Sweet Bastard

The rain lashed against the taxi window as you sped towards the Russo Tower. A frantic search of your apartment had confirmed your worst fear – your phone was still at the office. At six in the evening, the city lights blurred as you worried about missing a call from Jason, your boyfriend, who was due to call around eight.

Arriving at the towering building, you hurried inside, exchanging a quick word with Dan, the head security guard. The lights were still on in Mr. Russo’s office, a common occurrence for the workaholic billionaire.

You reached your desk and breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing your phone. But then, your eyes landed on something else – a flimsy red thong dangling from your pencil. Disgusted, you dropped it and disinfected your hands, wondering who would do such a thing. Before you could dwell on it, a distinct sound reached your ears – a moan coming from Mr. Russo’s office. Curiosity, or perhaps concern, drew you closer to his door. As you leaned in to listen, the door suddenly swung open…