Chapter 4: The Price of One Mistake

Chapter 4: Chapter 4: The Price of One Mistake The voice didn’t just destroy me this time. It owned me. It engraved itself into my mind, like I was being reprogrammed. Controlled. I spilled over and over again, just from his voice on the phone. No touch. No sight. Just that dark, commanding tone that made me moan until I was crying, not from pain, but from overwhelming, soul-shattering pleasure. It was the kind of release that felt endless. That made me forget who I was. It was so satisfying, so intense that I didn’t want it to end. But my body gave in. I’d already poured out every drop of myself, and now I was trembling, breathless, too weak to even move. I lay on the couch, dazed, eyes half-lidded, muscles twitching with the aftershocks. I reached for the tissue beside me with a weak hand and cleaned myself up, still trying to process what had just happened. Before I could think too much, sleep pulled me under. Fast. Deep. And I didn’t fight it. "He wasn’t even here... and yet he ruined me. Again." The next morning, I woke up feeling like I hadn’t slept at all. I dragged myself to the shower, hoping cold water would clear my head, but even under the stream, his voice still echoed in my mind. I dressed quickly and headed to the restaurant, trying to bury everything in routine. Midway through prepping the lunch menu, one of my staff burst into the kitchen, breathless and wide-eyed. "Boss! We just got a massive order from Draeven Holdings!" My hand froze mid-slice. The knife hovered over the cutting board. "Draeven Holdings?" I asked, my voice tighter than I expected. "Yeah," she nodded. "It’s a huge spread. Full course. For their entire staff." I blinked. That wasn’t unheard of, but then she added, "But... the CEO gave specific instructions." "What instructions?" "He said..." You have to deliver it yourself. Personally." I nearly dropped the knife. "Are you sure?" I asked, trying to hide the tremble in my voice. "He was very clear," she said. "He said he wouldn’t accept the order unless you brought it." A chill crept through me. That voice... that man. Why was he doing this? I swallowed hard and looked down at my hands, slightly shaking. Still, we boxed the order together, every tray, every cup, packed perfectly. I told two of my staff to come with me. Draeven Holdings wasn’t far, but the moment I stood in front of the building, I felt it again. Power, wealth, and control. It was massive, taller, shinier, and colder than I expected. I muttered under my breath, "Draeven really is on top." Inside, the receptionist didn’t even flinch when she saw me. Like she’d been expecting me. I stayed behind at the lobby desk and sent my two staff members in with the food. A few minutes later, they returned, one of them looking nervous. "He said no," she whispered. "What?" "The CEO said if you don’t personally deliver it to the boardroom, then we should take everything back." My heart dropped. What the hell did this man want from me? I sighed and told them to follow my lead. I instructed one to deliver to the general staff and the other to stay behind me as I headed toward the boardroom. I walked stiffly, box in hand, keeping my eyes low, refusing to look at him. I focused on the others seated around the long, polished table. When I reached his seat, I gently placed the cup of Americano he ordered on the table, ready to turn and leave immediately. But then, somehow, the cup fell. I know I was being careful, so how did it tip over? The cup tipped. Coffee spilled across the table... right onto his suit. My breath caught. My heart nearly stopped. " I-I’m so sorry," I stammered, reaching instinctively to help, grabbing a napkin to dab at the mess. "I didn’t mean to..." He didn’t flinch. He didn’t yell. Instead, his voice came low, steady, and maddeningly calm. "Mr. Smith," he said, tilting his head, "I think you need to take responsibility for this." Then, without missing a beat, he ended the meeting with one simple command. "Everyone, dismissed." Before I could react, he turned to me again. "Follow me." He didn’t look back to check if I was obeying. And I... I followed. My staff stayed behind, wide-eyed. And I walked straight into his office, my pulse pounding louder with every step. When we got to his office, I kept my head low. My fingers nervously fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. The silence between us felt thick, like it was swallowing the air in the room. "I’m really sorry," I said, voice quiet but sincere. "I was being careful. I don’t know how the cup fell." He leaned back in his leather chair, legs crossed, gaze cold and unreadable. Then he said it flatly, "You don’t know how it fell... because I’m the one who made it fall." I jerked my head up, eyes widening. What? My heart skipped a beat. "Why would you do that?" He stood slowly, walking toward me with measured steps, his expression sharp. "Because you refused to look at me." I blinked, taken aback. "Why do I have to look at you?" He came to a stop in front of me, close enough that I could smell his cologne expensive and suffocating. He straightened his sleeves, cool and composed. "My suit will be sent to your house," he said, his voice low. "Clean it and send it back." I crossed my arms, glaring. "Just send it to a dry cleaner and message me the bill." I turned on my heel, heading toward the door. Before I could reach it, his voice cut through the room like a whip. "I’m not done with you." I stopped. My shoulders tensed. Without turning, I said through clenched teeth, "My business with you is done. Stop showing up anywhere close to me. I’m done with you." He didn’t miss a beat. "You may be done with me... but I’m not done with you." I inhaled sharply, biting back the curse in my throat. If I had known one stupid night would cause this much chaos, I would’ve never said yes. He didn’t stop me as I stormed out. I slammed the door behind me, heart pounding in my ears. The city air hit me like a wave, but I didn’t slow down. I needed distance. Space. By the time I reached my restaurant, the lights were already on, and the smell of grilled spices wrapped around me like comfort. I pushed the door open, stepped behind the counter, and buried myself in work, trying to shake off the tension still clinging to my skin. The rest of my day, I smiled at customers, cleared tables, and refilled drinks, but my mind was racing. No call. No message. Not a single text from him. Not even a bill for the suit. Maybe that’s it, I told myself. Maybe I’m finally free. When I drove home, the silence in my car felt like a blessing. I parked, climbed the stairs, and opened the door to stillness. No drama. No unexpected guests. I showered, pulled on my softest tee, and curled into my bed, letting my body relax for the first time all day. Then... the doorbell rang. I sat up slowly. My heart thudded once. Dean? I smiled, hopeful. Maybe he brought wine or came to rant about his horrible date. I padded barefoot to the door and swung it open. My heart stopped. The smile fell off my face. My fingers went limp at my side. Standing there, dressed in black, with eyes full of something unreadable... Was Evric. My throat tensed. My chest ached with dread. What kind of karma did I commit to deserve this? I thought, my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach.