Escaping His Chains: The Ruthless CEO's Secret Lover

"Relax."

A man's hand softly brushed Joanna Peters' collarbone, gliding along her body's contours.

A faint moan escaped her.

Joanna nibbled her lip, her voice trembling. "Anthony, we're at the office..."

Pressed against the expansive floor-to-ceiling window, her face, now a shade of deep red, mirrored back at her.

She attempted to move away, but Anthony Dixon's hands, familiar with every curve, teased her sensitively.

Her delicate body shook with intensity.

The heat of the moment seemed to fuel his desire even more.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Despite the closed blinds, her anxiety spiked.

Only ten minutes remained until the morning meeting. Several senior executives were already gathered in the conference room, secretaries bustling about just outside.

"Where's Joanna?"

"She was just here. Maybe she went to check the equipment in the conference room? Let's go."

A lump formed in Joanna's throat, the fear of being discovered overwhelming her.

She clasped a hand over her mouth, fearful of letting any sound escape.

Yet, the man looming behind her was relentless, his teasing and tormenting nearly pushing her to the brink of crying out.

"Anthony, you've lost your mind..." she whispered, her voice trembling.

In the reflection of the glass, Anthony's robust upper body and his cold, emotionless eyes were apparent. He seemed to relish her combined arousal and panic.

"When you pleaded to be my lover, you must have known a day like this would come." Anthony smirked, straightening up.

Waves of humiliation and embarrassment crashed over her. Joanna's eyes brimmed with tears that she could no longer contain.

The tears traced paths down her delicate cheeks, falling into her mouth and tasting unbearably bitter.

Three years prior, the Peters family's business endeavors were systematically sabotaged, and her father, Henrik Peters, saw his shares steadily diluted. Consumed by corporate affairs, he suffered a stroke at the office of Peters Group, leaving him paralyzed to this day.

On the same day, her brother Kyson Peters was arrested. In a matter of three hours, evidence was gathered, a trial was conducted, and he entered a guilty plea. At the peak of his youth, he received a sixteen-year sentence.

From behind the stark visitation glass in prison, he had instructed Joanna, "Look after the Peters Group for Dad."

Their mother had died young, and their stepmother, Mabel Peters, a woman of scholarly lineage from a small town, possessed a gentle and refined air but knew nothing of running a business. When disaster struck the Peters family, all she could manage was to weep beside her husband's bed.

The Peters family was struggling to survive amid the onslaught from more dominant clans, clinging to their existence by a thread.

Joanna, only eighteen at that time, shouldered all their burdens.

She soothed her stepmother and then ventured alone to the Dixon Group.

Fueled by a few drinks for courage, Joanna approached Anthony with boldness. She perched on his lap, looped her arms around his neck, and ventured, "Anthony, are you looking for a woman?"

Anthony, preoccupied with analyzing the Peters Group's shares, gently removed her hand and asked with a sly grin, "Which woman are you referring to?"

Once the beloved jewel of the Peters family, Joanna was the epitome of purity and innocence.

Yet, on that day, she transformed into a figure of tantalizing allure. Tilting her head back, she planted a soft kiss on the corner of Anthony's mouth and whispered, "Me."

With a chuckle, Anthony brushed the lipstick from his lips with his fingertip and playfully prodded, "And then?"

"Take me," she implored.

Shedding her coat, Joanna revealed striking lace lingerie in black and red - her usual demureness replaced by a blend of shyness and seduction, rendering her utterly captivating.

Without a word, Anthony shut his documents.

His gaze fixed on Joanna with predatory intensity, as if ready to consume her whole.

That day, they had sex.

In a moment of passion, Joanna clung to his muscular frame and pleaded, "Anthony, help me."

That night, she forged a devilish alliance, sacrificing herself to salvage the Peters Group.

"Alright. Join my company as my secretary," he proposed.

From that night forward, their affair was shrouded in secrecy.

