Breaking Mr Pierce

The man before me is gorgeous. He has a face like one of my dream guys with a chiseled jawline, dark curls which look messy, urging me to run my fingers through them, and his cheeks are endowed with a five o'clock beard. His blue, magnetic eyes are concentrated on my file as he lazily turns the sheets, looking like a professor checking exam papers. His gold watch reflects the light coming through the large glass wall behind him, adding to his charisma. Dressed in a deep grey three-piece suit covering his broad shoulders and lean muscles, his appearance commands the room.

The sight of him is so breathtaking that the moment I saw him I knew this plan was never going to work if I didn't manage to keep my imagination in check. When you read too many Book Tok romance books like me, you end up imagining yourself as the heroine every time a familiar situation presents itself.

"Miss Emma Gold.." the man begins in a deep voice that makes me squeeze my legs. He shuts the file and raises his eyes to my face. He puts his elbows on top of the file, resting his chin above as he studies me. "I'll ask one simple question - why do you want this job?"

I purse my lips, straightening in my seat. "Mr Pierce, I have researched all about your company. You have the environment and the management which I think perfectly suits what I'm looking for. If I'm given the position, I'll do my best to prove myself worth it.." He lifts a hand, waving it in the air to stop my rambling.

"Miss Gold.." He leans back in his chair like a man

who knows he owns the conversation without

requiring permission. "You've applied for the

position of my PA. The position does not only

require hard work and dedication but also

compatibility with me. You understand what I am

saying, right?" "I do."

He nods slowly, picking my portfolio again and

studying it. "Your qualification impresses me but the part about your interests and hobbies has me hesitating. Can you describe them to me in more detail?" "I like to read," I answer immediately. "I like to

read and knit and blog about stuff. It helps me pass

time." Mr. Pierce raises a dark eyebrow, shaking his head dismissively. "I have met thirty other applicants

with the same hobbies. What makes you special,

Miss Gold? Why do you think I should choose You?"

He drops my portfolio and his gaze on me

intensifies as if he can't wait to see if he is finally

getting on my nerves. My hobbies should have

nothing to do with the job criteria and yet he is

making this personal route of conversation sound

so official.

"Mr. Pierce, I do realize how my qualifications are

nothing out of the ordinary but I have been told

that I have a way of surprising people with my

dedication towards any kind of work. I'm

passionate about basically everything I do and

work is another passion of mine. I don't work to

earn but because I love work itself. It pleases me."

"Work gives you pleasure, Miss Gold?" A corner of

his lips lifts to form a boyish smirk. I can't deny it.

This man has charm.

"How much pleasure exactly?"

I sense the way his line of questioning is slowly

changing directions. He doesn't smile though. Even

his smirk is the tiniest curve. I doubt anyone has

ever seen this man smile. All his pictures in

magazines and last year's Forbes Top 40

Youngest Billionaires were devoid of a smile.

"I'll say if you give me the position, you'll find me

extremely pleasurable, Mr. Pierce. I have been told

to have great flexibility," I reply, squaring my shoulders. "For work of course.

Mr. Pierce's jaw remains hard as his eyes drift

down my body, taking in my cheap-expensive

Walmart dress which I specifically bought for this

interview. My job isn't to get the job. My job is to

get to him. I tried my best, just like I was told to.

My dark brown hair is tied in a neat bun at the back

of my head like a professional woman's but some

tendrils frame my face in perfect waves. I have kept

the make-up minimal but my lipstick is wine-red,

the color that most men find hard to not notice.

Mr. Pierce doesn't look impressed though as he

shrugs disinterestedly.

"Miss. Gold, I appreciate you coming in here but I

don't think you'll be able to meet my demands. I

want an assistant who can stand up to me, speak

up when I'm making a mistake, and not rush crying

to the bathroom at every criticism I throw at them.

Are you capable of managing that? Because to me,

you seem as ordinary as the numerous other

applicants who came in and sat here today."

"And you got that about my personality just by

sitting here and asking me useless questions?" I

throw back at him and then lean forward slightly,

meeting his gaze with confidence.

"If you really want to hire someone today, you might want to ask them something more relevant than about their hobbies. For example, give me a situation and ask

me how I'll handle it as your future PA."

"You're teaching me interview skills, Miss Gold?"

The man throws me a curious glance, visibly

offended. "You'll do well to remember which side of

this room you're sitting on."

