14/02/2026
🔥🍷🔞 Temptation 🔞🍷🔥
🖤 By Domas Library 🖤
Chapter 1
I close the red-covered book and look up at my new office. The white walls contrast with the dark wood of the furniture and the black leather armchairs. A matching rug surrounds the floor, and to the left of the center, upwards, there is a small glass window offering a view of part of the city. I let my head fall back against the chair. Finally, after all those long interviews, I got the job. Now I'm an executive at Hilton & Roe in London, one of the largest and most prestigious international hotel chains.
I look around. Who would have thought they'd even assign me an office? Well, this place must have money to burn, and I'm not going to complain; I've never had my own office before.
I smile enthusiastically and at that moment someone knocks on the door.
—Forward.
The short blonde woman who brought me here about twenty minutes ago comes back in, swaying on her red stiletto heels.
—Mr. Jones is expecting you in his office— she says, her voice volume carefully measured.
I nod with a smile that she doesn't return, but that's not going to dampen my good mood. I raise my eyebrows without her noticing as I grab my folder and follow her outside.
If Cora could see this, she'd be just as surprised as I am. The only times we had the opportunity to be in a company like this were during my university internship and, of course, my previous job where I met him...
Not now, Emma. I plead with my mind, but the memory has just hit me without warning.
We walked through the long, elegant hallways, and I took the opportunity to take a quick look around the entire place. Since I first arrived a few weeks ago for the qualification process, I realized that the perfect words to describe this company are elegance and prestige. The whole place is full of people in expensive suits with frivolous looks, and I can't even describe the design perfectly; the person who designed this place has exquisite taste.
I bite my lip, trying to calm my nerves on my first day of work. I know who my boss is; we've worked together the last few weeks while he conducted my interviews and evaluated my work, until he decided I was the right person to be his new assistant. To many, his gray hair and blue eyes may seem threatening, but my boss is a nice man.
The woman stops in front of the double glass doors and I enter immediately.
—Miss Brown— says my boss, Mr. Jones, who despite being an elderly man still maintains a strong tone of voice —Please take a seat— he points to one of the cushioned armchairs in front of his desk.
—Thank you.
"Did you like your new office?"
I nod with a smile, but before I can open my mouth to say anything, he interrupts me. "Perfect." He gets up from his chair and walks around me.
His office is much bigger than mine, but he maintains the rule of neutral and blue colors.
—In a few minutes there will be a meeting to discuss the innovations at our hotels in Manchester and the new luxury hotels in Birmingham. —He points between us— We're going to focus on the Birmingham information, as I explained to you this morning. That's our biggest project this year for Hilton & Roe.
I open my mouth again to nod, but he continues talking. I remain silent, listening attentively. Ever since I met him, I knew my boss worked in a... peculiar way; he always needs to give every detail of what he wants without interruption. Mr. Jones is a very perfectionist man and I am delighted to learn from him.
"My secretary will give you the proposals we've prepared for the opening. My publicists put them together, but I'm not entirely convinced." He runs his hand over his chin. "I want you to review them and give me a new proposal tomorrow with that information. Do you think you can do that?"
—Of course, sir— I nod immediately. It's a lot of work for just one afternoon, but work is exactly what I'm looking for.
"Perfect, Miss Brown," he said, looking pleased. "Good, the meeting is about to begin. It's time to go."
He heads for the door and I take a deep breath before letting him lead me to the boardroom.
I concentrate on taking firm steps on my heels; luckily I'm wearing a blazer and dark trousers; I'm pretty sure that with a pencil skirt I would have fallen over from nerves. I try to relax before going in. I don't want to have a heart attack at twenty-four, but like everyone else, I don't like the feeling of being the new girl. It's overwhelming enough that the place is huge and very well-known; with a bit of luck, I'll go unnoticed.
We turn into a corridor and the door at the end is where we're headed.
It's time. My boss opens the door for me.
