Elena's eyes fluttered open to a blinding white ceiling she didn't recognize. Her head throbbed viciously, each pulse like a hammer strike from the night she barely remembered. She groaned softly and instinctively turned to her side only to realize the surface beneath her was far softer than her usual bed. The sheets smelled different too… fresh, expensive, not like her cheap lavender detergent.
Confusion shot through her like icy water.
Where… am I?
She pushed herself up too quickly. The world spun, and she clutched her pounding temples. Her sight steadied, and panic slid into her chest like a heavy weight. The room was enormous, stylish, nothing like her tiny apartment. A large city-view window stretched from floor to ceiling, sunlight pouring in like golden honey.
This was luxury.
This was not her life.
She scrambled out of bed...legs wobbling and realized with relief that she was still fully dressed from the night before. Her long coat was intact, buttoned up. Thank God. At least that meant nothing strange had happened. Or… at least she hoped.
The memories were in pieces. The bar. Gabrielle arrived. Drinks. More drinks. The car ride… and then…
Nothing.
Her stomach twisted with dread.
She rushed out of the room, heels clicking loudly against polished marble flooring as she tried not to freak out. The corridor opened to a vast living space, furnished in black and silver. A sweeping staircase curved gracefully downward.
Elena's pulse quickened.
She was still trying to make sense of her surroundings when she heard footsteps. Calm, Confident. Approaching like someone who owned the world.
And then she saw him.
Gabrielle Carter.
Her boss.
Standing near the bottom of the staircase, sharp as a blade in a flawlessly tailored suit. Hair slicked back. One hand casually tucked in his pocket as if this morning was just another day and his secretary waking up in his mansion was perfectly normal.
His lips curved into a slow, teasing smirk the moment his eyes met her horrified ones.
"Well, well," he drawled, voice smooth as velvet. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."
Elena gripped the banister like her life depended on it.
"W–what am I doing here?" she demanded, though her voice betrayed her panic with a slight tremble.
Gabrielle shrugged lightly, strolling closer, eyes never leaving hers.
"I drove you home," he said simply. "Except… you gave me the wrong address."
He paused at the foot of the staircase, crossing his arms, studying her as if she were the most amusing thing he'd seen in years.
"You kept screaming my name in the car," he added casually. "Begging me to kiss you."
Elena's jaw dropped.
Her face was drained of color.
"No. No—I didn't!" she blurted out, shaking her head violently. "You're lying!"
"Oh?" He raised a brow, obviously enjoying every flicker of embarrassment racing across her face. "So you also didn't cling to me like a lost kitten? Calling me 'Gabby baby'?"
She gasped, mortified.
Her horror seemed to fuel his playful cruelty. Gabrielle leaned slightly forward, voice lowering, eyes gleaming with wicked humor.
"And that part where you begged me not to let you go…"
He clicked his tongue.
"Very dramatic, Miss Elena."
Her stomach plummeted straight to the floor. She wanted to deny it again, but the fuzzy gaps in her memory made her heart clench in uncertainty. What if she really had done something humiliating?
She squeezed her eyes shut. "Please… just stop."
Gabrielle chuckled under his breath, clearly far too entertained.
Then his tone suddenly shifted too soft, too calm:
"You're safe here."
A brief pause.
"I wouldn't let anything happen to you."
Elena opened her eyes again, startled by the seriousness in his voice. For a moment, they simply stared at each other….her embarrassment melting into confusion… and his amusement fading into something unreadable.
The air thickened.
Her breathing grew shallow.
She hated how his eyes always made her feel exposed.
Gabrielle slipped on his wristwatch, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. Businesslike again. Controlled. As if he hadn't just turned her world upside down in less than a minute.
"I'm heading to the office," he said. "You'll come with me when you're ready."
"I—I need to go home," she whispered.
He tilted his head, gaze sharpening.
"And show up late to work on a Monday?"
Her mouth snapped shut.
Trapped.
He gave her one last smirk before turning toward the main hallway, his voice deep and smooth:
"Hurry up, Miss Elena. I don't like being kept waiting."
And with that, he walked away leaving her frozen on the stairs, cheeks burning with humiliation, heart pounding uncontrollably, and a terrifying new question spinning in her mind:
Just what exactly happened last night…?