Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 42185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“You don’t know?” He raises an eyebrow. “Guess you’ll find out.”
Sure enough, I barely notice them. For nearly two months they’re working every day, although I only see them as I leave in the morning and sometimes I glimpse them when I’m coming home. They never speak to me, and Mason refuses to tell me what’s going on.
After two months, I come home to find that the old hallway I was using to get upstairs, cut off from the rest of the house by some temporary walls, is completely gone.
Replaced by a brand new, beautiful townhouse.
“What did you do?” I glare at Mason the next day.
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s amazing, but come on. It’s absurd.”
He grins at me. “I bet you never imagined getting an entire house as a surprise, especially not while living in it.”
“I could’ve peeked at any time, you know.”
“I know. But I knew you wouldn’t, because I told you not to.”
I grumble but he’s right. “What about my old apartment?”
“That’ll be converted into your new art studio. I hear the light up there is wonderful.”
“The… the whole thing?”
He grins. “The whole thing.”
It takes another week. By the end, the house is complete. Three bedrooms, a big living room, a big, beautiful kitchen, and an enormous art studio.
It’s my house. Mason even puts it in my name. I pay him a dollar for it. Well, really, I pay him by letting him spank me and fuck me, but that’s not really legal.
Mason seems happy. I don’t think I can explain it any other way. He’s always smiling, grinning really, and he’s constantly touching my body. It’s like he’s a new man, totally different from the man I met when I first started at this job.
I love it. I love the new Mason so much it actually hurts a little bit.
But I’m noticing other things, too. Declan isn’t around much, and Mason is spending more time working. He says he’s getting reacquainted with the company, and he doesn’t like what he’s seeing.
“What’s wrong with it?” I ask him one day, lounging on his couch in just my underwear.
He glowers at his computer screen. “Holes,” he says. “Little holes everywhere.”
“That’s probably not good.”
“Not at all. There’s money missing.”
“Do you know who’s taking it?”
He glances at me and back to his screen. “I have guesses. Go get dressed, I need to finish up here.”
I hesitate before following his orders. I can tell he’s stressed about what’s happening, and I don’t want to push him.
Things are really good for another month. Day in and day out, he treats me like a princess while at the same time treating me like his prisoner. It’s sexy and exciting and every day is a new feeling.
Things are good. Incredibly good. I’m comfortable, satisfied, happy. I’m even painting again, almost every day after work. I feel so inspired that I have multiple works going on at one time.
Everything is right. At least until one Monday morning, I show up at the office, swipe my ID card like always, and nothing happens.
Normally, the door beeps and unlocks for me. I come in through a side entrance, a special little door reserved for people heading up to Mason’s office, but this time nothing happens.
Which is odd. That’s never happened before. I figure it’s just a glitch, and head right to the front lobby.
I walk inside and approach security. Right away, I know something’s wrong. The guy sitting behind the desk glances at his partner and says something as I approach, and both men sit up straight.
“Can I help you?” he asks me.
“Ah, yes, hi. My name is Hazel Cook and my ID badge isn’t working properly.”
He doesn’t look surprised. “I’m afraid I can’t help with that.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’m Mr. Ward’s personal assistant. I’m sure you can figure something out.” I place my card on the desk, giving him a look.
He glances at his partner, who picks up the phone. I can’t hear what he says, but his expression is slightly pained.
“Please wait here,” the guard says, staring at me. “It’ll just be a moment.”
“What am I waiting for, exactly?” I ask him. “What’s going on?”
“Please, miss, just stay right there.”
I stare at the guy but I don’t make a scene. I don’t understand what’s happening here, but clearly there’s some kind of mistake.
I have a bad feeling, though. It’s creeping down my spine and I want to get out of this crowded lobby. People are filing in past the security gates, swiping their badges like they’re at a subway station. I don’t know any of these people, even though we’ve been working in the same company and in the same building for months now.
I realize that the only people who know I exist here are Mason, Rogers, and Declan.
I’ve literally never seen anyone else. This guards have no clue who I am and I bet hearing someone say they’re the personal assistant to Mr. Ward himself is probably totally insane. They probably think I’m some kind of crazy person.