My Husband's Boss

I hear his footsteps, but I don’t turn around.

All I can do is breathe. Breathe, despite the searing pain in my chest, the fear and despair eating me from the inside.

I have to…

It’s not hard. Probably…

But as soon as his breath touches my neck, I involuntarily whisper:

— You shouldn’t have chosen money. Sex with me isn’t the best offer. Believe me—you seriously miscalculated.

— We’ll see, he says coldly.

And the little snake on my dress begins to slip down, relentlessly, under the pressure of his hard fingers.