"Didn't you just say that you wanted someone who

could stand up to you and point out your mistakes?

I'm doing just that, Mr. Pierce."

His jaw hardens further. He moves closer, resting

his forearms on the top of the desk and crossing

them over each other as he stares at me. I don't let

my gaze fall from the strong edges of his face and

his piercing blue eyes which compliment every part

of his name.

Mr. Ryan Pierce

Ranked at Top 15 among Forbes 2022's Youngest

Billionaires.

Age: 31

Height: 6'2

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Black

Passions: Scowling and grumbling

Likes: Being challenged

Dislike: People who are scared of him

Source: From a very personal member.

"Miss Gold..." His voice drops in depth, sounding

soft and carrying a seductive tune in it without an

intentional attempt. "You're playing with fire here.

I'm not like the men you read in your little romance

books who find your impulsiveness fascinating. In

fact, I'm quite the opposite because right now you're being nothing but annoying to me. I don't let his words bite me as I lean forward too, clasping my hands on top of his desk and resting my chin above them.

"Mr. Pierce, do you threaten anyone who points out

your mistakes? Because that makes your

personality look even less appealing. You had a

problem and I gave you a simple solution. You

should be thanking me."

"Give up arguing, Miss. Gold. You won't be able to

do it."

"I will if you give me a chance,

"I say.

"I'm not afraid of you. If you give me a chance, I'll prove it. I will never give up."

I notice the tick of his jaw, the twitch in a corner

muscle of his eye and I know that I have got him

where I want him.

"Miss Gold..." he says after a moment's silence.

"Yes, Mr. Pierce?"

"The job is yours," he declares and then pulls back,

leaning back casually in his revolving chair.

My eyes widen at this new turn of events. I didn't

think it would be that easy obviously. My limbs

tremble a little as I move back from his desk, my

mouth opening in surprise.

"Are you sure, Mr. Pierce?" I ask, thinking I must have heard him wrong.

"I am very sure. The job is yours..." Then the man finally smiles lightly - a wicked, wicked smile which

he is right to hide from the world because the sight

of it is chilling. 'for a month."

Damn it!

"A month?" I blink at him, even more taken aback

than the first time.

"Yes, Miss. Gold. I'm giving you one month to

prove yourself capable of being my PA. Your salary

will be triple the package I offered in the

advertisement if you can pass this one month

without disappointing me in any way. You'll get

your own apartment, your medical fees will be

taken care of by the company, you'll get a vacation

package and many other perks the job offers."

I swallow a gulp, imagining all that actually being

mine. It sounds like the deal of a lifetime. Even if I

had no interest in the job before, it fascinates me

now. Coming from a family of extreme depravity and

having lost my adoptive father a few years ago, I

have been struggling to manage my affairs for long.

His offer sounds so reliving that I find it hard to

believe this opportunity.

"Really? What's the catch?"

"Just one, Miss. Gold." Mr. Pierce lifts a hand to

rub at his bottom lip as his gaze on me deepens. "If

you lose, you'll apologize to me for this insolent

behavior in front of my whole staff. Is that done?"

The billionaire bastard gets up from his seat and

extends his hand for me to shake.

I force myself to smile, getting up too as I look at

his hand before taking it. His skin is hot against

mine and his hold is tight.

"I accept, Mr. Pierce," I say.

Welcome to Pierce Enterprises then, Miss. Gold."

He grips my hand harder in his. "I hope you have

an excellent time here."

Tia blinks at me in an unconventional manner

when I narrate the day's events to her. Her green

eyes flutter behind her thick lashes. I observe her in

my mirror while I decorate my eyes with black

eyeliner, creating a butterfly effect on the sides.

"Oh my God, Emma!" she suddenly exclaims,

getting up from my bed and covering her mouth

with her hands. "You were challenged by Eric

Pierce! How can you be so okay after that?"

She looks visibly speechless, not a surprise

considering the way she has had a crush on Eric

Pierce ever since he came on the front page of

Forbes magazine. She has made him her idol and

wants to follow his path to success when she opens

her own digital business.

The doe-eyed creature even has his public

appearances memorized from morning to night

which makes me wonder if she would have been his

perfect assistant instead of me. She is even prettier

than I am. Maybe she would have been a better

choice.

Her black dress hugs her curves and behind her

temporary glasses, there is a sweet heart-shaped

face with milky skin and full lips as she stares at me

wide-eyed. Her brunette hair hangs loosely over

her shoulders, framing her face in gentle waves.