Wow! I'm surprised from the very first moment. The boardroom occupies a large area with large polarized glass windows on both sides, and the ceiling has circular lamps hanging above a long, oval table that appears to be made of the same dark material as my desk. The table occupies most of the room, and several men and women in suits are seated around it. The center chair, which is the largest of all, is still empty.
Mr. Jones approaches the table and sits down next to a brunette woman who is engrossed in one of her folders. I'm stunned for a second, then I hurry to sit beside her.
—This is Emma Brown, my new assistant— he tells the executives around him; some nod politely and others remain silent as if he hadn't spoken at all.
Sigh. It seems I have a difficult audience here, but I'm not surprised. Ever since I left Trafford, I knew things wouldn't be easy for me again. Emma Brown, twenty-four years old and far from home, is a recipe for disaster, my father said when he found out I was leaving, but he's wrong. The only disaster there is is in Trafford, locked up in prison, and I came to London to leave it behind along with the hell he made me live through.
A brown-haired man with hazel eyes, almost the same color as his hair, enters through the door. Oddly enough, he's not wearing a suit like everyone else, but no one seems surprised. He walks past us and sits at the opposite end. My boss gives him a nod, and he returns it.
A few seconds pass, and two more men in suits enter. One is blond and the other dark-haired, but they aren't alone; behind them... comes one more.
A serious look and a straight back. A position that commands respect. His suit is tailor-made and clings perfectly to his muscles as he walks. He doesn't notice anyone as he passes through the doors, nor does he look up, but his mere presence commands respect in an instant, and all the executives immediately fall silent.
The man approaches the chair in the center and takes his place. I know who he is, I've seen him in all kinds of magazines before and in articles on the internet; he is the owner and founder of the Hilton & Roe hotel chain. Alexander Roe.
I watch him as he reviews the things in front of him with a completely serious expression. Many magazines and business analysts have listed him as one of London's most outstanding entrepreneurs. And rightly so; at just twenty-seven, he already has an entire empire at his disposal.
As I watch, the lights in the center dim and blink a couple of times as a blond man with a small remote control in one of his hands approaches one of the large screens that take up more than half of the front wall.
"Welcome," his thick accent tells me he's not from the city, maybe from the outskirts. "As you know, 35% of the budget allocated for new Birmingham hotels has been invested."
Press a button and graphs with data on the sides appear on the screen.
—They are luxury hotels with a unique and innovative design, the best design so far from our architects, especially from our star architect— he smiles, looking very pleased with what he himself said —It is estimated that we are going to enter the scale of the ten best hotels in the world.
At that moment, a loud tapping of a pencil against the table rises up, drawing everyone's attention.
"Stop rambling and get to the point, Robert," a thick, harsh voice interrupts the blond man.
It's him, Alexander Roe, and he has an angry look on his face, harder than before; he seems about to strangle someone, and the blond guy is the closest to him.
—Yes, Mr. Roe— says the blond man, a little embarrassed, and continues explaining.
Mr. Roe runs his hand over his face, clearly displeased.
For some reason, I can't stop noticing him. The man is too attractive to be an executive. Emma! My subconscious chides me, and I force myself to stop my thoughts, blaming it on first-day jitters.
Although I'm not blind either. Now that I see him face to face, and not in a printed photo or some video of his interviews, I notice that he has fine, delicate features. All the muscles of his jaw are perfectly defined, and yes, the man is clenching it tightly.
My thoughts about him are interrupted when Mr. Roe suddenly raises his head and his eyes meet mine from the other end of the table.
S**t! S**t! He just caught me watching him.
His green eyes stare at me with an intimidating curiosity, and my body blocks all the signals my brain sends to make me look away, and I just stare at him like a fool.
He tilts his head to one side, seemingly intrigued by my reaction, and then very slowly his gaze travels down my body.
Suddenly, an alarm goes off in my head, and I frown at this strange reaction from my body. He just looked at me—
His eyelids lift again, and before I can look away, he suddenly gives me a lopsided smile.
