Ella didn't sleep.
She spent the night watching her phone explode—notifications, mentions, tags. Hundreds. Thousands.
Her face was everywhere.
"Mystery Woman Captures Billionaire's Heart.""Who Is Ella Montgomery?""Blackwood's New Romance: Secretary Turned Girlfriend.""From Nobody to Somebody: Cinderella Story or Gold Digger?"
The photos were relentless.Alexander's hand on her waist. His lips brushing her ear.The way he'd held her during the dance—possessive, intimate.
They looked like a couple.A real couple.
But it was all a lie.Wasn't it?
By 7:30 a.m., Ella forced herself out of bed.She had to face it.Had to go to work.Had to see him.
Her phone buzzed—a text from Alexander.
Don't read the comments. They're vicious. See you at 8. – A.
Too late.She'd already read them all.
"She's using him for money.""Cheap face, obvious gold digger.""He could do better.""She looks like a nobody. What does he even see in her?"
Every word was a knife.
The moment she stepped into the building, she knew.
The whispers hit instantly.
"That's her.""The girlfriend.""A secretary? Seriously?""She must be good at… other things."
Laughter. Sharp and cruel.
Ella kept her chin up, her heels clicking against marble as she walked to the elevator.Pressed the button for the top floor.
Three women entered after her—young, polished, designer everything.They stared. Whispered.
"Heard she seduced him.""Slept her way up.""Literally.""Pathetic."
Her jaw clenched.Don't react. Don't give them the satisfaction.
The elevator dinged.Top floor.
She stepped out—straight into more stares.More whispers.
Her desk felt like a spotlight, every eye tracking her.She sat. Tried to work. Tried to breathe.
"Well, well."
Vivian's voice slid over her shoulder, sharp and mocking."The famous girlfriend."
"Good morning," Ella said quietly.
"Is it?" Vivian smirked, arms crossed. "Your face is on every gossip site. People are digging into your background. Your family. Your debts."She leaned closer. "Did you know someone posted your address online?"
Ella froze. "What?"
"Welcome to the spotlight," Vivian said, straightening. "Hope it's worth it. Whatever you're getting from him."
"I'm not getting anything—"
"Please." Vivian laughed. "Everyone knows what this is. You're his latest toy. And when he's bored?"Her smile turned razor-sharp."You'll be thrown away—like all the others."
Click. Click. Her heels echoed as she walked away.
Ella stared at her screen, hands trembling.Her throat burned.This was a nightmare.
By lunch, it was worse.
Someone had printed photos from the gala and pinned them in the break room.Her and Alexander—dancing, laughing, his hand on her bare back.
Someone had drawn over them.Crude words. Ugly sketches.
"GOLD DIGGER" scrawled across her face in red marker.
Ella ripped them down, her vision blurring.
"Touchy," a voice said behind her.
Three men from accounting stood by the counter, smirking.
"It's just a joke," one said.
"It's harassment," she snapped.
"Is it?" another grinned. "Or is it the truth? How much is he paying you to play girlfriend?"
"I'm not—"
"Sure you're not," the third one cut in. "You must be really good in bed. That's the only explanation."
Her hand moved before her brain caught up.The slap cracked through the room like thunder.
Silence.
The man's cheek flamed red. "You bitch—"
"Problem here?"
Alexander's voice. Cold. Deadly.
Every head turned.
He stood in the doorway, flawless in his charcoal suit, ice-blue eyes sharp as blades.
"Mr. Blackwood!" one of the men stammered. "We were just—"
"Just what?" Alexander stepped inside, his tone lethal calm. "Harassing my girlfriend? On company time? In my building?"
"It was just a joke—"
"You're fired."
The words were flat. Absolute.
All three men froze.
"You can't—"
"I can." His voice dropped lower. "And I did. Security will escort you out."
No one argued after that.
They stumbled out.The break room emptied fast.No one wanted to be next.
Ella stood there, heart hammering.
"You didn't have to do that," she said quietly.
"Yes," Alexander replied. "I did."
He stepped closer, his voice softening. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
"Liar." His fingers brushed her cheek. "You've been crying."
"I haven't—"
"Your eyes are red." His thumb traced beneath them. "What happened?"
"Nothing. Everything." She pulled back. "This was a mistake. The photos. The announcement."
"It was necessary."
"For you! Not for me!" Her voice cracked. "Do you even know what they're saying? What they're calling me?"
"I can guess."
"Then why?" Her hands trembled. "Why did you do it? Why claim me in front of everyone?"