I, on the other hand, am dressed in a simple white

crop top with full sleeves and a royal blue skirt

which doesn't stick to my curves as hers does. My hair is in a half up-do unlike hers.

+

"It's nothing much, Tia." I drop the eyeliner back in

my make-up box before turning to her. "That man

is not the idol you make him to be. He doesn't even

know how to conduct a proper interview! I pissed

him off and that's why he gave me the job.'

"But you got to meet him!" Tia contradicts, making

dreamy eyes at the ceiling.

"And Emma, he is so

handsome. God, I wish I was in your place."

"Your opinions would have changed," I remark,

picking up my sling bag from the bed.

"Besides you're lucky you get to do your dream job. I mean

Digital Manager for Bright Media? Hello, that's

huge!"

"But my boss isn't some handsome guy I would

drop my panties for in a second. He's a half-aged

dude with an eternal growl plastered twenty-four

seven."

"And my boss has an eternal scowl on his thirty-

one-year-old face. That's disturbing. I don't know

what would cost that man to smile once in a while.

I never saw him smile."

"For real, Emma. Your hormones are too strong for

my taste. If I was in your place, he would have had

me in one go. The way he lifts his eyebrow towards

the media is always a classic signal," Tia comments,

following me out of my room.

"Won't deny that. He does have very angry

eyebrows."

"Oh, I forgot to ask you." She turns to face me with

a strangely serious look on her face as she crosses

her arms over her chest. "Why didn't you tell me

that our lease has been paid in full? I thought it

would be months before that happens. Now I owe

you."

I go still at her words. I completely forgot about the

lease. There is no way he paid for that too. He

promised me he would stop interfering.

Tia and I had bought our apartment on a lease six

months ago after we graduated with our business

degrees. We were both lucky to have stumbled

upon each other on the day of the viewing of the 2-

BHK space. Since we both loved the space and

didn't have enough to get the full apartment, we

ended up making a deal between ourselves.

This was how our friendship started and as of now,

in this big city called LA, she is the only one I am

close enough to call a friend. I love the girl like

anything to lie to her.

But the lease? I can't tell her the truth.

"Oh yeah..." I shake my head awkwardly. "Yeah, I

paid in full. You don't have to pay me now, don't

worry. I got some money saved and decided to get

the burden off our heads."

"But you could have at least discussed it with me,

Emma," Tia complains. "This makes me feel so bad. I

would have contributed from my savings too.

Unable to decide what to say, I go for the option

which makes me not look like a sacrificial lamb.

"Well, you can just pay it to me." I shrug.

"Anyways, let's not talk about it now. You wanted

to go to the bar to celebrate and we'll be doing just

that. Not speaking of apartments and leases."

She gives me a pointed look which makes me

suspect that she in turn suspects something fishy. I

keep a giant smile on my face as she studies me

with inquisitive eyes.

"Fine,"

she says after a while. "But I'm paying you

soon."

"Can't wait," I grin shamelessly, hiding from her

the fact that I didn't pay anything at all.

He did.

The bar we go into has a plethora of customers and

the usual standard area has been converted into a

club where the music is jamming at its high. People

are crushed against each other, grinding and

kissing and licking. I wish I was here to do that

with someone. It has been such a long time since my last asshole boyfriend.

Matt had been all fun and nice - sunshine and

rainbows - until he had ended up slapping me in a

fit of rage. In return, I had kicked him in the balls

so hard with my heels that the dude ended up in

the hospital for a week.

I have never been that satisfied with choosing

violence.