By day, Joanna was the poised and capable assistant, flawlessly handling even the most demanding tasks Anthony set before her.

As dusk fell, she transformed into his tender and compliant lover, their nightly encounters confined to the shadows of his bedroom.

She was intimately acquainted with his every preference, always reacting in ways that brought him immense satisfaction.

Their physical intimacy was deeply intertwined, a testament to their seamless connection.

Yet, this intimacy had its limits. To Anthony, she was merely an object of desire, destined never to step into the light of public recognition.

"Stay focused."

When they got intimate, his actions were deliberate and forceful, yet he managed to maintain control, always taking pleasure in her reactions.

It wasn't until a rush of warmth flooded through her that she snapped out of the trance.

He pulled away abruptly.

Joanna's body slumped against the icy marble floor, her stunning features flushed and mirrored in the glossy surface, marks of their encounter littered across her skin.

By the time she gathered herself, Anthony was back behind his desk, dressed impeccably, seemingly unaffected by the recent intimacy.

He was the third child of the Dixon family, raised under the stern gaze of his grandfather, Nigel Dixon. Bearing a striking resemblance to a younger Nigel, Anthony's features were sharper, his decisions more resolute. Highly esteemed by Nigel, he had expanded the Dixon Group's reach, from traditional sectors to the cutting edge of electronic information.

At that time, he was only twenty-one.

Seated in the chair, he lit a cigarette after their intimate encounter and exhaled slowly. With a tap on the stack of documents before him, he offered, "The Peters family is bidding on some land in the city's south. Consider it yours without any competition."

It was supposed to be her reward for the sex.

"No need," Joanna responded firmly.

Her skirt was ripped, and her pink lace underwear lay in tatters. She headed to the lounge to fetch a fresh set. "Let's wait for the bid results."

She was aware that without Anthony's influence, the Peters family stood little chance at winning.

Yet, having endured the hardest times, she no longer wanted to view their relationship as merely transactional. The only reason she remained with Anthony was her love for him.

"Don't worry. She won't find out about you," Anthony murmured.

He was determined to keep her concealed, his eternal secret.

Could it be because she bore a striking resemblance to his first love?

For a brief moment, Joanna was uncertain whether she despised Anthony more or the fact that she looked like someone he once loved.

She had to accept the harsh reality. She had fallen for a man at the pinnacle of power.

Eventually, he would marry and have children with someone of his own social standing, like Madisyn Tucker, the heiress to the Proria Group.

A month earlier, they had exchanged engagement rings. Both Anthony and Madisyn had known each other since childhood, and she was not only his first love but also a highly sought-after designer, which made her an ideal partner for him in every respect.

Rumors circulated that at the age of seven, Anthony had been kidnapped, and it was Madisyn who had rescued him. And what about Joanna? She was just his hidden lover.

In the quiet office, Joanna straightened her sleek black business skirt, securing the zipper and adjusting her outfit as her lips remained colorless.

She had been coerced into this role.

Her dignity intact, she affirmed, "I've told you before, I'll be a lover but never a wrecker of homes. Since you're to be married, this must end. I've drafted my resignation. Once this project wraps up, I'm leaving."

Even in darkness, Joanna held to her principles.

Anthony, his expression icy, extinguished his cigarette in a crystal ashtray and retorted sharply, "Joanna, you don't have the power to stop this game. Do you understand?"

Adorned in a tailored black suit, Joanna exuded an elegant yet compelling aura, her long legs accentuated by stiletto heels, making her a striking figure amongst the secretaries.

She murmured a subdued "Yes," then retreated to the restroom to freshen up her makeup.

As the office door swung shut behind the departing Anthony, Joanna slumped against the restroom sink, overwhelmed.

Without warning, a surge of nausea overwhelmed her, causing her to grasp the sink tightly as she began to gag violently.

Joanna slipped into a fresh dress and refreshed her makeup before sliding open the glass door. Her colleague, Lillian Mitchell, rushed toward her, clutching her arm. "Mr. Dixon received a call and rushed out before we could even wrap up the meeting."

