Chapter 5

Priyanka’s eyes snapped open with a gasp, her body drenched in sweat as the remnants of her dream clung to her skin like a second layer. The sheets were tangled between her legs, damp with more than just perspiration. In the dream, she had been crawling on all fours down the boardroom’s polished marble floor, Heffner’s polished leather shoe pressing into the small of her back as he tugged the leash connected to her collar. The humiliation had been suffocating—and yet, her pulse still hammered between her thighs at the memory.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the images, but they only grew sharper. Yesterday had been real. Yesterday had changed everything.

The shower’s scalding spray did little to cleanse the shame. Priyanka scrubbed at her skin until it turned pink, as if she could erase the way Heffner’s fingers had traced the outline of her trembling lips while he whispered his demands. The memory of his smirk—cold, calculating—made her stomach twist. He hadn’t just ambushed her. He’d dismantled her. Those photos ... those videos ... her own moans echoing back at her from his tablet while she sat bound to her chair, his hands explored her most intimate part.

“You love this, don’t you? Being humiliated. Being used.” He nipped at her earlobe. “Admit it.”

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the outfit laid out on the bed—his choice, not hers. The skirt was so short the hem barely grazed the curve of her ass. The blouse was transparent enough that her dark nipples were already pebbling beneath the fabric, visible to anyone who cared to look. And they would look. He’d made sure of that.

The worst part wasn’t the clothing. It wasn’t even the way the choker—deceptively elegant, its silver ring glinting like a promise. It was the wetness pooling between her legs as she imagined Heffner’s hands tightening around that ring, pulling, forcing her to her knees in front of the entire boardroom.

She bit back a whimper.

The driver’s gaze burned into her the moment she stepped outside. Normally, he barely glanced at her. Today, his eyes raked over her exposed thighs, the sheer fabric clinging to her curves, the way her heels made her ass sway with every step. Priyanka lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his stare—until his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

Her stomach dropped.

The sleek black Mercedes purred to a stop inches from the curb, its tinted windows doing nothing to hide Priyanka’s humiliation. Her thighs burned where the leather seat had bitten into her bare skin during the ride—skin exposed because her skirt had ridden up to obscene heights, the driver’s hungry eyes glued to the rearview mirror the entire twenty-minute drive. She could still feel his gaze crawling over her like cockroaches on silk.

Her fingers trembled as she yanked the hem down, the fabric damp with sweat where it clung to her inner thighs. The air conditioning had been turned off deliberately—she knew it—just another petty torture in this endless game. A droplet of condensation slid down the window like a tear she refused to shed. Outside, the chrome-plated doors of Chopra Corporation reflected her figure.

The lobby fell silent when she entered. Her Jimmy Choos clicked like a metronome counting down to disaster across the marble floor. Behind the reception desk, the girl Priyanka had warned for “insubordination” last quarter—dropped her pen. It rolled across the counter as her gaze travelled from Priyanka’s swollen lips down to the telltale bruises peeking above her collar. The entire security team stopped pretending to work.