Chapter 42 Chapter 42
Amelia
I sat in my car, waiting for Adele to finish her meeting. To pass the time, I scrolled through my phone, moving from one app to another, but nothing held my interest for long. After a while, boredom settled in, and I let out a quiet sigh before stepping out of the car.
I leaned back against it and watched people walk in and out of the tall building. As I stood there, a familiar thought crossed my mind. One day, my company would grow this big too. I would build something successful, something that mattered. One day, I would be among the top realtors in the country.
I was still lost in my thoughts when suddenly an arm grabbed me.
Startled, I turned around and froze. Maxwell stood in front of me.
Shock rushed through me, rooting my feet to the ground. What was he doing here? I had left the house because of him. I had gone to Adele’s place just to get away, to breathe and now, somehow, I had run straight into him again.
Of all the places in the city, why did it have to be here?
“What are you doing here?” he asked, still holding my arm tightly.
I frowned, quickly pulling my hand free from his grip and smoothing down my dress. “How is that any of your business?” I shot back.
He scoffed, clearly annoyed. “Are you thinking of looking for a job here?” he asked. “Because this company belongs to my friend, Rafe.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, you mean your friend? Rafe the mechanic owns this company?” I blurted out.
Realization hit me all at once. That meant the CEO Adele was meeting with was Rafe. Oh God. I silently winced, I really hoped Adele didn’t beat the life out of him for ghosting her.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Maxwell said impatiently. “What are you doing here instead of resuming your duties as my secretary this morning?”
Anger surged through me so fast my hands curled into fists. I had to fight the strong urge to scratch his face and scream at him right there.
“So sorry, the lord of my life and the controller of my destiny,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I got a job as a driver and brought a passenger here for a meeting. Just so you know exactly how much I detest the idea of working for you,” I shot back, glaring at him.
“You did what?” he snapped, his face turning red with rage. “My wife—the wife of Maxwell Sinclair, an Uber driver? What the hell, Amelia?” He shouted, his voice echoing in the empty street.
Before I could even open my mouth to respond, he grabbed me with surprising strength and lifted me off the ground. I kicked and screamed, hurling profanities at him, but he didn’t stop until we reached his car. His driver quickly got out and opened the door.
“Excuse us,” Maxwell said curtly to the driver, who walked away after closing the door.
I immediately turned on him, slapping his chest and shouting, “What the hell is wrong with you, moron?”
He dropped me unceremoniously onto the seat and then plopped down beside me, facing me with that infuriatingly serious glare.
“You trying to disgrace me by taking a job as an Uber driver and you wear this kind of dress to work?” he yelled, his voice sharp. “This is exactly what is wrong with me!”
I crossed my arms, refusing to back down, my chest heaving from anger and disbelief.
“You have no right to tell me how to dress or control what I do!” I yelled, my voice trembling with anger.
He didn’t respond. He just stared at me, his eyes dark and calculating, and for a moment I thought he was actually considering letting me leave. But then, in one swift movement, he leaned closer, his presence overwhelming, and I felt the pressure of him behind me as he lifted me off my seat and put me on his lap with my back facing him.
“What are you trying to do?” I hissed, my heart racing.
“Teach you a lesson,” he said calmly, his voice low and measured. He raised my gown up and my ass was exposed to him, the thought of him spanking me excited me even though I was mad at him.
“You are not wearing pants, a dress this short and you are not wearing pants.” He said as his hand landed hard on my ass. I moaned loudly as his hard dick hit my pussy through the material of his pants.
“You are only looking for an excuse to get your hands on me, dear husband.” I spat, even though my pulse betrayed me.
Instead of responding, his palm landed on my ass again and I jolted forward, “I hope you are counting, cause I am starting over if you lose count.” He said landing another smack again.
“Threeeeee.” I moaned, my pussy was wet and I rubbed it hard against his hard dick.
The sharp ringing of his phone cut through the charged silence between us. Of course. Why does something always have to interrupt our private moments? I thought, letting out a quiet, frustrated sigh.
He finally released me and reached into his pocket, he pulled out the phone. I watched him, my chest still racing, annoyed that the moment had been broken.
“You are lucky I have a meeting,” he said, his tone sharp but controlled. “You will wait here until I am done. Then we are going home to change before you resume work.”
I froze, blinking at him in shock. “Wait… I am resuming work with you today?” I asked, my voice a mix of disbelief and irritation.