A flutter of depression passed through Joanna.

The timing was critical. It was the close of the year, and senior executives from all of Dixon Group's branches had converged at the headquarters for their project presentations and the yearly financial summary. The stakes of the meeting were high.

Anthony typically didn't let personal issues interfere with business, especially not during crucial discussions.

Unless it involved her...

"Who was on the phone?" Joanna inquired.

"A woman. I couldn't catch everything over the phone, but she sounded quite distressed, lamenting about feeling neglected by Mr. Dixon, accusing him of ignoring her, and mentioning something about wanting to move abroad," Lillian explained.

It had to be Madisyn.

Ever since her engagement to Anthony, she had proven to be quite demanding.

Whether it was insisting on cakes from a specific bakery on the south side or requiring Anthony to stay up all night for comfort, her demands were incessant.

And Anthony consistently complied with her whims.

Lillian looked panicked. "Joanna, what should we do?"

Anthony had just left behind a room dominated by stern and shrewd seasoned businessmen.

As Joanna stepped through the doorway, the sound of shattering glass halted her - a crystal ashtray had met the wall, breaking into fragments.

Lillian flinched.

Joanna's eyes swept over the scene. Her features set into a steely resolve, her authority, honed by her experiences with Anthony, palpable. "Mr. Dixon isn't here. Nonetheless, the meeting will go on. Someone will be assigned to review the project data. Please forward your reports to my email, and Mr. Dixon will address them when possible. Furthermore..."

Her eyes narrowed, and she pressed the issue. "Mr. Williams, if you're in a hurry, you're welcome to leave and let others present their reports first."

Edwin Williams, the head of the investment department, had clinched two major deals this year, catapulting his department to the forefront of the company. He was eager to earn recognition from Anthony, but had not yet had the opportunity.

Now, to be taunted by a secretary? That seemed absurd.

Bolstered by his recent successes, he snapped back, "Who do you think you are? You're just a secretary. How dare you assert authority over the investment department? Do you really consider yourself that important? Expecting reports in Mr. Dixon's absence? Don't overestimate your role."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. "Yeah, since when does a director report to a secretary?"

The tension in the room was palpable.

"Fine, make sure to note down his exact words and pass them to Mr. Dixon," Joanna directed the meeting recorder firmly. "Document every word."

The recorder continued to type diligently.

Edwin knew that if Anthony heard about this, all of his efforts could be dismissed.

"Miss Peters, this is crossing the line," Edwin protested as the sound of typing filled the room again.

"What the hell do you want? I didn't say I wouldn't report. Why make it so awkward?" His anxiety was evident as he faced the ongoing pressure.

Joanna smiled calmly and gestured for him to report. "Please."

Surprisingly, Joanna successfully controlled the situation.

In the meeting room, the principal seat remained vacant, symbolizing the absence of their boss. Yet, everyone diligently reported to the unoccupied chair.

Off to the side, Lillian discreetly shot Joanna a supportive thumbs up. "It's a good thing you're here," she whispered.

Joanna offered a gentle smile, her eyes briefly flicking to her phone which displayed a message from Anthony, sent just fifteen minutes ago.

"Carry on with the meeting. I only need the data."

Anthony seemed to have forgotten that she was a mere secretary and never thought about how she could manage these senior executives.

Through the digital exchange, his decisive tone was almost tangible.

She typed back promptly, "The documents will be in your email thirty minutes after we wrap up here."

The message was seen almost immediately - read, yet unanswered.

His priorities were clearly elsewhere, likely with his beloved.

With the meeting under Lillian's watchful eye, Joanna proceeded to the HR department to submit her pre-drafted resignation letter. The process was unexpectedly swift.

Soon enough, whispers began to circulate throughout the office corridors.

"Joanna, Mr. Dixon's personal secretary, is resigning."