Everything in my world comes to a screeching halt as my brain forms a new connection, one that's flooded with intense emotions-happiness, anger, sadness, loss, and confusion.

I make an attempt to conceal my shock, hastily closing my agape mouth and getting up to leave. But it's no use because he sees it. A small, knowing smile begins to creep across his lips.

"Come on, love," he says with a tone of both reassurance and challenge. "You know there's no point in running away."

I reject all the thoughts I had about needing this job. There are countless other companies I can work for. If none of them considers me worthy, I'll find an alternative, even if it means exploring unconventional options like becoming a prostitute or putting myself up for sale on a website. It's not a path I desire, but I'll do whatever it takes to avoid being tethered to him again.

I stifle a laugh, my resolve unwavering. "There are plenty of other companies out there."

He rises from his seat, his movements deliberate as he advances towards me. A dangerous smile plays on his lips, sending a shiver down my spine. It's the kind of smile that injects fear and worry deep into my gut. "That's where you're mistaken," he says in a tone that sends a chill down my spine. "I have eyes everywhere, and I believe you're already aware of that."

'Actually, I didn't know that,' I want to respond, but I keep the words locked inside.

He leans in closer, his lips tantalizingly close to my ear. A soft caress sends a shiver down my spine and nearly elicits a moan. Oh, how I've missed this kind of contact.

"Don't let your seat go cold," he whispers, his warm breath sending a wave of nostalgia flooding through me. "Be a good girl for me. You remember the rewards, don't you? How good it used to be when you were a good girl for me?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, battling against the rush of memories he's trying to trigger. A man like him only does this to resurrect dusty old recollections, and I can't allow him to get to me. I just can't.

He returns to his seat, calmly waiting for me with one leg crossed over the other. His unbuttoned shirt reveals his well-toned chest even more prominently than before. Damn, did he always look this good when we were together?

Reluctantly, I make my way back to the chair. There's no escaping him; he won't leave me alone. And why leave and make the game more intriguing for him? I know he's tenacious when it comes to getting what he wants, and he'll go to great lengths to achieve it. Sociopath or psychopath, one of those terms definitely suits someone like him.

"Alright, let's get started then," he says, pulling out a white paper and handing it to me. Without breaking eye contact, I accept the paper from him.

I glance at the title, and it reads, 'Has to be signed, no indecisiveness whatsoever.'

I look at him, then back at the paper, reading the first few sentences that I've already skimmed. This can't be right. But when I look at him, he only smiles. This isn't something to smile about. I'm married. Wait... Engaged?

I'm not fucking sure right now! However, what I know for sure is that I'm not going to sign my life over to him for six months!

He hands me a pen and speaks with a predatory smile, "You have two options here, darling. Either you sign this contract, or you become mine forever. Actually, let me rephrase that. You don't have an option; you were mine to begin with."

I swiftly turn my head back in his direction, my eyes piercing through his. If looks could kill, he would be reduced to sand and bones in his grave by now.

"Yours?..." I burst into hysterical laughter, as though my brain cells were rapidly evaporating. "You and I will never happen again. Besides, I have a fiancé."

He intensifies the eye contact, attempting to process what I just said. After a brief pause, he gets up from his chair and slowly walks toward me. "Don't worry about him. He can always watch while I fuck you like your life depends on it."

One thing is replaying in my mind now; 'I'm fucked.'

I attempt again to walk away from this bizarre situation. Keyword: "attempt." Unfortunately, it appears that I've forgotten just how fast this guy can be. His arm snakes around my lower waist and slams me against the door before I even have a chance to unlock it.

"I promised myself that I wouldn't let you get to me," he says, his eyes travelling from my eyes to my heavily rising and falling chest.

My eyes inadvertently shift to his lips. Slowly, I stand on my tiptoes.

"Fuck it." His lips are pressed firmly against mine, fitting together perfectly like a lock and key. I feel like I'm drowning, and his lips are my lifeline, providing the oxygen I need. He sucks on my lips, detaches them for a brief moment, then tilts his head slightly before capturing them again.

The pace of the kiss quickens.

His tongue enters my mouth, exploring and teasing, eliciting a loud moan from deep within me. I tangle both of my hands in his hair, pulling his head closer, desperate for more of him (yes, I'm aware of how selfish that makes me sound).

He's always been an exceptional kisser, a true expert with his tongue, especially when it comes to me. His teeth nip at my bottom lip, causing even more of my arousal to soak into my panties.

Then he elevates my right leg and I wrap it around his waist in the process. Shit, I'm wearing a fucking skirt, which means the bottom part of my body is only left in my light purple laced underwear.

His fingers start trailing up on my inner thigh before suddenly slipping into my panties. That is what triggers my non-smart brain, making me realize what is going on.

I summon all my strength and push him away, creating some distance between us. Then, in a surprising turn of events, I do something completely unexpected.

My heart races as my hand moves with determination, striking his face forcefully.

His expression shifts, showing a mix of hurt, pain, and regret.

But despite the emotions I witnessed on his face, I don't feel any regret for my actions. I've wanted to do that for a long time, for various reasons that are my own secrets to keep, and I leave him behind without a backward glance.