120Days Contract with my rich boss

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ing numbers on my alarm clock, a wave of panic washed over me. "Ahhhh!" I screamed softly, realizing I was

crisp white blouse paired with tailored black trousers. I grabbed my bag and rushed down the hallway. As I pa

ble, where a cup of coffee awaited me

weight of the day ahead press down on me. Just as I was gathering my thoughts to begin p

he announced, her stern expression clarifying

fice, trying my best to project confidence despite the anxiety bubbling within m

desk, the lines of worry etched deep into his brow, a clear indication of the seriousness of the situation. Feeling the weight

me to sit and launch into a scolding tirade, but instead, he remained silent, studying me intently. The air was

f my body. He stood up, gliding toward me with an air of confidence that sent shivers racing down my spine. Each of his delib

tion countdown as I counted his footsteps in my head. I focused on this rhythmic distract

could find. "Mr. Thompson, I apologize for being late. Please forgive me just this once," I plea

t, my apology was far from genuine; my tardiness stemmed from the whirlwind of thoughts that had consumed my mind all night. No, it wasn't just

nd with confusion and excitement, tanglin

n he often displayed whenever he was about to dismiss one of my projects. It

day. You need to show a bit of self-respect!" I declared, my voice steady but laced with emotion. I studied

between us. With deliberate slowness, he extended his hand over my head, and

face. Leaning in just enough for his presence to envelop me, he whispered in a low, sultry tone that felt like honey dripped in warm sunlight, "Your hair co

mpliment like that-especially from my boss, Mr. Thompson? He had always been a source of irritation, a constant thorn in my side

s flutter. Could this be happening? Just yesterday, I had convinced myself that what transpired be

before I could take a step, he reached out and took hold of my hand, his grip firm yet surprisingly ge