Chapter 2: The Sting of Humiliation

The executive suite hummed with tension before 9 AM. Sebastian Hartwell's fingers drummed rhythmically on his mahogany desk, eyes fixed like daggers on the frosted glass door. When Clara Morgan entered carrying his coffee, the air crackled.

"Your Ethiopian Yirgacheffe, Mr. Hartwell."

He reached out—their fingers brushed. Clara flinched as if electrocuted. Sebastian's gaze narrowed. This woman who'd flirted like a siren now trembled like prey? His eyes snagged on the half-concealed bruises blooming at her throat.

"Button your collar," he ordered coldly.

Flushing, Clara secured the top button. "My apologies, sir." Childhood trauma had wired her to avoid constriction—even foundation couldn't mask the evidence. As she retreated, Sebastian's knuckles whitened. Last night's memories flooded back: her tears, the broken whimpers, how her body had arched against him even as she pleaded stop.

He'd never been ruled by lust. Women threw themselves at the CEO of Hartwell Enterprises, yet their cloying perfumes repelled him. When his previous assistant took paternity leave, Clara had audaciously demanded the position. Sebastian knew she wanted his bed—but what drove her? He'd waited, watched. Her "accidental" touches grew bolder—a hand "slipping" on his thigh during a limo ride. Any other woman would've been thrown out bodily.

Why not her?

Last night's gala changed everything. He'd carried her into his penthouse suite, expecting eager surrender. Instead, she'd dissolved into terrified tears. "Not what you wanted, Clara?" he'd mocked. Her choked plea—"Please, I was wrong"—only ignited him. He'd taken her until she passed out. And that damning scarlet smear on his sheets... A virgin? What game is she playing?

Outside, Clara hunched at her desk, cramps twisting low in her abdomen. Too early for my cycle... Was it...? Visions of last night resurfaced: Sebastian's relentless rhythm, her raw throat from begging. He's a demon.

"Clara, you look pale," Mia whispered. The junior assistant had defended Clara against office rumors for months. When whispers swirled—"How'd that admin girl become Hartwell's shadow?"—Mia shut them down: "She earned this. End of discussion."

"Just need water," Clara forced a smile.

Stiletto heels cracked through the lobby like gunshots. A receptionist scurried behind Serena Vance. "Miss Vance has no appointment, but—"

"Since when do I need appointments?" Serena sneered.

Clara rose, spine steeled. "Mr. Hartwell's in a strategy session. I'll notify you when he's—"

"You? Dictating when I see Sebastian?" Serena's mascara-heavy eyes raked Clara up and down. This was the face Clara saw pressed against Ethan Windsor's bare chest in that storage room. The face that led St. Ignatius' "royal court" in tormenting her—stealing textbooks, yanking her braids, chanting "Dumpy Clara! Four-eyed freak!" while teachers looked away. Orphaned and powerless, Clara endured it all.

"It's Mr. Hartwell's policy," Clara kept her tone neutral. "If I interrupt him, neither of us will enjoy his reaction."

"You worthless—!" Serena's palm cracked across Clara's cheek. The slap echoed through the silent floor. "Think you're special now? You'll always be trash!"

Mia shot up. "This is Hartwell Enterprises! Control yourself!"

Clara cradled her stinging cheek. "If I'm trash, Miss Vance, does that make Mr. Hartwell a garbage collector?"

Serena lunged again—but a hand like iron shackled her wrist. Sebastian stood behind her, eyes volcanic.

"Which hand hit her?" His voice scraped like gravel. Serena whimpered as his grip tightened. "My father's company has contracts with—"

"This hand?" Sebastian twisted. Serena's wrist purpled under his hold.

Clara seized his forearm. "Sir, it's nothing! She didn't mean—" She remembered that grip's brutal strength. For a heartbeat, Sebastian hesitated—Clara's pleading eyes mirroring last night's desperation. He shoved Serena away.

"Out."

As Serena stumbled, Sebastian snapped to his assistant manager Yan Wu: "Cancel all Vance Holdings contracts. Have security drag her out if she lingers."