Tia grabs my hand, pulling me to the end of the bar and towards the counter. We find two empty stools and quickly claim our seats, slapping our hands at the counter to call out for drinks. "Sex on the beach!" we both shout, making the bartender, a charming young man, smirk as he prepares our drinks. When he places them near us, we grab the glasses and clink them together. "Here's to new jobs and asshole bosses!" Tia makes a toast, swallowing a long sip of her drink. I follow her, wincing first and then drinking in the juicy feeling. "Oh Gosh... I love this place," I remark, pulling Tia to the dance floor with me. We dance together wildly, twisting our bodies and bobbing our heads. Men stare at us and we admire the attention, letting our hands run through our bodies in a seductive way. The lights mingle with blue and red, creating shadows on the floor. "I'm so happy for you, Emma!" Tia shouts, letting the people around us know how happy she is. In here, nobody minds our loud mouths and ludicrous moves. Here we are free from the constraints of life. This night is ours and we are going to make the best of it. Or at least that's what I think before a large figure walks past me, making me nearly stumble but before I can lose my balance, two strong arms grab me by my waist, pulling me firmly against a hard chest. "Thank you..." I smile as I look up and the smile falls instantly. With a tall body, sturdy muscles and a suit without creases, Eric Pierce's hardened face stares down at me with eyes so piercing blue that I gulp immediately, my eyes darting to find my friend only to see her in the arms of another guy as they both dance together. "Miss. Gold.." His grip around my waist tightens as he pulls me firmer against his chest, encasing me in the protection of his arms when two young boys pass us. "What are you doing here dancing alone?" I rest my palms on Mr. Pierce's chest, holding the lapels of his suit as I gaze at him. "I'm not alone, Mr. Pierce." I reply. "I came with my friend." "And where is your irresponsible friend, may I know?" "No, you may not." His expression hardens, but his eyes sparkle with mischief I have already become used to. Using the force of my hands on his chest, I push away from him, quickly wrapping my arms over my chest. Mr. Pierce's gaze immediately drifts down to my top where a V-cut neck gives a glimpse of my cleavage. He moves past that area of my body and looks at the crowded dance floor. Frowning, he puts a hand on my elbow, holding me gently and ushering me to a less crowded space. His touch makes my flesh give birth to goosebumps at the heat between us. I try to pull my elbow from him but his hold is tough to break. When we stop facing each other, he puts his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and stands tall. "Miss. Gold, you should know better than to waste your time partying tonight. Tomorrow is your first day at work and unfortunately, you seem to be already disappointing me." "We're not in the office." He narrows his eyes at me. "That I can see." Dark lights dance over his face, giving his roughly handsome visage an even handsome look. He is dressed in the same clothes I saw him wearing at the office but he has changed his gold watch for a platinum-plated one. It shines bright and one can easily guess that it costs thousands. A man like him should be visiting richer bars, not a common one as this visited by any other LA citizen. "Want me to buy you a drink, Miss. Gold?" he asks. "You're offering me a drink? After all that happened between us?" I raise an eyebrow in speculation. Mr. Pierce lets out a growl or a laugh, I can't distinguish at all. "Miss. Gold, believe me, nothing scandalous has happened between us..." His eyes fall to my outfit again, sliding up my legs in a curious way. "Yet." My skin flushes, heat filling me and making me increasingly aware of how close we are. He has his one hand on my elbow still and his eyes are fully concentrated on me. I see his face darken as he registers the closeness too. "Hmm... I think I'd rather choke on a melon than sleep with you, Mr. Pierce." His eyes widen and he releases me quickly, looking embarrassed for a second. "What makes you think I was talking about sex, Miss. Gold?" he says calmly. "I was only referring to all that might happen between us tomorrow once you apologize to me in front of my whole staff." laugh at his confidence, putting my hands behind my back and staring up at him "Mr. Pierce.." I begin. "I'm never apologizing to you and neither will I be disappointing you that easily. This job will be mine permanently no matter what you try otherwise." "That confident, Miss. Gold?" I smile, taking a step closer and raising my hands to his chest. His body tenses when my fingers brush up his suit until they find the top-most button of his white shirt. I release it from its hold slowly and then move my fingers down to release another. The first glimpse of his chest becomes visible, a light dust of hair scattered over a taut torso, and I crane my neck towards his face. The air around us tingles with tension, the epiphany of our closeness holding us in place, eyes locked to one another. "Never learned to be anything else, Mr. Pierce. Now, if you'll excuse me. I need to go to the washroom." As I turn to leave him, I catch a glimpse of his beautiful face where the lips happen to form just an illusion of a smile as he watches me walk away.

The bathroom mirrors reflect five faces of myself

back to me, showing me exactly how flushed I am

after that encounter with Mr. Pierce.

I know somewhere that I am crossing my lines

more than necessary by challenging my boss one

night before my workday. So far, by our two

conversations, I have managed to figure out that

Ryan Pierce has five different kinds of scowls.

Unfortunately, they all look the same and they are

all present on his face all the time.

This man has managed to make me more nervous

in a span of twelve hours than I have been my

whole life. Heck! I wasn't even nervous when I lost

my virginity to Braden Taylor in 10th grade.