That's a damn seductive smile. I swallow hard; that gesture has a strange effect on my body that I don't like. I manage to look away, but not before seeing his frown.
I look up again and see that his eyes are still fixed on me. The man doesn't blink for a second, and I don't like that anymore. I shift uncomfortably, wishing the meeting would move on faster, and look away.
—I want you to use that data from the second column to work on your proposal— Mr. Jones's voice snaps me out of my stupor.
I nod and start taking notes on the most important information the blond guy is saying.
The meeting continues, but I feel his eyes still fixed on me. I glance over and confirm it.
"If there's nothing more to say, we can end the meeting," the blond man concludes a few minutes later, and I feel relieved to finally be able to leave.
I get up along with my boss to walk to the exit and keep my head down. Everyone goes through the double doors, but Mr. "piercing stares," better known here as Alexander Roe, stays near the door and doesn't seem to have any intention of leaving.
Just what I needed, and worse still, he looks better standing up than I thought and fantasized, although I'm not admitting that I see the way the black suit fits him, it's just something you simply can't ignore.
I press my lips together in a straight line as my boss and I approach; we will inevitably pass by him.
—Christopher— he says slowly when we bump into him.
—Mr. Roe— my boss bows his head slightly in greeting and we leave through the glass doors.
He completely ignored me, though I didn't expect him to greet me anyway.
"My secretary will be bringing the proposals to your office shortly, Miss Brown," my boss said, glancing at his watch. "I'll see you later."
—Yes sir.
We reached the fork in the corridors; Mr. Jones took the left one and I headed down the right one towards my office.
A couple of knocks on the door start me out of my thoughts, and I jump up immediately.
A slim young woman with wavy hair enters carrying some heavy-looking folders. It's Alicia, my boss's secretary.
—Good morning Miss Brown, these are the folders with the proposals we have worked on in the last month and also the location details in Birmingham.
"Thank you, Alicia. I'll get right on it, and please, just call me Emma, not Miss Brown," I remind her.
"Okay, Emma," she repeats. "By the way, I'm so glad you got an office and that the job is yours. Congratulations."
"Thank you," I smile back. "Black isn't my color," I say, gesturing to the furniture. "But I think I can handle it." I wink at her.
She lets out an amused laugh. "I think it suits you very well."
—Thank you, have a good day— I smile at her as she leaves through the door.
After she leaves, I settle back into my seat, shaking off the effects of my earlier nerves, and open the first folder. "Birmingham" is written on it in large letters. "The biggest project," as I recall the blond guy saying, and my boss agreeing.
I take a deep breath. Time to get to work, Brown, I whisper to myself...
I enter my apartment after my workday ends. I'm tired; I had to review a lot of paperwork to familiarize myself with all the information about Birmingham, but despite everything, I feel incredibly satisfied with my very productive day. Furthermore, immersing myself in work makes me stop thinking completely.
I leave my things on the tiny brown sofa near the entrance and head over to the fridge. I need a glass of wine to relax and unwind from the office. It's an old habit I've enjoyed since I lived in Trafford.
I look around my apartment as I open the nearly empty bottle. As soon as I can, I need to get this place organized. It's been a few months since I rented it, and I've only added a little of my own touch. I wish Cora were here; she'd work her magic decorating it and save me from a lot of decorating madness.
I sigh and take another long sip from my glass. The wine is delicious, but that doesn't replace the fact that I miss my favorite blonde so much.
Siine's song "Bottoms Up" starts blasting on my phone, and I rush to my bag to desperately search for it among all the things I have in there. It takes a while, but I finally manage.
—Hello?
—Hey sexy!— greets Cora's sing-song voice, my best friend, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me when I hear it. God! How I've missed her! It's as if she heard my thoughts just a few seconds ago.
—I suppose you're already home. How was your day, Miss Assistant to the Director of Public Relations at Hilton & Roe?— she says the company name in a pompous tone.
