Chapter 1
Marlene Fawcett had been both Kenyon Burt’s secretary and his lover for five years.
In bed, he was tender, almost addictive.
Outside of it, he turned cold again–the untouchable CEO, while she played the obedient employee.
On her twenty–eighth birthday, she finally broke.
She placed her resignation letter on his desk.
Kenyon sat in his sleek office, his rolled sleeves revealing lean muscle, a platinum watch catching the light.
“At three this afternoon, the Los Angeles project will be finalized. Double–check the guest list for tonight’s banquet. Tomorrow at seven sharp, I’m flying out for the ribbon–cutting. Make sure my charcoal suit is pressed and ready, and send the black tie to the dry cleaner’s. Remember, it needs to be back by eight tonight.”
“Mr. Burt,” Marlene cut in, her voice steady but resolute, “I’m resigning.”
Kenyon’s eyes flicked up from his computer screen, locking onto hers for the first time that day.
“Why?” Kenyon asked, his slender fingers tapping the desk with a crisp, authoritative rhythm.
Marlene took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his piercing gaze.
“Mr. Burt, my family has found a date for me.”
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Kenyon let out a dismissive chuckle, as if she’d just told a bad joke.
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“Marlene, come on. I told you from the start–we’re in a no–strings- attached relationship. If you want to walk away, fine. But don’t cook up such a… flimsy excuse.
“You’ll get a raise next month. Drop this nonsense.”
As she stepped out of his office, her phone buzzed. It was her mother, Caleigh Fawcett.
“Marli, how’s the resignation going? Get it done and come home. Your aunt’s setting you up with a nice guy. That man’s a doctor. He had a steady job and good prospects.”
Marlene didn’t respond right away. Her gaze drifted back toward Kenyon’s office door.
On the other end of the line, Caleigh seemed to sense her daughter’s hesitation.
“Marli, listen to me. You and your boss live in different worlds. The sooner you cut ties, the better. Don’t keep clinging to something that’s going nowhere.”
Marlene’s chest tightened, a lump rising in her throat as her eyes stung with unshed tears.
“I know, Mom,” she whispered before hanging up.
The very next second, Kenyon emerged from his office. His tailored suit hugged his tall, lean frame, and the casually undone collar added a languid charm to him. His gaze landed on Marlene.
“Get ready. We’re meeting Mr. Lambert for dinner at five.”
In the car, Kenyon noticed Marlene’s subdued mood and instantly
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connected it to their earlier talk.
“Your family’s pressuring you to settle down?” he asked.
Fidgeting with her fingers, Marlene gave a small, stiff nod.
Kenyon chuckled. “That’s an easy fix. Just get a guy to act like your boyfriend for your parents. They’ll back off in no time.”
His eyes were striking–charming, but with a certain merciless detachment.
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Staring at his eyes, Marlene hesitated, then ventured, “Mr. Burt… would you mind helping me with that?”
Kenyon went quiet for a few seconds before letting out a chuckle.
“Marlene, don’t be ridiculous.”
The car pulled up to the restaurant, and the anticipation on Marlene’s face faded.
She put on her flawless, professional smile and said, “Just a joke, Mr. Burt. Sorry. Don’t take it to heart.”
Then she stepped out of the car and walked in, her high heels clicking sharply against the pavement with each deliberate, crisp step.
Inside the private room, the drinks flowed freely, round after round.
As the perfect secretary, Marlene masterfully took most of the drinks meant for Kenyon. Even with her impressive tolerance, the room started to blur at the edges.
Then, a clammy, heavy hand slid onto her thigh under the table.
“Well, well,” slurred Dewey Lambert, his voice dripping with sleaze.
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“Mr. Burt’s got himself a real stunner. You’re a lucky man.
Marlene’s expression didn’t waver. She shifted her leg, away from his grasp, her eyes darting toward Kenyon for help.
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But Kenyon remained unfazed, a faint smile on his lips, the earring on his right ear sparkling under the chandelier.
“Mr. Lambert,” he said, standing up, “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom. Enjoy yourself.”
The door clicked shut behind him, and Dewey immediately shoved himself against Marlene, roughly pulling at her blouse.
“God, you’re gorgeous. I’ve been dying to be with you,” he muttered.
“I’ve been asking Kenyon for you multiple times, but he kept saying no. This time, I paid big. I gave him a prime lot on the south side of the city just to get you.”
Marlene fought back. Then she caught a glimpse of the silhouette lingering in the doorway through the crack.
A bitter realization hit her, sharp and cold.
“Kenyon, help me!” she cried.
But her voice was quickly muffled as Dewey’s hand clamped over her mouth.
“Don’t kid yourself, Marlene,” he sneered, pinning her down. “Kenyon isn’t going to save you. This whole dinner? It was his idea.
“You’ve been with him for five years, haven’t you? Gotta hand it to him… He’s got a ruthless streak.”
The silhouette at the door shifted, and the door clicked shut, sealing
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Marlene in with her fear.
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Lateefa Khanam is a spirited writer who finds freedom in horse riding. She cherishes her mare and the newborn foal, calling them her little happy family.
