FILTHY LITTLE ASSISTANT

Italy was beautiful. Like, stupid beautiful. The kind you see in movies and think can't be real, but here I was, walking down actual stone streets with designer shops everywhere and people who looked like they'd never had a bad hair day in their lives.

And then there was me.

My suitcase had a broken wheel that made noise with every step, my blouse was wrinkled from the plane, and my feet already hurt in these cheap shoes. I was just some girl from Texas who probably shouldn't be here.

But I needed this job.

The PA position seemed too good to be true when I found it online. Good pay, free room and board, a fresh start where nobody knew me. The description was kind of vague, just said "personal assistant to a prominent Italian businessman," but I wasn't in a position to be picky. I sent my resume and somehow they actually flew me out for an interview.

The address led me to this massive villa that made my stomach drop. This wasn't just a house. It was huge ,three stories with old stone walls covered in ivy and these big windows that looked almost black. The iron gates were already open, like they were waiting for me.

I checked my phone for the fifth time. This was definitely the place.

My heart was racing as I walked up the gravel drive. Each step felt like a mistake. I was going to be late. I was already out of place. This whole thing was going to fall apart before it even started, and I'd be back in Texas, back to nothing, back to proving everyone right who said I'd never make it on my own.

The front door was huge, made of dark wood with fancy carvings all over it. Before I could even knock, it opened.

A security guard stood there, and honestly, I forgot how to speak for a second. He was tall, like really tall, with broad shoulders that looked perfectly well with his suit. The goatee, the way his eyes traveled down my body slowly... damn. Even the security here was hot as hell.

"I'm here for the interview," I managed, my Texas accent suddenly feeling twice as thick. "I'm sorry, I know I'm cutting it close, I just"

They're expecting you." His voice was smooth, unimpressed. He stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter. "I'll take your bag."

He grabbed my suitcase before I could protest.

The inside made me feel even worse about myself. Everything looked expensive, old paintings, marble floors. It smelled like leather and money. The furniture looked like museum pieces.

The security guard led me through a corridor, then stopped. "Upstairs. Someone will meet you in the waiting room."

He left me at the base of a staircase.

I climbed, my cheap shoes clicking against marble, and found myself in a hallway with two identical doors. Both were dark wood, both were closed. Neither had any indication of which was the waiting room.

My phone had no signal. The hallway was empty. I was scared walking through the hallway.

I stood there, my hands shaking. This was already going wrong. Panic was creeping up my throat. I should have asked which door. I was probably picking the wrong one. They were probably watching me on cameras right now, judging me. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. I didn't belong here. Everyone was going to see that the second I opened my mouth.

The door on the left looked a little less scary, so I picked that one.

The room was huge, way bigger than my whole apartment back home. Big windows, a massive bed with dark sheets. Everything looked expensive and masculine..

And standing in the middle of it, fresh from a shower with water still dripping down his skin, was a man.

Completely naked.

My brain stopped working.

He was tall, like really tall, with the kind of body that made my mouth go dry. Broad shoulders, muscular chest, abs that looked carved. His dark hair was wet and slicked back, and water was sliding down his body in a way that made me want to trace it with my tongue. Down his chest, over those abs, lower and lower until-

Oh God.

He was huge. Like, really big. Thick and long in a way that made my pussy clench just looking at it. I couldn't stop staring. Heat flooded between my legs instantly, I was getting wet, actually wet, just from seeing him naked. My nipples went hard against my bra, my breathing turned shallow, and this ache started building low in my belly.

I wanted to drop to my knees right there. I wanted to wrap my hands around him, take him in my mouth, feel him get even harder on my tongue. The thought made me bite back a moan.

This man could absolutely wreck me, and God, I wanted him to.

Oh God.

Heat spread through my whole body. A sound escaped my throat, half gasp, half moan, and I couldn't stop it.

My mind went straight to the filthiest places. On my knees with his dick in my mouth. Him grabbing my hair, forcing himself deeper. That voice telling me to swallow every inch.

"I'm so sorry!" The words burst out too loud, too panicked. I spun toward the door, my face burning hot enough to catch fire. "I'm lost, I didn't mean to,I shouldn't have"

"Stop."

One word. Low, authoritative, accented.

My feet stopped. I couldn't move. Something about his voice just made my body obey automatically.

"Where do you think you're going, lady?"

His footsteps got closer. Slow. My heart was pounding. I stared at the door handle but I couldn't make myself grab it.

"Turn around."

