My Boss Made Me Sext Her Billionaire Fiancé Chapter 08
Locked In
After that night, Xander still doesn’t forgive Nina. But he starts replying to my texts again. Barely. One-word replies. Enough to keep the deal alive.
I still don’t know if I can pull this off. So I take another gig — cleaning at a nightclub. Two grand more a month than the bakery. I need it.
I’ve been sniffling for a week. Chills. Headache. Probably from freezing my butt off in those bushes.
Tonight I’m hauling my cleaning cart through the club when the shift lead calls me over.
“Lindy, VIP room 4. Someone smashed a whiskey bottle. Get in there.”
I grab my kit and go.
The door clicks shut behind me.
Then — *thunk*. The lock slides.
A hand grabs my phone right out of my back pocket.
I spin around.
Hunter Cole. Three guys behind him. A table full of whiskey bottles. No broken glass anywhere.
Set-up.
Hunter grins.
“Remember me, sweetheart? You stabbed my hand with a pen.”
I try to stay calm.
“Let me out. Or I’m telling Nina, and Xander puts you back in the hospital.”
Hunter *laughs*. Like a full-belly laugh.
“Xander? Honey, Xander won’t even look at Nina right now. You think he gives a damn about *you*?”
My stomach drops.
Hunter waves at the table.
“Here’s the deal. Drink every bottle. Then you can leave.”
I look at the door. Locked. Look at the four of them.
No way out. Just play along. Get the phone. Escape later.
I walk to the table. Pick up a shot glass. Throw it back.
Whiskey burns straight down.
Another. Another. Another.
The room starts spinning. I’m already sick — fever, empty stomach. The alcohol hits like a truck.
Then the door opens.
I lift my head. Barely.
Xander.
Hunter goes stiff. Nervous smile.
“Hey, Xander, man—”
Xander doesn’t say anything. He just… walks in. Sits down on the couch. Crosses one leg over the other.
And watches.
He doesn’t stop it.
He doesn’t help me.
He pulls out his phone. Types something. Cool as ice.
My burner buzzes on the table where Hunter dumped it.
I can’t reach it. My knees are jelly.
Xander’s message pops up on the lockscreen. I can see it from here.
“Your little assistant’s getting force-fed whiskey right now.”
“Say something nice to me and maybe I’ll save her.”
I stare at the screen.
My chest cracks.
He’s using me.
He’s using me to punish Nina.
I let out a laugh that turns into a cough. Xander’s head snaps toward me.
He waits. Watches his phone.
Nina doesn’t reply.
His frown deepens.
He stands up. Walks over. Grabs my chin with cold fingers and tilts my face up.
For three months, this man made me smile.
Late at night, alone in my crappy apartment, texting jokes back and forth. He made me forget I was tired.
He made me forget I was broke. There were moments — stupid moments — where I forgot it wasn’t real.
I look up at him now.
Fever. Whiskey. Exhaustion.
And some tiny, pathetic part of me leans into his hand.
Save me. Please.
Xander looks down at me.
Then, flat and cold, he says:
“Not bad enough yet.”
He turns to Hunter.
“She doesn’t look pathetic enough. Fix that.”
—