C6 Un

Thanks I've sent it to her but she haven't reply so let'sove on to next chapter this is my chapter 8 help me evaluate it be tell me if it's okay nd won't get rejected : Natalie POV

I stormed into my apartment, my temper flaring like someone had just lit a fuse inside me. Hissing loudly, I yanked the front door open and marched straight in.

“What’s wrong, Natalie? And why are you coming home this late?” Emily, my housemate, asked as I slammed the sitting room door shut behind me.

“Just a bad day…” I snapped sharply. I didn’t stop to explain. I just headed straight for my room and slammed that door too, locking it behind me.

It wasn’t until I finally sank down onto the edge of my bed that the anger melted away, replaced by cold, heavy dread. The truth hit me hard. No one actually did anything wrong to me. I was the one in the wrong.

I was the one reckless enough to spread myself open, touch myself, and moan loudly in my boss’s office, right on his desk. And on top of all that, when he caught me, I’d even dared to slap him.

I buried my face in my shaking hands, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Natty, you are done,” I whispered as I rolled over onto my bed. I’d risked everything, my job, my secret identity, my reputation, all for one stupid, impulsive decision.

“What was I even thinking in the first place? What made me slap him?” I muttered as I sat upright again, my body too restless to stay still. “That he was wrong for removing my mask? And I still dared to slap him. Instead of begging him, I should have been crawling on the floor, begging him at least to save my reputation. Instead, I took these tiny hands of mine and slapped him?” I whispered, starting to pace up and down the room.

“Come to think of it…” I spoke to the empty room, as if someone was there to listen. “Didn’t he take a video? Is he going to hand it over to the legal team? Will I be questioned? Will I go to jail for disrespecting my boss and his office?”

A flood of terrifying thoughts kept racing through my mind. I could already picture tomorrow’s news headlines. Natalie Coles, a young administrative assistant, caught streaming erotic content in her boss’s office. I imagined my thousands of fans finding out my face, the few people who liked me turning their backs because they knew I was an erotic streamer. Worst of all, I pictured Wyatt, the guy I had a crush on at work, hating me for what I did.

Tears pricked my eyes as I stared blankly at the wall. “No way… no… I’m not letting this happen,” I muttered to myself. I walked over to my small desk, and without thinking twice, I started drafting my resignation letter, while also thinking of countless ways to save myself.

I would resign first thing in the morning. I would apologize, take full responsibility, and beg him until he finally accepted. I would even crawl at his feet, lick his shoes, do anything just to make him forgive me and let me leave quietly. It was the only way to salvage whatever little dignity I had left.

I barely slept a wink that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I replayed the scene in his office, the way he’d looked at me when the mask fell. That look in his eyes… for a brief second, I’d almost convinced myself it had been something other than anger, probably desire.

“Get a hold of yourself, Natty,” I scolded myself sharply. “How could the great Liam Sterling look at you that way? He was probably just staring at you with disgust, like you were something dirty and unworthy, and right now must be planning on how to make you rot in jail and never see the sun again in your life.”

By the time the first gray light of dawn crept through my curtains, my eyes were red and heavy, and my stomach was twisted into a tight, painful knot. Still, I refused to let that paralyze me.

I got dressed in my usual modest work clothes: the oversized cardigan, the loose blouse, and the thick-rimmed glasses. A saint by day, but a s*xy snake that crawls into men’s pockets by night. Two sides of the same person.

I folded my resignation letter carefully, tucking it deep inside my bag, and headed to the office long before anyone else was expected to arrive.

Staff were just starting to trickle in when I reached Sterling Group. I walked like someone who had committed the worst crime imaginable, my legs feeling heavy as they carried me forward. But I pushed on anyway.

My throat went dry, and for a second I almost turned and ran, but I forced myself to keep going. I had to face this.

“Let’s end this once and for all,” I muttered, gathering my courage. Instead of heading to the administrative department, I walked straight toward the CEO’s office. It was better to get this over with before the rest of the staff arrived and word could spread.

I stood in front of the heavy mahogany doors for several minutes, my whole body trembling, torn between running away and stepping inside. I was afraid, too afraid to go in, but in too much trouble to turn back.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally took a deep, shaky breath, raised my hand, and knocked softly.

“Come in,” he called out immediately, answering at the very first knock.

I turned the handle and pushed the door open. It creaked softly, breaking the heavy silence of the early morning.

The office was just as I remembered it, large, sleek, and smelling faintly of cedar and expensive leather. Dominating the center was that massive mahogany desk, the very place where everything had spiraled out of control the night before.

