Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays - Chapter 22: Chapter 22

Alexander's fingers dug into my flesh like steel traps. "Ah!" I yelped, the pain sharp enough to make my eyes water. "You're hurting me!"
"Good." His voice was ice. "Now take it out."
I swallowed hard. Just an employee—that's all I was to him. But what choice did I have? This scandal would roll off his back like rainwater, while my career would be left in ruins.
Biting back bitter resentment, I reached into his briefs and pulled out his thick erection. The moment it sprang free, he leaned in, pressing the swollen head against my mouth.
The musky scent of him flooded my senses—pure testosterone and power. My stomach turned even as my lips parted involuntarily.
That smirk of his made my skin crawl. Just as he started pushing forward, three sharp raps at the door froze us both.
I jerked back like I'd been burned, frantically smoothing my skirt as I stood. Alexander shoved himself back into his slacks with practiced ease, zipping up before waving a bored hand from his leather throne.
"Come in," I managed, voice barely steady.
The door swung open to reveal Isabella balancing a tower of files. Formerly Daniel's secretary, she'd inherited his workload after his... incident. She should've gotten his office too, but here she was—still fetching coffee like an intern. Always struck me as odd.
Her step faltered when she spotted Alexander, but she recovered fast, plastering on that professional smile. "Victoria, these need your review—Daniel's backlog." She extended the files like a peace offering.
I grabbed them like a lifeline. "Thank you." Turning to Alexander, I channeled every ounce of fake professionalism I had. "Duty calls."
He shot Isabella a look that could curdle milk before rising with a dramatic sigh. "Fine. But this isn't over." The door rattled in its frame when he slammed it behind him.
I pretended to study the documents, but Isabella didn't leave. When I glanced up, she was watching me with this... knowing look that made my palms sweat.
"Something else?" I asked, too sharply.
She leaned across my desk, voice dropping to a whisper. "Victoria... you and Alexander. Have you two already—?"
My heart jackhammered against my ribs. "How could you possibly—unless you've—"
"God, no." She recoiled like I'd offered her poison. "Some of us have self-respect."
The barb hit its mark. Here I sat in my manager's chair, yet I suddenly felt smaller than the intern who fetched our lattes.
Isabella's expression softened. "Look, I get it. We do what we have to in this shark tank." She reached out, almost touching my arm. "Let's hit the spa tonight. You look like you could use a massage and mojitos."
The kindness in her voice was worse than the judgment. Because she wasn't wrong—I was drowning. And the worst part? I'd probably say yes to those mojitos.