He Regrets, I Never Return

Against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the CEO's office, overlooking the neon-lit city, Rowan Lavien was pressed against the cold glass, at Kingsley FitzRoy's mercy.

No one would imagine that Kingsley—the sole heir of Emerald City's FitzRoy family, who took over the entire FitzRoy Group at such a young age and controlled half the city's economy—could be this unhinged in private.

Rowan braced one hand against the glass, the other clamped over her mouth, desperate to stay silent.

Even though she knew it was one-way glass and no one in the building across could see her disheveled state, she was still terrified.

Every time someone looked this way, she felt like she was being violated in front of an audience.

"You're clenching so tight. You clearly love this. Make some noise." Kingsley's command was ice-cold.

A light slap landed on her rear, and shame flooded through her entire body.

His breath, slightly ragged and scorching hot, brushed against her ear.

Kingsley's large hands gripped Rowan's slender waist brutally, lifting and dropping her again and again—each thrust deeper, more violent than the last.

"No, stop!" Rowan couldn't hold back her scream.

But Kingsley only grew more frenzied, his movements increasingly wild.

He pulled out completely, then slammed back in without pause. Every stroke hit her most sensitive spot with devastating precision, drowning her in unbearable pleasure. Rowan was reduced to tears, begging for mercy, her body trembling, her mind blank except for the terror of that overwhelming sensation.

The pristine glass reflected her wrecked appearance—and his face. Kingsley's face: cold, devastatingly handsome, with eyes like deep pools, bottomless and dark.

"Remember your place. You're a kept woman. If I catch you laughing and chatting with Ryan Collins again, I'll make him watch while I fuck you until you're dripping."

The crude words made Rowan's face burn with humiliation and defiance.

What right did Kingsley have to control her like this? Ryan was just her supervisor. They'd only chatted a few times, and Kingsley had already branded it into his memory!

"Answer me." When she didn't respond, Kingsley grabbed her chin and forced her face toward him, clearly displeased.

Rowan's eyes were red and wet. She hated being controlled, but the contract she'd signed herself left her no choice.

Her voice trembled as she finally gave in. "I remember."

Satisfied with her answer, Kingsley brought her to another climax effortlessly before pulling out and heading to the bathroom.

He was cold and controlled, like a machine. Even at the brink, he never finished without protection.

Rowan collapsed into the chair, staring at Kingsley's tall, muscular back in a daze.

Five years apart. That boy who used to look at her with pure adoration had grown up—and changed.

She lowered her head, smoothing down her rumpled dress, trying to cover the humiliating marks scattered across her body.

Moments later, Kingsley emerged. His expensive tailored suit draped over him with effortless elegance, the sapphire cufflinks catching the light and making him look even more untouchable.

"Tonight, we continue."

His tone was casual, like he was addressing a pet he found satisfactory. "Stay home like a good girl. I'll take you out tomorrow."

Rowan's heart sank. "I have work tomorrow."

The design project she'd been following for three months was finally at its critical stage.

Kingsley let out a derisive laugh. "Rowan, are you confused about what your job actually is? You really think you're a secretary?"

Rowan's face turned instantly pale, drained of all color.

To put it nicely, she was his private secretary.

In reality, she was his kept mistress.

Her only job was to stay by his side and be available whenever he wanted her.

Her silence irritated Kingsley. He sneered. "Get out."

Rowan had no objections. She wanted nothing more than to escape the office reeking of sex.

After making sure no one was outside, she opened the door and returned to the secretarial department.

"Ms. Lavien, are you okay? The CEO looked so scary when he called you in earlier." A new junior secretary studied Rowan cautiously.

Rowan forced a tight smile. "I'm fine. Thanks."

Thanks to Kingsley, the secretarial department was the only place she could relax. Her shoulders, held rigid with false strength, finally slumped.

Five years ago.

Back when she was still the daughter of the Lavien family, real estate moguls, her birthday party was attended by all of Emerald City's elite.

At the time, Kingsley hadn't yet been acknowledged by the FitzRoy family. He was just an ordinary poor student.

Rowan remembered that day. Kingsley wore a white T-shirt and plain jeans. His handsome young face carried a smile that was clean and gentle. His eyes were so bright—when he looked at her, it was like they held an entire sea of stars.

He held out a necklace he'd bought with months of part-time wages. "Rowan, happy birthday."

She didn't take it. She just looked down at him.

His anticipation turned to nervousness, his voice tinged with cautious hope. "You… don't like it? I can go pick something else—"

"No need."

Rowan finally reached out, pinching the delicate chain between her fingers.

Then she let go.

The silver necklace fell into the dust.

"Kingsley, you're just an orphan with no parents. You think I'd fall in love with you over some cheap necklace? Stop dreaming."

Kingsley stared at her in disbelief, his eyes turning red. "Rowan, do you mean that? Is that really what you think?"

Rowan smiled with contempt. "What else? Don't be stupid. I was just messing around with you."

Something shattered in Kingsley's eyes. He said nothing. Finally, he looked at her one last time—long and deep—then turned and walked away, his back straight, never once looking back.

Kingsley was undoubtedly excellent and proud. Her words had crushed his dignity completely.

He would never come looking for her again.

A few years later, the real estate industry took a sharp downturn. After several failed rounds of financing, the Lavien family declared bankruptcy.

Rowan, once a pampered heiress, was left with nothing but a mountain of debt and her mother lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

After hitting wall after wall, she received a job offer from FitzRoy Group.

Private Secretary to the CEO.

Five years later, in that top-floor office overlooking half the city, she saw Kingsley again.

The man acknowledged by the FitzRoy family. The CEO of FitzRoy Group, known to everyone in Emerald City. And her ex-boyfriend—Kingsley.

"Ms. Lavien." Kingsley sat behind his massive desk, fingers tapping idly on the surface, his voice devoid of emotion. "Long time no see."

Rowan dug her nails into her palms, her face expressionless. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm suited for this position. Goodbye."

"Walk out that door," he said flatly, "and debt collectors from three banks will come knocking. Are you sure you want to leave, Ms. Lavien?"

Rowan's feet froze in place. Slowly, she turned around.

A document slid across the desk toward her.

"Sign it." Kingsley's words were clipped.

The contract terms were brutal:

—Twenty-four-hour private secretary. On call at all times.

—In exchange, her debts would be deferred, and her mother's astronomical daily ICU expenses would be covered by him.

Rowan stared at those lines, her heart plunging into ice water.

She wasn't the naive rich girl anymore. This wasn't an employment contract.

This was a contract to be kept.

"Your mother's hospital bill for today hasn't been paid yet."

Kingsley lit a cigarette. Through the curling smoke, Rowan couldn't see his face clearly, but she could feel his cold gaze piercing through her.

"Rowan, you have no choice."

Yes. She had no choice.

Rowan picked up the pen, her hand trembling as she signed her name on a contract that represented nothing but humiliation.

"Take off your clothes." His tone dripped with obvious contempt.