I sigh at the mirror and then turn the tap on to

wash my face. I don't care about my makeup

anymore and if I keep myself adjusted, I will end

up drinking some more and a hangover isn't a good

thing early in the morning of your first day at work.

If I look worse, I will feel more comfortable leaving.

The cool water releases some tension in my nerves

and when I lift my head back up, my makeup is

mostly washed away, bringing my many freckles

visible to the eyes. Everything has been washed out

except for the waterproof eyeliner.

Thank Walmart for that too.

Releasing a sigh, I open the door to the washroom

to step out. Loud music greets my ears, and I see

people being even more drunk and crazier than

they were when I left the floor.

I look at the crowd to search for Tia and see her

making out with a guy on the dance floor. From

here, he looks kind of cute and I don't want to

interfere with her make-out session. Grinning at

her luck, I take out my phone and type a quick

message to her before sending it.

He's cute. Great catch.

I'm going home.

As I put my phone back into my bag, someone

collides with me pretty hard, sending me crashing

against a nearby wall. I see spots for seconds as my

vision darkens.

"Hey, watch out!" I yell, holding my head as it

spins.

The person who collided with me turns. He looks

big, old, and completely drunk. He even has his

saliva dripping down his mouth to his beard and is

carrying a bottle in his hand.

It's disgusting.

"Fucking bitch! Standing.. in the way," he growls at

me and steps forward.

I instantly back against the wall when he steps closer and extends an arm to grab me.

"Hey! Move away!" I try to walk past him but he

blocks my way and brings his smelly drunken face

close to my own.

His hands are on my arms, hooking into my

neckline as he tries to tear it open.

"You'll do for tonight," he slurs, dripping booze

down his mouth,

I try to reach for my sling bag where I carry a

pepper spray always but his body pushing against

mine leaves me without space. My arm is crammed

between his body and the wall and the pressure of

his weight knocks the breath out of my lungs.

I don't even realize when I start to cry but as I push

against his chest hard, I find fat tears moving down

my cheeks.

"Let me go!" I sob, crying against his assaults.

No one seems to be coming to my rescue. Everyone

is drunk and it is late and my best friend is lost in

kissing. No, this can't be happening. I can't be

getting raped in the middle of a party.

As the man reaches for the hem of my skirt, to push

it up, a hand slaps on his T-shirt, pulling him off

me in one swift force.

I gasp, feeling the relief of his body being lifted

from me before my sight clears, and I see the

person who saved me.

Eric Pierce pushes the guy against another wall

and as I watch, his fist comes up, hitting the man

hard against his cheek. The force is so strong that

the man falls to the floor, slurping and becoming

unconscious within a second.

"Oh my God!" I exclaim, unable to believe that

someone's one punch can have so much power.

I look up at Mr. Pierce as he releases his hold from

the guy's T-shirt and corrects the creases in his suit

like a gentleman. A few drunken people who had

been paying attention to the scene cheer at him

before walking off.

He turns to me and I find his strong gaze keeping

me rooted in place.

"Miss. Gold, are you okay?" he asks, taking a step

toward me.

"Yeah...I think I am," as I speak the words, my head

hurts and the floor beneath my feet rocks.

I stumble, falling, but his arms catch me and before

I can stop him, Mr. Pierce is scooping me up in his

arms swiftly.

"Hold on, Miss. Gold. Seems like you have got a

concussion. Would you like me to take you to the hospital?"

I don't know what he expects me to answer because

my brain has completely stopped functioning.

From here, I can only see his deep eyes gazing into

mine with concern and the feel of his hand under

my bare knees. The skin burns so much at the heat

of his contact that it feels like I would be left with

an imprint of his hand tomorrow.

My arms are around his neck and I am unconsciously staring at his lips.

"Miss. Gold?" His deep voice knocks me back to my

senses and I look around us to see the floor

completely packed.

No one is paying attention to either of us or to the

man who is knocked out flat on the floor.

"No, thanks..." I blurt, my voice sounding lazily

drunk. My cheeks flush in embarrassment. "I'd like

to go home, please. Would you call me a taxi?"

I request him like it is a casual favor from a

stranger and not from someone who is literally in

his arms. My mind is too dizzy to ask him to put me

down right now. Don't know what other morons I

will end up encountering if he does.

