Where Can I Read 'On Work' For Free?

For one night, I belonged to him. An entire club of people in masks. No names were allowed. He demanded my submission. He satisfied my darkest desires. What was only one night turned into our obsession. I craved his commands. Needed to please him. What happens when I find out the masked man in the club is my boss and he has no plans of giving me up.

"Call me only as Sir, or I will spank you hard." He continues, moving his lips down to my neck. The heat from his touch is like an inferno that builds inside me. One night of surrender. Only names. No promises. No restraint. She gives herself to a stranger who knows exactly how to take control; commanding, intoxicating, unforgettable. Until she’s summoned to the CEO’s office. The man waiting for her is the billionaire founder of More, a global meal-kit empire. A visionary chef with a flawless public image, a ruthless business mind… and the same commanding presence that once had her kneeling to his rules. He’s her boss. And he remembers everything. As the company’s marketing manager, she should keep her distance. But his authority extends far beyond the boardroom, and every order, every glance, every quiet moment behind closed doors reminds her how easily she gave him her control. Because beneath the tailored suits and culinary fame is a man who thrives on dominance and a dirty secret that could destroy his empire if exposed. She should walk away. Instead, she’s tempted to submit again. And this time, the cost of giving in could be far more than her heart. A dark, seductive billionaire workplace romance filled with power, control, forbidden desire, and secrets that taste far too good to resist

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

After I shared my five-million-dollar commission with my department colleagues, they drag me to a hotel and celebrate with me for three days straight. But when I walk past the bathroom, I overhear a conversation between two of my colleagues that stops me cold. "Have the results of the vote come out yet?" What vote? Confused, I check my phone and find that I've been removed from the Project Department's group chat. "Who else could it be? Our hero, Zane Carter, received eleven votes. It was unanimous, and the motion was passed." "Serves him right. I've never liked him anyway." I freeze. I can't believe that my colleagues would betray me after what I've done for them. After taking a moment to calm down, I immediately decide to resign. The next thing I know, I receive a call from the company chairman, Wilson Smith. "Have you made up your mind? Quitting now would breach your contract. As a result, your five-million-dollar commission would be revoked. "You're also a key technical staff member. If you leave, your entire department would most likely be dismissed. Once that happens, your colleagues will end up unemployed. Are you sure about this?" I lower my gaze and let out a cold laugh. "Absolutely."

My name becomes the sensational topic on the trending list thanks to my company's employees, who have cyberbullied me relentlessly. It all started when an intern named Cecily Plinkton posted a complaint on her social media feed, claiming that the seafood thermidor, a new food item that had just gotten released in the company's cafeteria, was sold for 14 dollars, which was four dollars more expensive than before. "What a scum company! Are the higher-ups that crazy over money? They're just leeching from us white-collar peeps repeatedly!" The entire Internet doesn't hesitate to curse me out. They claim that I'm a cold-blooded capitalist who's greedy enough to charge her own employees for lunch. No one cares about the fact that I've been shelling out my own money in order to upgrade the cafeteria's food choices just so I could make the employees happier. Every day, they get to eat over hundreds of dishes to their fill for free. Every week, the expensive dishes, such as lobsters and crabs, are charged at the net price. Thanks to these free benefits, the administrative department has been suffering from almost a one-million-dollar loss every year. So, I announce that the food prices in the cafeteria will be changed to reflect the current market's prices. At the same time, I've fired the head chef and the kitchen staff and left the meal preparation to another company that produces instant meals. As soon as the announcement is made, the entire company goes into a frenzy. The employees all crowd outside my office while begging me to bring back the benefits with tears streaking down their cheeks.

A contract is desperately needed for the company to close the deal on a project, so I head over to the administrative department to lodge a request for printing paper. However, the administrative employee, Lydia Reed, slaps on an arrogant expression. "In order to prevent bottom feeders like you from taking advantage of the company by stealing the company's resources, the company's rulebook has already stated that you must bring your own paper to work!" I just point at the pile of boxes containing A4 paper behind Lydia before asking coldly, "Then who are those resources meant for?" Lydia rolls her eyes at me. "Well, they are meant for people who truly are worthy of this company's resources, duh! "You're just a meager project manager who keeps asking for money without making any contributions at all, so you can forget about getting your hands on anything that belongs to the company!" I nod in return. After leaving the department, I dial a number. "I'm sorry, Mr. Cross. It seems that we shall not be participating in the 200-million-dollar bid after all."