I turned before I even thought about it. I just did it.

He still hadn't covered himself. Just stood there, arms crossed, looking at me with these dark eyes. He looked amused, but there was something dangerous there too..

"You must be the new girl." His accent was thick, Italian. "The one they hired for the PA position."

My mouth opened but nothing came out. I had no idea what to say.

He smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

"Welcome to the Marchetti estate."

I sat in the waiting room forever, trying to calm down. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. My whole body was still buzzing from seeing him naked, from that voice, from the way he looked at me.

The door opened.

He walked in and I froze. He'd put on clothes, black pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was still wet. He looked hot. Really hot.

This was my boss. The man I'd just seen completely naked was the man I was supposed to work for.

I was so screwed.

"Jolene, right?" He sat down across from me, leaning back like he owned the place.

"Yes, sir." The words just came out. My voice was shaking.

"Sir." He said it slowly. That smile again, the one that wasn't nice. "I like that. Keep calling me that."

I just nodded.

He looked at me slowly. His eyes went from my face to my chest, my waist, my legs, then back up. It felt like he was undressing me again.

"Stand up."

I stood immediately. My legs felt weak but I did it.

"Come here."

I walked over to him. He was still sitting, so when I got close, I was standing between his legs. Too close. I could smell his cologne and it was making me dizzy.

"Closer."

I took another step. My knees almost touched his.

He reached out and his hand wrapped around my wrist. His grip was firm, not hurting but definitely in control. His thumb pressed against my pulse point.

"Your heart is racing." His voice was low. "Are you nervous, Jolene?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

Because I wanted his hands all over me. Because I was thinking about him bending me over, spreading my legs, fucking me hard. Because my pussy was already wet from standing near him.

"Because I want this job," I lied. Sort of.

"Hmm." He pulled me closer until I was right between his thighs. His other hand went to my hip, his thumb moving in slow circles on my skirt.

My breath stopped.

"This job requires complete obedience." He stared right at me. "Complete trust. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Prove it." His hand slid from my hip to the small of my back, pressing me even closer. "Don't move."

His other hand let go of my wrist and moved up my arm. Over my shoulder. And I bit my lip hard.

"You walked into my bedroom earlier." His fingers kept moving. "Saw me naked. Did you like what you saw?"

Oh God.

"Answer me."

"Yes, sir." My voice was barely a whisper.

"What did you like about it?"

My face got hot. I couldn't say it out loud. Couldn't tell him I'd thought about getting on my knees, taking him in my mouth, letting him-

"I asked you a question, Jolene."

"Everything," I breathed. "I liked everything."

His smile got wider. His hand moved down between my breasts, not quite touching. Close enough to make me want it bad.

"You made a sound." His voice was darker now. "When you looked at me. Do you remember?"

I remembered. That embarrassing moan I made.

"Yes, sir."

"Make it again."

"What?"

"You heard me." His hand pressed harder against my back. "Make that sound again. Right now."

I couldn't. Not just like that.

His other hand moved lower, over my stomach. Not where I wanted it, but close.

A whimper came out.

"Good girl." His voice got lower. "You follow orders well."

Position. The word made me think of him bending me over. Pushing me down. Telling me how he wanted me.

"Now." He let go of me completely and leaned back. "Tell me why I should hire you."

I stumbled backward, almost falling. My whole body was on fire. I could barely think straight.

"I..I work hard. I'm organized. I can"

"Boring." He cut me off. "Everyone says that. Tell me something real."

Something real. What did I have that was real?

"I need this job." My voice cracked. "I have nothing. No money. My family doesn't give a shit about me. I'm broke. I've got nowhere to go if this doesn't work out. I'll do anything to keep this job. Anything."

He looked at me for a second.

"Whatever it takes?"

"Yes, sir."

He stood up. He was so much taller than me. He stepped closer, backing me up until I hit the wall. His arm went up beside my head, trapping me.

"This job will push you." His face was so close. "Test you. Break you down. Are you ready for that?"

I should say no. I should leave. This wasn't normal. This wasn't right.

"Yes, sir."

He looked at my lips. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to.

He stepped back.

"There's something you should know." His tone changed. He sounded amused now. "I'm not the one hiring you."

My brain stopped working.

"What?"

"I said, I'm not the one hiring you." He walked back to his chair and sat down like nothing had happened. "My partner is. He'll be interviewing you shortly."

Partner.

Wait. What?

"You're not..you're not my boss?"

"No, Jolene. I'm not." That smile again. "But that was fun, wasn't it?"

