optional. Every inch of her body pulsed from last night—the relentless thrust, the grit of his teeth at her throat, the way he’d claimed her as if carving her flesh with each kiss.
She inhaled, throat tight with tension or lust—it was impossible to tell which.
He stirred, opening one eye, and that glance was enough to melt her resolve. His grin was predatory yet tender, edged with mischief. He leaned down and kissed her, slow and hungry, as if reconfirming ownership.
“Morning, my sin,” he murmured.
“Morning, my prison,” she breathed back, and for a moment, it was a declaration of love instead of defiance.
⸻
1. Power Play at Dawn
She tried to leave—gently, carefully—but he pulled her back.
“No,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You stay.”
“Work,” she protested softly. “You know what we have.”
He smiled against her skin. “Yes. And I don’t want you scarring yourself before breakfast.”
She sat up enough to look at him. His eyes were unreadable.
“I’m yours,” she whispered.
He sighed, soft and hollow. “Is that why you smile at the intern?”
Her laugh was harsh. “Leave me alone.”
But his fingers trailed down her ribcage, pressing again against her heat. “Every smile that isn’t mine makes me want to tear you apart.”
The intensity of that sentence spoke of how deep they’d fallen. And how dangerous it all was.
⸻
2. The Smear Campaign
By late morning, the boardroom was a war zone. Garrison’s rivals—led by Victor Maddox—had launched a calculated smear campaign. Leaked rumors tied Garrison to Darcie’s “departure.” Subtle innuendo about his generosity with female assistants—and Eella at his side as the new favorite target.
Eella could feel the room’s hostility as she entered, her heels echoing off marble floors. She dared a glance at Garrison, closed his laptop, and stood.
“No,” he said firmly—and she realized, for a moment, she had forgotten why she walked into the storm with him.
She strode forward, voice firm. “If anyone here is suggesting impropriety, open your mouths now.”
The board members shifted uncomfortably. No one spoke.
He slid his chair back and stood beside her, smooth and strong. “Let’s keep the focus on business.”
Instantly, attention snapped back to the slideshow behind him. The campaign numbers. The merges. The projections.
She swallowed the surge of triumph over her doubts—as long as they appeared united.
⸻
3. Eella’s Counterattack
Later that day, alone with Ollie, Eella rifled through data. She found buried assistant evaluations, HR memos revealing Darcie had objected to ‘unorthodox’ management meetings—never filed any complaint, but heavily implied pressure.
She emailed the file to Victor official with CC to the entire board. Subject: “Clarification on Management Conduct.”
In minutes, feedback poured in from shocked execs. Victor’s face paled at the next board meeting.
Garrison’s eyes found Eella’s across the table. He said nothing, but his gratitude was scorching.
⸻
4. Boardroom Showdown
That night, the boardroom transformed into their stage. Garrison and Eella faced the same rivals in full view.
Garrison stood, pinning Victor in a glare. “If this is about me and my assistant,” he said curtly, “then you’ve lost.”
Ella stepped forward, voice even. “If this is about protecting the company, then let me remind you all: we uncovered hidden liabilities and brought them to light. No woman was harmed here—only empowered.”
Gasps. Murmurs.
Victor’s face twisted. “We just want disclosure.”
She smiled coldly. “You have it now.”
He faltered. She held his gaze—and for the first time, Garrison nodded at her.
They won.
⸻
5. Erotic Reprisal
Afterward, in the executive suite, they let the tension unwind.
He traced her jaw. “You made them back down.”
She dipped under his hand. “Let me reward you.”
He didn’t say a word. He pulled her into the darkened bedroom—no mirrors, no interruptions—just their shared heartbeat.
His body moved over hers with familiar urgency. She returned every thrust, every brush of skin, every low moan. When he kissed her raw, she answered with desperation and need. No dominance. No games. Just pure connection.
They crashed together again, breathless. This time, it wasn’t flames. It was the steady glow of two broken people holding on to each other.
⸻
6. Darcie’s Clue
In the quiet that followed, Eella found his private safe unlocked. She slipped inside and found an unassuming ledger—dates and codes. One line caught her breath:
10/10: Olivia Vale—FULL FILE. DO NOT DESTROY.
Full file.
She realized Olivia Vale was Darcie’s name.
On impulse, she took a photo with her phone. He caught the flash of intent.
He came up behind her. “It’ll tell you. But it could kill you.”
She turned to him. “Let me choose.”
He nodded. “Tomorrow. Meet me.”
⸻
7. Cliffhanger
That night, her phone buzzed.
A text from an unregistered number:
OPEN THE DOOR
No attribution. No signature.
Eella’s pulse thundered.
Not his.
Not hers.
But someone else’s.
Someone still in this hell.
End of His Private Hell Chapter 53. Continue reading Chapter 54 or return to His Private Hell book page.