Renewing Love's Contract With His Beloved Secretary

In the CEO's lavish office on the 38th floor of the Powell Group building.

"No, Mr. Powell, please, not here."

As soon as Raegan Dixon entered, attempting to deliver a report to Wesley Powell, he pushed her against the door, sealing her lips with a fervent kiss.

In a husky, teasing voice, he whispered into her ear, "How's the wine in Sladena?"

"I only had a little," she managed to reply. Days earlier, a business trip to Sladena City had demanded social drinking for a successful deal. The pressure from her collaborators left her with no choice but to partake.

Unsatisfied with her response, Wesley's frustration manifested physically as he aggressively began to undress her.

His breath, heated and erratic, grazed her neck. "I want you," he stated plainly, marking her neck with a possessive bite.

Raegan's expression remained stoic, yet her body reacted involuntarily. She clenched her teeth, refusing to give voice to her discomfort.

The fear of discovery by any employee weighed heavily on her, given the clandestine nature of their relationship.

Wesley's persistence left Raegan with no choice but to reciprocate his embrace, a tacit acknowledgment of her situation. She understood that resistance was not only futile but would also provoke further intensity from him.

Following their encounter, Wesley nonchalantly adjusted his attire before cautioning Raegan against future attendance at less significant social gatherings.

She understood his directive; he wished to keep her from the public eye. Submissively, she agreed.

Wesley raised his eyebrows a bit when he looked at her. "Next time, don't let just anyone in. Did you not notice the Buckley Group's female CEO was wearing aphrodisiac perfume?"

This revelation hit Raegan like a ton of bricks, helping her piece together the puzzle behind Wesley's earlier behavior.

Her fingers tightened into fists, and her face lost its color.

"I'm sorry," she said, her head bowed in apology, hiding the pain coursing through her body.

For nearly three years, Raegan had been juggling roles as Wesley's secretary by day and as his companion by night.

"You'll see half your bonus gone this month," Wesley declared, his voice devoid of warmth, before gesturing for her to leave.

Stepping outside his office, Raegan's phone rang with a call from the hospital.

"Miss Dixon, the funds you deposited are nearly depleted. Given your grandmother's condition, it's critical she continues her medication. Please, arrange for additional payment soon."

Raegan remembered then that she had neglected her grandmother's medical bills for days.

She quickly transferred what money she had to the hospital, emptying her account.

Yet, it was a drop in the bucket, barely covering two days of care.

Recently, Wesley had stopped sending her money after their nights together, leaving her puzzled and worried.

She knew something had to change.

Without hesitation, she called her best friend, Nina Jenkins, hoping for advice on earning money quickly.

"The Grandeur Group is eyeing the government's environmental project, but it's still up for grabs. Why not give it a shot? Helping them secure it could mean you wouldn't have to worry about medical bills for months," Nina suggested, her role as a financial journalist providing her with insider knowledge.

Yet, Raegan knew Grandeur Group was a direct competitor to Wesley's company for this very project.

Despite her financial desperation, she couldn't bring herself to betray Wesley by aiding his rival.

After much thought, she turned around and knocked on Wesley's office door again. "Mr. Powell."

"What's the issue?"

Raegan pressed her lips together. "You've yet to send the money my way."

Wesley's gaze swept over her, his voice dripping with cold sarcasm. "Seems your face is the only thing of value. Unlike you, she wouldn't grovel for money."

Those words cut deep, chipping away at Raegan's self-worth.

Each jab was a cruel reminder of her place as nothing more than a stand-in for his true love.

Lifting her gaze to meet his, her eyes swirled with a storm of bitterness.

With her voice caught in her throat, she managed to say, "Our agreement was clear. Payment follows our encounters."

Wesley's response was a sneer, his lips twisting in disdain. "So, Raegan, your love for money knows no bounds?"

"Yes," she replied, her resolve as firm as ever. Hidden by the room's dim light, the tears welling in her eyes remained unseen. Her voice, however, carried her determined stance. "Why else would I cozy up to you if not for the money?"

Silence fell between them, a heavy veil that neither wished to lift.

Eventually, Wesley's phone came to life as he transferred the funds, though his expression remained sour. "Being a stand-in, you ought to grasp the essence of the one you're mimicking."

His warning was foreboding. "Don't let greed define you."

Without another glance, Wesley turned away.

"Thank you." Clutching her phone, Raegan searched for words that refused to come. Rooted to the spot, she remained motionless.

Wesley's patience wore thin. "Don't forget the pills," he remarked, an edge to his voice.

Raegan's heart ached as she bit down on her lip, turning to leave. The door's click echoed, a stark symbol of her fractured spirit.

She found herself sinking to the floor, knees hugged tight. Tears threatened, yet none came.

Her grandmother's health was a ticking clock, and pleading with Wesley was not an option. Badly in need of money, she had no choice but to...