My phone buzzed softly on my bedside drawer interrupting my sleep.Thought you’d like to know. Your dirty little secret just became public knowledge.

I sat up in bed, heart racing.

Roman lay beside me, completely naked, arm heavy across my waist, like he owned my body even in his sleep. My skin still smelled like him, bruises and bite marks fresh from round three- or was it four? I’d lost count after he bent me over the kitchen counter and made me scream into my own palm.

I blinked at the screen, rereading the message again.

Then another one came through.

Anonymous account. Instagram. @WolfeWatchdog. You’re welcome.

I clicked the link.

And there it was.

A grainy black and white still.

Me. Bent over the office window.

Roman’s hand in my hair.

His body fully pressed into mine.

My skirt hiked high.

There was no mistaking it.

My face.

His.

The unmistakable posture of being taken.

Like I was a possession.

The caption read:

Is this what leadership looks like at Wolfe & Wolfe Inc? CEO Roman Wolfe handling business.

My stomach dropped.

Roman stirred beside me, groaning softly, stretching like a lion after a feast. I held still, but it didn’t matter. His hand slid down to my thigh like it always did, claiming skin without asking.

Then he noticed my body was rigid and cold.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice raspy from sleep and sex.

I turned the phone toward him.

He sat up instantly.

His eyes scanned the screen.

Silence.

Then he exhaled slowly. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” I said, voice shaking. “That about covers it.”

He was already out of bed, grabbing his phone, barking orders before I even processed the fallout.

I watched him pace the bedroom in nothing but briefs, completely unbothered by his naked body being halfway across the internet.

But me?

My stomach was a knot of shame and fire.

“This is bad,” I whispered.

Roman didn’t even blink. “No. It's not that bad I promise.”

I stared at him. “It's not that bad? Hello?! I’m the one bent over your office window.”

“And I’m the one fucking you like I want to carve my name inside you,” he snapped, voice harsh now. “You think I’m going to let anyone shame you for that?”

My cheeks burned.

His eyes softened, just a little.

He stepped closer, kneeling in front of me at the edge of the bed.

His hands cupped my face.

“You think I regret any of it?” he asked.

My throat was tight. “Shouldn’t you?”

He leaned in, kissing the corner of my mouth. “I regret not locking the blinds.”

I almost laughed.

Almost.

But the dread in my chest was still too sharp.

“I could lose my job,” I whispered.

“You won’t,” he said. “You work for me. I decide.”

“Roman, this is bigger than....”

“I said I’ll fix it.”

His mouth covered mine, hard and fast, like he was trying to kiss away the panic.

And it almost worked.

Almost.

But when he pulled away, I stopped him with a question that I wasn’t supposed to ask.

“Who else knows about us?”

He stilled.

His jaw tightened.

“No one that matters.”

That answer? It made my stomach twist in the wrong way.

But before I could press further, his phone rang.

He didn’t even look at it. Just grabbed my wrist and dragged me with him.

Naked. Bared. Still dripping from him.

Straight into the shower.

I gasped as the hot water hit us.

Roman slammed me against the tile and kissed me like we didn’t have enemies.

Like the world hadn’t just seen me in the most vulnerable position a woman could be in.

“You’re mine,” he growled, licking a trail down my throat. “Let them watch. Let them know. I don’t fucking care.”

His fingers slid between my legs and dig into my soft pussy.

I moaned helplessly.

He lifted one leg around his hip, his cock hard and heavy against my thigh.

I reached for his dick, desperate to have a taste of it.

But he suddenly pulled back.

“No,” he said. “I want to do yours first.”

He dropped to his knees.

And without a word, he buried his mouth between my legs.

The water pounded around us, but all I could feel was his tongue. His hands spreading me wider. His groans vibrating into me like thunder.

I came too fast.

He didn’t stop.

I was shaking, legs buckling, my back against the wall, as he made me come again.

And again.

Until I was sobbing his name, legs wrapped around his head, nails in his wet hair.

When he finally stood, his mouth was shiny with me.

He grabbed my ass and lifted me easily.

I reached for him, wrapping around him like instinct.

“I should be panicking,” I said, breathless.

“You are,” he murmured, pushing into me in one slow, brutal thrust. “But I'm gonna fuck you through it.”

He moved hard, fast, water slapping against our skin as he fucked me against the shower wall.

Claiming me like he needed to destroy every other memory I had.

When we came, we did it together.

It was loud, messy and raw.

And when he finally pulled out, his chest heaving hard, he looked down at me like I was his world.

Then he said in a low but certain voice.

“We don’t have to hide anymore.”