The Devil's Embrace

sm

ss that fit snugly against my body, highlighting my curves in a way that felt both professional a

ng loomed ahead, all glass and steel, intimidating in its grandeur. The car pul

eptionist to show you to Mr. Kn

e exterior, with high ceilings and a sleek modern design. The receptionist, a polite woman with a practiced smile, led me to the elev

e receptionist knocked on a large wooden

a deep, husky voice

ffice. He was seated behind a massive mahogany desk, his postu

te," I said, tryin

d. "It's Mr. Knight when we're at the office,"

night," I repeated,

king as my personal assistant. That means everything I need, everywhere I go, and wh

ching at my sides. "Yes, M

e," he demanded, his vo

tand," I said again, this

lars a month. Follow my instructions precisely, and we won't h

I settled into the desk just outside his office. I dove into the tasks he assigned me, managing his schedule, taking calls, and ensur

te'

her body in all the right places, emphasizing her curves and matching her deep brown eyes. F

asmine, use your words," I said, my voice sharper than intended. The way she said "Yes, Mr. Knight" in that sweet, s

managed my appointments, took notes during meetings, and handled the smallest details wit

er. Their eyes lingered on her too long, their gazes hungry. I felt my jaw tighten and my fists

ere, Mr. Knight," one of the men rem

m for interpretation. "Focus on your own business," I said

nd Jasmine packing her th

going?" I asked

ven. What else is there to do? I've compl

crossing my arms. "You're done w

back at her desk. "Okay, Mr. Knight," she muttered, her eye

te her clear irritation. She wasn't like anyone else who had worked

ed through her frustration and focused on the task at hand only made me want her more