I felt so stupid. He'd been playing with me the whole time. Testing me. Making me think.

"He's going to ask if anything happened while you waited." He walked toward the door. "Tell him no. Unless you want to explain why you let a stranger touch you like that."

He opened the door and paused.

"Good luck with your interview."

Then he was gone.

I stood there, shaking. My body still wanted him.

I had no idea what the hell just happened.

The door opened again.

A different man walked in. He looked young, maybe thirty, with dark hair and expensive glasses. He wore a nice suit and walked like he owned everything.

This had to be the real boss.

Behind him came the naked man. Now fully dressed in a different suit, dark blue this time. He didn't look at me. Just walked to the side of the room and leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

My stomach dropped.

He was going to watch. He was going to sit there and watch me interview while he knew what happened between us.

"Jolene." The man sat down behind a desk I hadn't seen before. "I'm Marco Marchetti. Sit."

I sat. My hands were shaking so I folded them in my lap.

Marco opened a folder. My resume, probably. He looked at it for a while without saying anything.

The silence was killing me.

"You're from Texas." He didn't look up.

"Yes, sir."

"No experience as a personal assistant."

"No, sir, but I'm a fast learner"

"No references from previous employers."

My mouth went dry. "I...I worked at a diner back home, but it closed down. I can try to find"

"Why Italy?" He looked at me. His eyes were cold. "Why this job?"

I glanced at the naked man. He was watching me with that same amused expression.

"I needed a change," I said. "A fresh start."

"Running from something?"

"No, I just"

"Financial troubles? Legal issues? Failed relationships?"

"No, nothing like that, I just wanted"

"You just wanted what, Jolene?" He leaned back. "To come to another country with nothing and expect someone to give you a job?"

Each word hurts.

"I'm willing to work hard," I said quietly. "I'll do whatever you need."

"Whatever I need." He repeated it like it was funny. "That's what they all say."

The naked man shifted. I could feel him watching me.

"Tell me, Jolene, why should I hire you?"

I wasn't. We both knew it.

"I'm... I'm organized. I pay attention to details. I follow instructions well."

"Do you?" Marco's eyebrow went up. "You couldn't even find the right waiting room earlier."

My face got hot. He knew. Of course he knew.

"I'm sorry about that, I was"

"Lost?" He cut me off. "Confused? Can't even follow simple directions?"

I couldn't speak. My throat felt tight.

"This job needs someone who can handle pressure, make decisions, and be professional." He closed the folder. "I don't think that's you."

The words hurt. I knew this was a long shot, but hearing him say it made it real.

"Please," I heard myself say. "Just give me a chance. One chance to prove myself."

"A chance." He stood up. "You've already had a chance, Jolene. You wasted it the moment you walked into the wrong room."

He walked toward the door.

The interview was over. Just like that.

I sat there, frozen. This couldn't be it. I'd come all this way. I had nothing to go back to.

"Mr. Marchetti, please"

"Enzo will show you out." He gestured to the naked man.

Enzo. So that was his name.

Marco left without another word.

I stood up. My legs felt weak. Enzo got off the wall and walked over.

"Come on," he said quietly.

"I messed up." My voice cracked. "I really messed up."

"You did."

"Is there any way I can talk to him again? Explain?"

"No." He opened the door. "He's made his decision."

I followed him into the hallway. My eyes were getting blurry. I wasn't going to cry. Not in front of him.

"I have nowhere to go," I said. "I used all my money to get here."

Enzo stopped walking. He turned to look at me.

"That's not my problem."

"I know. I just said " My voice broke. "I just needed you to know."

He looked at me for a second. Something changed in his face, but it was gone fast.

"The car will take you back to the airport." He started walking again. "Your flight leaves in three hours."

That was it. Three hours and I'd be back in Texas with nothing. No job. No money. No future.

We reached the front door. The same security guard from earlier was there. He didn't look at me. He just handed me my suitcase.

"Wait here," Enzo said. "The driver will come get you."

He turned to leave.

"Thank you," I said. I don't know why. Maybe because he was the last person I'd see before everything fell apart.

He paused. "For what?"

"For not telling him. About earlier."

Enzo's mouth curved into that smile. Not nice, but not cruel either.

"Who says I didn't?"

Then he was gone.

I stood there in the entrance of this big house, alone. The security guard ignored me. Everything was quiet except my heart breaking.

I'd failed. Totally failed.

A black car pulled up outside.

Time to go home to nothing.