His jaw tightened. "I had my reasons."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting." His tone dropped back to command. "Get back to work."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Work."
He turned. Walked away.Left her standing there—angry, hurt, confused.
By three o'clock, she'd made up her mind.
She couldn't stay.Not like this.
The gossip. The harassment. The way he looked at her like she belonged to him—it was too much.
She opened a blank document. Typed fast.
RESIGNATION LETTER
Dear Mr. Blackwood,I resign from my position as your secretary, effective immediately.I understand this may breach contract, but I'm willing to accept the consequences.I cannot continue working in this environment.Thank you for the opportunity.
Ella Montgomery
She printed it, signed it, sealed it in an envelope.
And marched to his office.
The glass doors were closed.He was pacing inside, phone pressed to his ear, face hard.
Ella knocked.
He looked up. Gestured for her to enter.
She stepped in, placed the envelope on his desk.
He glanced at it mid-conversation, eyes narrowing.
Ella turned to leave.
"Hold on," he said into the phone, then to her, "Stop."
She froze.
He hung up.Opened the envelope. Read.
His expression turned to ice.
"No."
She blinked. "No?"
"I don't accept your resignation."
"You don't have a choice—"
"I have every choice."
He stood, rounding the desk, his presence filling the room.
"You signed a contract. Eighteen months. You're not leaving."
"I can't stay here. Not after—"
"After what? After I defended you? Protected you?"
"After you humiliated me!" Her voice broke. "You made me a target, Alexander! They all hate me now. They think I'm using you. Sleeping with you. That I'm some kind of—"
"Gold digger?" His lips twitched. "Let them think it."
"Easy for you to say! You're not the one being harassed!"
"No. But I'm the one who fired three men for it."He took another step. "You think I don't know what they're saying? What they're doing?"
"Then let me go."
"No."
His hand caught her wrist. Firm. Unyielding.
"You're not running away."
"Let go of me—"
"Not until you listen." His eyes blazed. "You're mine now. Publicly. Officially. That means I protect you. Whether you want it or not."
"I never asked for your protection."
"You got it anyway." His grip tightened. "You're not resigning. You're staying right here. Where I can see you."
"You can't keep me prisoner—"
"Can't I?" His voice dropped, dangerous. "You owe me $847,000. Plus interest. You want to leave? Pay me back. Right now."
Her breath hitched. "That's not fair—"
"Life's not fair."
He stepped closer, caging her against the desk.
"You think you can quit without my permission?" he said. "Without consequences?"
"I don't need your permission—"
"Yes, you do." His hands braced on either side of her. "Section twenty-three. Resignation requires board approval—my approval."
"That's insane."
"That's business."
His face was inches from hers. His voice was heat and steel. "You're not leaving me, Ella."
"This isn't about leaving you—"
"Isn't it?" His eyes locked onto hers. "You're scared. Of them. Of me. Of whatever this is between us."
"There's nothing between us."
"Liar."
He cupped her jaw, his voice rough, raw. "You feel it. The pull. The obsession."
"I can't stop thinking about you," he said, low. "Can't stop wanting you near me. It's driving me insane."
Ella's pulse thundered. "Alexander—"
"Tell me you don't feel it." His thumb brushed her lips. "Tell me you don't think about me. About last night. About my hands on your skin."
She couldn't.Because it would be a lie.
"That's what I thought."
His smile turned victorious.
"You're staying," he said softly. "And you're going to keep playing my girlfriend. In public. And in private."
Her heart lurched. "In private?"
"Starting now."
His hand slid into her hair—gentle, possessive. "I'm going to kiss you. And you're going to let me."
"No—"
But his lips were already on hers.
Soft at first. Then harder. Demanding.
Ella gasped, and he deepened the kiss—claiming, devouring.
She should push him away.She didn't.
Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer.
He groaned—a low, desperate sound that melted her resolve.
His hand gripped her waist. Lifted her onto the desk.Papers scattered. Neither of them cared.
The kiss was wildfire.Consuming. Dangerous.
When he finally pulled away, both of them were shaking.
"You're mine," he whispered against her lips. "Say it."
"No—"
His hand tangled in her hair. "Say it."
"I'm not—"
"Say. It." His eyes were fever-bright. "Or I'll keep kissing you until you do."
Ella stared at him—his beautiful, terrible face.
"I hate you," she whispered.
"I know." His smile was dark, satisfied. "But you're still mine."
He kissed her again—harder, deeper—and God help her, Ella kissed him back.