The CEO's Forbidden Fling - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading The CEO's Forbidden Fling, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of The CEO's Forbidden Fling.
Within a week, Vincent Lowell was wrapped around my finger.
His texts grew bolder—flirty at first, then downright explicit. When he suggested booking a hotel room, I hesitated before forwarding the messages to my boss.
"Perfect. He’s hooked," my boss said, adjusting his round glasses. The glint in his eyes wasn’t warmth—it was greed. The kindness he’d once shown me had vanished, leaving a hollow ache in my chest, sharp as a blade.
"You’re seriously okay with me sleeping with him?" My voice cracked. "You don’t care about me at all!"
I hurled my phone across the room, the screen shattering like my composure.
Growing up, I’d been an afterthought—overshadowed by my brother, starved for affection, reduced to nothing but a pretty face men either coveted or resented. Love? A fantasy. Security? A transaction. So I’d learned to weaponize my beauty, trading it for power.
Then came my boss.
The cruelest hell isn’t staying in the dark—it’s being dragged into the light, only to be thrown back by the one who promised to save you.
"Vanessa, I’m sorry." His voice broke as he tore off his glasses, dropping to his knees. A sharp slap echoed as he struck his own face. "I’m desperate. You’re my girl—this kills me. But without this company, I can’t give you the future you deserve. It’s all my fault."
"Stop!" I grabbed his wrist, my stomach twisting at the red mark blooming on his cheek.
"Please," he begged, tears streaking his face. "Do this for me."
No matter how hard I pulled, he stayed on the floor, broken. Defeated, I agreed.
The irony? Vincent picked the same hotel where my boss and I used to meet. Muscle memory carried me inside, key card in hand.
After a scalding shower, I slipped into lingerie and waited, nausea churning. Vincent was everything repulsive—balding, paunchy, his breath reeking of cigars. Just the thought of his hands on me sent me crumpling onto the bed, sobbing.
My tears only thrilled him more.
He was rougher than my boss, leaving me bruised and hollow. Afterward, I scrubbed my skin raw in the shower, then vomited into a trash bin outside, as if I could purge the filth.
The payoff? A promotion—Vincent’s personal assistant.
Within days, I cracked his computer password and stole the new product specs. Victory pulsed through me as I carried the hard drive to my boss’s office, imagining his pride. Maybe now he’d finally claim me in public.
The office was quiet, midday heat lulling coworkers into naps. I crept toward his door, heart racing—
Then froze.
Vincent’s voice slithered through the wood.
"That went smoother than expected. That Vanessa girl? Unbelievable."
My blood turned to ice.
Why was he here?
And what the hell did he mean?
His texts grew bolder—flirty at first, then downright explicit. When he suggested booking a hotel room, I hesitated before forwarding the messages to my boss.
"Perfect. He’s hooked," my boss said, adjusting his round glasses. The glint in his eyes wasn’t warmth—it was greed. The kindness he’d once shown me had vanished, leaving a hollow ache in my chest, sharp as a blade.
"You’re seriously okay with me sleeping with him?" My voice cracked. "You don’t care about me at all!"
I hurled my phone across the room, the screen shattering like my composure.
Growing up, I’d been an afterthought—overshadowed by my brother, starved for affection, reduced to nothing but a pretty face men either coveted or resented. Love? A fantasy. Security? A transaction. So I’d learned to weaponize my beauty, trading it for power.
Then came my boss.
The cruelest hell isn’t staying in the dark—it’s being dragged into the light, only to be thrown back by the one who promised to save you.
"Vanessa, I’m sorry." His voice broke as he tore off his glasses, dropping to his knees. A sharp slap echoed as he struck his own face. "I’m desperate. You’re my girl—this kills me. But without this company, I can’t give you the future you deserve. It’s all my fault."
"Stop!" I grabbed his wrist, my stomach twisting at the red mark blooming on his cheek.
"Please," he begged, tears streaking his face. "Do this for me."
No matter how hard I pulled, he stayed on the floor, broken. Defeated, I agreed.
The irony? Vincent picked the same hotel where my boss and I used to meet. Muscle memory carried me inside, key card in hand.
After a scalding shower, I slipped into lingerie and waited, nausea churning. Vincent was everything repulsive—balding, paunchy, his breath reeking of cigars. Just the thought of his hands on me sent me crumpling onto the bed, sobbing.
My tears only thrilled him more.
He was rougher than my boss, leaving me bruised and hollow. Afterward, I scrubbed my skin raw in the shower, then vomited into a trash bin outside, as if I could purge the filth.
The payoff? A promotion—Vincent’s personal assistant.
Within days, I cracked his computer password and stole the new product specs. Victory pulsed through me as I carried the hard drive to my boss’s office, imagining his pride. Maybe now he’d finally claim me in public.
The office was quiet, midday heat lulling coworkers into naps. I crept toward his door, heart racing—
Then froze.
Vincent’s voice slithered through the wood.
"That went smoother than expected. That Vanessa girl? Unbelievable."
My blood turned to ice.
Why was he here?
And what the hell did he mean?
End of The CEO's Forbidden Fling Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to The CEO's Forbidden Fling book page.