I feel used.

Extremely used.

It's only my 4th day of work, and I have been working hours over the clock each day. It's almost as if it's me running this company.

I barely see Miss Aird anymore, my father works nights, so I don't see him. And my mother is always out walking the city.

Is this the life of business?

Mr. Grey waits for me to check in, throws lists at me, then leaves with a different woman each day. Sometimes twice a day. Or, a group of men will encourage him to check out his clubs he owns.

He promises it's just a "quality check," but he comes back at 11pm, then finally lets me leave.

It's Thursday night, 10:30PM, and I am exhausted.

If I would've known jobs were like this, I would've just told me father to let my cousin take the position. Just so I can sit in my room and paint as the sun sets.

I haven't been able to pick up a paint brush in a week.

Miss Aird is telling me to not let him walk all over me, but I'm too scared to say anything.

"Miss Heart?" I spot Mr. Grey walking into his office through my opened door. A women clinging to his arm.

She's dressed in a skimpy, hot pink dress. Is that really his type?

I bring my hands up to rub my irritated eyes, "Hello, sir. And bimbo number three thousand." I mumble under my breath while shutting off the computer.

"Excuse me, whore?" She slurs.

She heard that? Oh no.

I quickly stand up, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it I-"

She steps forward towards me, leaving Mr. Grey behind, "I will always be number one in Klein's life." She grabs my wrist to pull me closer, "Don't ever disrespect me again."

Clasping my wrist harder, I immediately start to cry. Her long, stiletto nails dig into my skin.

"Ow, ow ow ow." My voice comes out quiet, but whiny.

"Awww. You're a baby. Can't stand up for yourself, huh?" She let's go, "Klein, get this disrespectful-"

"Get the fuck out!" He yells.

We both freeze. He yelled 10 times louder than he did during the meeting the other day.

She crosses her arms, "You heard him! Go!"

Mr. Grey storms towards us, and he looks pissed off. Thinking he is coming for me, I squint and brace myself. But, he grabs the blonde by her wrist and drags her towards the elevator, "Don't ever fucking speak to her like that again, you hear me?"

"Ow ow ow!" She whines just as I did, "I didn't do anything, Klein."

He pushes her in the elevator, fueled by anger. Her small begs for forgiveness start to fade away.

The blonde whines loudly as the doors start to close, "Baby, please!" She sobs.

They finally close. Mr. Grey runs his fingers through his hair.

We sit there in silence. Well, not complete silence. I can hear the ragged breaths he is taking to calm himself down.

Without a second thought, I slowly walk up to him. He is facing away, not making a noise.

Unsure of what to do when I reach him, my hand apprehensively reaches itself up to touch his back shoulder.

"You didn't have to do that." I whisper.

Mr. Grey paused all movements for a few moments.

Unexpectedly, he quickly turns around and pushes my back to the nearest wall.

His large hand rests itself to the top left of my head, and the other near my waist, but not touching it. For some reason, I wanted him to touch me.

Bad thoughts, Lillian.

I halted my breaths and looked at him with wide eyes.

No one else is in the building except us, and the blonde crying down the elevator.

"You smell funny, Mr. Grey." I whisper and scrunch my nose.

"I've had a few drinks." He takes a deep breath in, "You smell so good, fuck."

"You are so good, do you know that?" He closes his eyes, almost as if he is holding himself back.

"Always working so late, listening to every word I say."

I play with the hem of my skirt nervously.

"Watching me leave with these whores, only for me to fuck their brains out while I imagine it's you under me, huh? How could you come from a man like your father?"

My eyes go even wider, "What?" I manage to breathe out slightly, "Y-you're drunk. I've read somewhere that alcohol can deter the mind and-"

He reaches down with his right hand and slightly, but quickly tugs at the hem of my skirt that I am playing with, interrupting my sentence, "These skirts of yours are going to be the death of me, Lillian."

The way he said my first name sends shocks to my core.

"I love when you clench those thighs together at the sound of my voice. So innocent and tempting." His face nears closer to mine.

Naturally, my eyes begin to close while the tension in the air grows thicker, "I-I don't know what I'm doing."

"I could teach you."

His hand raises back towards my head, but I become confused when I don't feel it coming towards my face for a few moments.

"But, I can't." He pushes himself off the wall, "Not now."

I open my mouth, my face begins to turn a bright red.

"Don't come in tomorrow. Use the time to get ready for the ball." He adjusts his suit pants and turns around, "I'll send a driver to your house at 6:30."

I stand against the wall for a moment. Taking in the situation.

Once again, used. I hate when he builds me all up and then just completely stops. Like it's amusing or something. It's not amusing in the slightest, it's sick and evil. It leaves me feeling partially empty, for some reason. And leaves me with so many other foreign feelings, but the main one being anger.

My underwear feels icky, the butterflies are beginning to fly away, and I feel like my cheeks are on fire.

"Yes, sir." I mumble and go to retrieve my bag that has ended up on the floor.

I can barely stand to look at him out of embarrassment, so I grab my bag, put my head down and run inside the elevator.