Liam sat behind it, already dressed in a crisp dark suit, looking every bit the powerful, untouchable CEO. He didn’t look up at first. His eyes remained fixed on the document in front of him, his pen moving steadily across the page as if nothing unusual had happened at all.

I stepped inside and closed the door gently behind me, shaking violently from the inside out. A thousand terrifying possibilities raced through my mind.

I walked slowly until I stood right in front of his desk, my hands clasped so tightly together my knuckles turned white, just to stop them from trembling.

For a long moment, there was only silence. He didn’t look up, continuing to focus on his work while I struggled to force my frozen body to cooperate.

Then, he finally set down his pen and lifted his head. His dark eyes met mine, sharp, assessing, and completely unreadable. The intensity in that gaze alone almost made me stumble backward, but I dug my heels in and held my ground.

“Mr… Mr. Ster… Sterling,” I stammered, my voice coming out quieter and shakier than I wanted. I swallowed hard and forced myself to continue. “I… I’m here to speak about last night.”

Before I could lose my nerve, I sank immediately to my knees on the polished floor.

“I know… there is no excuse for what I did,” I rushed out, my voice thick with panic. “I had no right to enter your office, no right to do something that wild in the company, and certainly to be your worker and at the same time a streamer. I was wrong, and I am truly, deeply sorry, sir…”

With trembling fingers, I reached into my bag, pulled out the neatly folded resignation letter, and placed it on the desk between us. I pushed it forward slightly, keeping my gaze fixed on the floor rather than meeting his piercing eyes.

“I understand if you are furious and want me gone immediately. So… I’ve written this. I’m resigning, effective right now. All I beg of you is this. Please keep my secret. Please keep my identity hidden. I didn’t do it out of greed or disrespect. I only did it to survive. Please… just forgive me and keep my identity hidden.”

Tears began streaming down my cheeks, hot and fast.

But he said nothing. He only stared at me for a long, heavy moment, then returned his attention to his papers, leaving me kneeling there in silence, crying and feeling utterly foolish.

Still, I didn’t dare stand up or complain. I remained on my knees, pouring out my apologies and explanations as best as I could.

After a few minutes, he set down his pen and finally stood up, moving with slow, deliberate grace. He picked up the remote control on his desk and pressed it, and instantly, the blinds covering the glass walls slid shut, sealing us completely in privacy.

Then, he began to step closer. The sound of his heels clicking against the floor echoed in the quiet room, sharp and precise, more like the hammer of a gun pointed straight at my head. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, beating in slow, dramatic, terrifying rhythm as he drew near.

He bent down until he was at my level, his presence overwhelming. He reached out, his fingers firm but surprisingly gentle as he gripped my jaw and lifted my face upward, as if inspecting every detail of my features. A slow, wicked smile spread across his lips.

“Wow… what a magnificent disguise,” he said slowly, his voice low and clear right against my face. “Interesting.”

He stood back up and walked leisurely back to his seat, that same dangerous smile still playing on his lips.

At that moment, I felt genuine fear.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he added, letting out a short, cold laugh that sent fresh shivers down my spine.

“Who could have thought that the plain, quiet, almost invisible administrative assistant who looks like she couldn’t hurt a fly by day… is a wild, seductive streamer by night. Hahaha.”

His voice was calm and thick with amusement, but it felt anything but comforting.

“Even my private office wasn’t spared from your little performance… you laid right here on my desk, putting your hands between your legs, moaning loudly on the table I use to sign millions of dollars’ worth of deals, while thousands watched… hahaha, isn’t that interesting?” he added, his tone sharpening just slightly.

“Sir… it wasn’t like that,” I hurried to explain, my voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to do it here. I was just—”

He raised one hand, cutting me off instantly, silencing me before I could finish.

He slowly picked up the resignation letter lying before him, glancing at it briefly. Then, without a single word of warning, he tore it dramatically right down the middle, once, twice, until it was in pieces, and tossed the shreds straight into the wastebasket beside his desk.

My eyes went wide with horror. Is he planning to deal with me in a worse way? Is he going to broadcast everything to the whole world? Have the police already been called? A thousand worst-case scenarios raced through my mind, leaving me dizzy with fear.

“Sir…?” I whispered, barely able to get the word out.

“Resign?” His voice was low and steady, completely devoid of the rage I had braced myself for. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an expression I could not quite decipher.

“Who in this world would take a great piece of art, put it on display, let viewers drool at the sight of it, and then turn around and run away with it?”