I lay there on the couch, naked, c*m still leaking from my sore p***y, my body completely wrecked from the endless night of f*****g.
Damon had just gone to the kitchen to get water, and for the first time since signing that contract, I had a moment alone with my thoughts.
Something didn’t feel right.
I reached for my phone with shaky hands and opened the contract PDF again. This time, I read every single line carefully — not just the salary and benefits, but the fine print, the addendums, the clauses I had skimmed in my desperation.
My blood turned to ice.
"Christ! there was no real job."
The entire “Executive Assistant” position was fake. The company email address, the interview schedule, the fake HR documents — all of it had been created by Damon. The only real, binding document wa