Mr. Pierce looks at me darkly and then he adjusts

me in his arms, such that my head is lying on his

shoulder. With a strong flex of his muscles, he

begins walking while I shamelessly lie as a

caterpillar in a cocoon. My hold around his neck tightens, bringing me close to his musky scent of

beer and sandalwood.

He walks us out of the bar but instead of calling for

a taxi, he begins to carry me towards a car.

An Audi

"Umm.Mr. Pierce?" I murmur against his

shoulder.

"Yes?" he asks, continuing to maintain that scowl.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Depends on where you live, Miss. Gold."

"Where do I live?"

He stops in front of his car at my question and

raises an amused eyebrow at me. Even from this

angle, the eyebrow looks angry.

Very very angry

"Miss. Gold..." he speaks calmly. "You've managed

to get under my skin in the last twelve hours by

insulting me, making fun of me, challenging me,

and now getting wounded. Do you wish to piss off

any further while you're literally in my arms?"

I press my lips to a thin line. What a rude man!

Shut up, Emma. This rude man is taking you home.

"I didn't ask you to carry me."

"It was either this or leaving you there to be

trampled on by drunken feet. Would you have

preferred that, Miss. Gold?"

"No." I huff."

"Take me home."

I see him muttering something to himself as he

pulls open the door to the passenger seat of his car.

With his strong hands, he puts me inside and his

knuckles brush over the sliver of exposed skin of

my belly when my crop top hitches up. We both

inhale a breath, me out of awkwardness, him I have

no idea why.

He hooks the seat belt around my torso. Shutting

the door, he walks around the car, opens the other

side, and gets in. As he starts the engine, he takes

another look at me and his frown deepens.

He is either disgusted or troubled. I do believe it is

the first. I look hideous.

"Which way?" he asks.

"Drive straight," I say and then mumble the rest of

the address as I lay my head back in the seat,

closing my eyes.

The hum of the engine soothes me a little as he

drives the car and soon, I get lost in dreams with the quiet groan of the air coming through the open

windows luring me in.

I open my eyes when the car stops with a jerk.

Looking at Mr. Pierce, I observe him as he gets out

of the car and walks around to my side. I watch like

a helpless child as he opens the door and stands

there, still frowning at me.

"Will you walk or do I have to carry you again?" he

grumbles the question out, taking a look at his

watch.

I don't know what's gotten into me but I end up

smiling at him and lifting my hands in the air like a

child.

"Carry me up, please."

My boss's eyes widen, his eyebrows raising as he

takes my posture in. His face changes color for a

second, turning a shade pink but it doesn't miss my

eyes.

"Should have taken you to the hospital," he

murmurs. "You must have hit that head pretty

hard."

He leans down to release my seatbelt. Hooking his

arms under my knees and back, he picks me into

his arms again and I lay my head on his strong

shoulder. I swear, this man is made of hot muscles I would like to lick someday.

"Apartment 250," I tell him as he shuts the door

and walks towards the elevator of our apartment

building.

He keeps his hold on me tight as the elevator shuts

and then opens again after some time, bringing

into view my floor. I point towards my apartment

when he steps out and hear him grumble

something again as he walks towards it.

Absent-mindedly, I pull the key out of my sling bag

and open the door for him. Mr. Pierce enters the

apartment and walks to the couch in the hall. He

doesn't speak a word as he drops me flat on it.

The moment the soft cushion greets me, I twist and

turn, feeling sleepy.

"When will your friend be back?" he asks as he

takes hold of my feet and starts opening my heels

with gentle fingers.

His touch is warm, making my toes tingle.

"She won't be back," I whisper, eyes shutting

slowly. "She got a cute guy. She's going to get

banged tonight."

I don't even flush as I speak the words. I hear a soft

laugh and look to find Mr. Pierce chuckling to

himself.

So he does laugh.

"You've no control over that tongue, do you?"

I turn to the ceiling, smiling softly and then wider.

"No," I answer as Mr. Pierce gets up and starts to

unbutton his suit. "What are you doing?"

I suddenly become anxious but don't find the

strength to say something more as sleep starts to

get me deep. He just shakes his head as he gets his

sturdy arms out of the suit.

He leans down and places the suit over my body,

smiling softly.

"Have a good night, Emma," he whispers close to

my ear.

"You have a long day tomorrow."

As if my body follows his orders too, I quickly lose

myself in a deep slumber.