"Exhausting," I slump onto the sofa and kick off my heels. "I still have to get used to everything, but I can manage. Besides, I already have my own office. Can you believe it?"
I can hear her smile on the other end of the phone. "I told you, Emma, those people ooze money. Maybe I'll get a job there so I can buy Oliver expensive food."
I stifle a laugh. Cora would never work in an office; she'd die of boredom. She's happy working with the arts, visuals, and anything that requires creativity without pressure.
—Oliver? I thought your fish was called Otto. I chose the name— I remind her.
—Well, let's just say Otto joined the fishy heaven.
I shake my head with a smile. "You're the worst mother ever, Coraline."
"I actually fed him this time!" she says indignantly. "But nobody told me I didn't have to give him the whole container of food. At least he left fed." She grumbles on the other end, and I smile. "And how are things with your apartment? The last time I saw that place, it was like a dump."
"It looks better than before. I'm slowly working on decorating it." I look around and grimace. I have to admit, it does look like a hole, but for now, I have to make do with this. "And how are you?"
—Uh, well... the gallery wants to exhibit some of my other babies.
—Congratulations! I told you that you had to accept the contract with them, Cora, although you still haven't told me which gallery it is— her "babies" are none other than her precious paintings.
I can't judge her for taking such good care of them because she paints each picture herself with great care; when inspiration strikes, her brush practically moves on its own. I've seen her work, and it's fascinating.
—I'll be waiting for photos of the exhibition.
"You won't have to," she whispers so softly I can barely hear her.
—That?
—I said, you can count on it, sexy— a noise like a can falling comes through the speaker —Sorry, this place is really dirty, it looks like a tornado wrecked it, it's even worse for packing.— I smile, imagining her annoyed face.
—Wait, are you packing? What for? Your apartment's been ready and tidy for weeks now.
—Yes, well... it's to organize it more.
It doesn't sound like she's telling me the truth, but it's Cora, you never know what she's going to do or say.
—Then I'll leave you to clean it up, and please don't forget to feed the fish this time, and with the right amount.— Cora is as good at taking care of pets as I am at cooking. Yes, we're both a real mess.
She laughs softly. —I won't, painter's promise.
—I thought your promises as a painter were worthless.
—That was last Christmas, this year they'll do— I doubt it, but her attempts make it more fun and that's why I love her so much.
—I have to go, Cora, my boss wants a proposal for some hotels by tomorrow and I haven't finished it yet.
"Go ahead, go for it and show him who Emma Brown is." I stifle a laugh. "I want you sexy, and don't forget to call me if you need anything." She's silent for a moment on the other end of the line; I know what she means. "Goodbye."
—I love you, Cora, goodbye— I hang up and lean back in the armchair.
I sigh, noticing for the first time the loneliness in my apartment. I should get a fish like her, to keep me company. I smile at the thought, but my smile quickly fades when I look at my wrists.
The circular markings are barely visible and I can cover them up perfectly at work. With Dr. Kriss's expertise, the scars will disappear completely in a couple of months; hopefully, that horrible night with Seth will disappear too. Just thinking about his name makes me grimace.
He can't hurt me. I have to remember that; he's not free, and he won't be for a long time. My father helped me, something he'd never done in his life.
I go to the window and see the London buildings outside. Even if I don't tell Cora, a part of me is terrified that I won't be able to go on with a normal life like before, but I'm going to do it. I have no choice.
I have to do it because, even though he's locked up, I don't intend to go back to Trafford. And as my mother taught me, a Brown never gives up. Hilton & Roe has just given me the opportunity to continue, to progress in my career as a publicist, although I already had experience, but this opportunity is better than any other and that is a big step towards staying here.
I look up to the sky, this is just the beginning of building a life for myself in London and I'm sure it won't be easy, but I'm ready to fight.
Welcome to Temptation, a fascinating, seductive and erotic adventure... "And you, are you ready to give in to temptation?" —Domas
