PREVIEW

... work without my permission?"

My brain stuttered. "What the fuck—"

"I’m not done with you yet." His tone was casual, conversational, like we were discussing weekend plans. "Get dressed. A car is waiting downstairs."

"I—" I sat up, heart hammering. "It’s almost midnight. I finished the presentation. I did your corrections and sent it to your email—"

"I said you should redo it. I didn’t say you were dismissed for the evening."

"You can’t just—"

"You ...

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