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Woke Up In The Captain's Bed

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 934    |    Released on: Today at 19:04

i P

in my arms as I marched down the rubber-matt

steel elevator doors and

akable, steady rhythm that set my nerves on fire. The scent of winter

rt was standing less

arply it accentuated every inch of his broad, athletic frame. His dark hair w

d speak, the elevator ar

ked inside. Two junior marketing coordinators, a corporate accountant

ushing forward. I was shoved straight into the crowded elevator cab, losing my balance. My po

d corner. I looked up, my face burning, only to meet Kurt's icy blue eyes. A fai

rs, completely oblivious to the fact that the billionaire owner of the fr

ld me from the crush of bodies, maintaining a subtle, highly

levator began its climb to

cating, broken only b

ering in a tone that was supposed to be quiet but

d. "You know how he never lets a woman within ten feet of him?

giggled. "Yeah, he'

his Escalade parked outside the Duran Hotel at da

knuckles turned white. My heart was pounding so har

er voice dripping with venom. "I heard from security that she practically rode him in the back

ugh the floorboards. I shot a panicked, flustered glare ov

clearly enjoying this. With agonizing slowness, he raised his left hand to his throat. His lon

If anyone in front of us simply turned their head, they would imm

screaming at him to stop. Kurt's lips simply curved into a faint smile, thorou

adjusting her matcha cup with a sniff, emboldened by the gossip. "Probably

oor. The urge to shove my portfolio

was dead calm, dropping the temp

hipping their heads around to find the apex pre

nt department t

just stared at the digital f

e to spew vile, baseless gossip in my elevato

second. She choked on her breath, clutching her cup so hard the plasti

ed at the floor as if th

he was just a ruthless boss defending his own privacy, but I knew t

ared to

loudly. Floor 12.

terrified silence inside the cab linger

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Woke Up In The Captain's Bed
Woke Up In The Captain's Bed
“I was just an underpaid junior designer trying to survive the ruthless world of professional hockey. But after catching my boyfriend with his hands up my best friend's designer skirt in a filthy alley, I got blackout drunk and stumbled into the wrong armored SUV. I woke up pinned beneath Kurt Duran-the terrifying, untouchable captain of the New York franchise and the absolute ruler of the sports empire that paid my salary. Terrified of being branded a desperate gold-digger, I ran. I swallowed a Plan B pill, dumped my cheating ex, and worked myself to the bone to earn the prestigious Milan Design Summit nomination. But my jealous coworkers couldn't stand a nobody winning. They hacked my terminal and planted stolen competitor files on my workstation, framing me for federal corporate espionage. My director suspended me on the spot. Security guards began sweeping my life's work into a plastic evidence bin, while my colleagues sneered that I was heading straight to a federal penitentiary. I clenched my bleeding palms, suffocating under the sheer injustice. I had survived poverty, a cheating ex, and grueling sleepless nights just to prove my worth. Why was my entire career being destroyed over a manufactured lie? "Hand over your badge and your digital keys," my director barked. I refused to shed a single tear for those hyenas. Suddenly, the frosted glass doors were kicked open with a thunderous crash. Kurt Duran strode into the room flanked by five elite litigation partners, his murderous blue eyes locked directly on me, ready to burn the entire building to the ground.”