My Ex’s Stepfather Became My Addiction

My name is Elena Ross, and I’m a sex addict. This is the secret I guard with medication. But right now, the blizzard has sealed the road and cut off my escape. In this narrow car, the man sitting beside me is the one forbidden fruit I absolutely cannot touch—Silas Thorne. He’s not just my boss; he’s my ex-boyfriend’s stepfather.

As the executive assistant to the CEO of Thorne Capital, my work tolerates zero errors. Especially when working for Silas—a man who is a tyrant controlling half of New York’s real estate.

The irony is thick. Caleb dumped me, and I turned around and joined his stepfather's company. Silas might not even remember that I was the girl who knocked over a glass of red wine at his Thanksgiving dinner.

"Damn weather." The driver’s curse broke the dead silence inside the car.

The black Maybach was pushing through the thickening snow. The original plan was to head to a private estate at the peak of Aspen for a merger negotiation, but outside the window was now a white chaos.

"Mr. Thorne, the road conditions ahead are terrible. I’m afraid we won't make the estate," the driver said, his voice tight as he watched the warning lights flashing on the dashboard. "In this weather, if we don't stop soon, we're going to get stuck in the snow."

The man in the back didn't even lift his eyes. His deep cello-like voice sounds coldly: "Solution."

"GPS shows a roadside B&B two miles away. It’s the only shelter nearby."

"Then go there."

Ten minutes later, the Maybach came to a ragged stop in front of an aging wooden lodge. The wind howled, sharp enough to almost slice open skin.

I gripped my handbag, my fingers trembling violently—five minutes ago, I confirmed a desperate fact: that white bottle of inhibitors was gone. Without it, I was like a junkie stripped of her skin, and it had been twelve hours since my last dose.

The lobby of the lodge smelled of damp wood and cheap coffee.

"Only got one room left," the receptionist said, chewing her gum. She didn't even look up to glance at Silas’s expensive handmade suit, now dusted with snow. "In this weather, you don't get to be picky."

"One room?" I gasped, instinctively looking at Silas. "Mr. Thorne, that’s not appropriate. I can make do in the lobby..."

"Elena." He cut me off, his gaze sweeping coldly over my pale face. "I don't need an assistant freezing to death in a hallway. Take the key card. Get inside."

It was an absolute order.

Walking into that cramped room, my heart sank to the bottom. It was smaller than the spacious back seat of the Maybach. A slightly sagging double bed occupied most of the space, and the air held not just a chill, but a stifling intimacy.

Silas took off his expensive cashmere coat and tossed it casually over the back of a chair. With his movement, a masculine scent mixing cold cedar and tobacco instantly filled the entire room.

I stood by the door, feeling like a thousand ants were crawling in my bones. It was the precursor to a craving attack.

He turned, his gaze landing on me, his brow furrowing slightly. "You're shivering, Elena."

Even just being looked at by him sent a shameful electric current through my body.

"I'm sorry, sir. It's just... too cold," I lied, squeezing my legs together tightly beneath my suit skirt, trying to suppress the shameful wetness that was waking up.