I almost feel guilty when my father texts me requesting to see him in his office. For a moment it feels like he had returned early, but no, the weekend has passed, most of my time lost in my sexual liaisons with Mason.

Monday morning is busy and I make my way through the bustling guests toward the main office. My hands feel like they are on the verge of shaking, as I move down the long corridor that leads into his office. I’m an adult and have done no wrong, but some sort of guilt wracks me still.

I smile and nod to his secretary as she waves me on through and I enter his office with a heavy breath. He sits behind his desk, a mountain of paperwork before him.

“Stacy, close the door, please,” he says with a smile.

I do as he asks before taking the seat opposite him. “How’s it going, Dad?” I ask him, finding the sound of my own voice uncomfortably quiet. Even though I am trying, I’m still giving off the impression of a child that has done something wrong.

He sets his pen down and pushes away the paperwork he is going through. “Well, you know we have this annual mixer coming up.”

I nod my head, its the only thing I’ve been hearing about in the hotel for the last few weeks. A big get together for some of the most important big-wigs in the city. It is a pretty serious subject for most of the staff as those who are lucky enough to work the event often tell of amazing pay and extravagant tips.

“I want you to work the event,” my father says happily. “As a hostess, of course.”

“Thanks, Dad, that’s really great,” I tell him truthfully.

He leans forward in his chair. “Stacy, it’s not just a job, I want you to do some networking. There will be a lot of important people here tonight and this could be a good thing for you.”

I crack a smile and laugh half-heartedly, a move that seems to displease him immensely. “Dad, I’m really not sure what kind of networking I could do.”

“Just get a feel for business,” he says sternly. “Just mingle, Stacy. It will come naturally. After all—”

“Dad,” I cut him off, knowing full well where this is going.

He holds up his hand. “Stacy, you may not like it, but one day you’re going to have to run this business—”

“Well, that’s too bad because I don’t want to,” I tell him straight.

There is a moment of heavy silence that hangs over the office before he speaks. “I don’t have the time to get into this now, Stacy. So please, for now, just do as I ask.”

I realize there is no point in continuing the argument further when even my father is too tired to get into it right now. I take the easy out from all of this and agree to keep my ears open and my networking to the maximum.

He makes small chat about his weekend activities before he reminds me that I have duties to fulfill today around the hotel. Only as I’m about to leave does he speak again and I almost stumble as I’m opening the door.

“And by the way, don’t expect to see Mason at the mixer,” my father says quietly.

My heart almost jumps through my mouth. I take a moment to think, letting an expression of faux-confusion spread across my face. “Oh, no?” I say.

“I wasn’t going to tell you this until he had left the hotel after I give him my final word—”

“Final word?” I cut him off.

My father holds up his hand. “Stacy, please. The reason Mason has been here is to acquire my business, and he wants to do it any means possible.”

The floor begins to feel unstable beneath my feet, each of my father’s words slowly shattering my world. My body demands I sit but I can’t move an inch without risking falling over.

He stands up from his chair. “The reason I’m telling you this is because I’ve heard from sources around the hotel that you’ve been seeing a lot of Mason over the past few days.”

His works are straight to the point and I find a creeping dread invade my system. I try not to think of Mason and the time we just spent together over the weekend.

“I’ve seen him around a few times—”

“Stacy,” he cuts me off. “Have you been seeing Mason, or gotten involved with him in any way?”

I can’t answer him, despite his demanding stare for one. I can barely even think. My mind is nothing but flashing images of my time with Mason.

“You’re a woman,” he says. “But don’t let yourself get used.”

“I’m not — I didn’t,” I say weakly, shaking my head in denial. The images race through my mind even faster now. I try not to think of Mason’s big cock… the image of it stretching me out, of it in my mouth. Of his cum warm across my face.

My father throws his pen on the desk, it clanks loudly in the silent room. “What he’s doing is wrong,” he says. “He has known us — you — most of our lives. Now he just wants to increase that portfolio of his — in more ways than one.”

“Dad—” I say, my words shaky through staccato breaths. “Don’t worry about Mason, I’m fine. I’ll be at the mixer, and I’ll network like crazy.” I realize I’m backing up to the door, my hand fumbles with the handle.

“Thank you,” is all he says as I exit the room.

Just outside the door my heart fully breaks and I allow tears to pool in my eyes. When I turn I lock my eyes to my father’s secretary who stares at me, her expression of intrigue. Before either of us can speak, a loud buzz startles us both and I hear my father’s voice over the intercom, ordering her to find out Mason Lockwood’s whereabouts and him removed from their premises.

Mason Lockwood…

I realize I’ve been wringing my hands as I stand here watching the secretary, so I turn and walk out. My mind whirs still, but I focus on a sole resolve: Mason. I want answers from the man himself. I need answers.

Silently, I cross the hotel, eyes cast down. No-one tries to talk to me, nor I to them. I know exactly where Mason is, and as I ride the elevator car up to his penthouse suite, I imagine everything I’m going to say to him, everything I am feeling distilled into a coherent scathing sentence.

But when I rush out of the elevator and barge through that heavy wooden door and find him going through papers at the desk in the corner, I simply cry out: “Why?”

He turns and doesn’t seem the least bit surprised that I stand before I'm, shaking in my shoes and tears pooling in my eyes. “It’s for the best,” Mason says quietly.

“So, it’s true then,” I stammer, my words echoing back at me in almost dead, emotionless intonation.

Mason drops what he is doing and affixes his gaze fully to mine, and speaks one simple word: “Yes.”

The words echo through my mind but they are meaningless, just sound that repeats itself. I focus only on the moment, the truth of what he had revealed to me. The pit of my stomach burns intensely, growing larger with every passing second.

Mason walks across the room and begins to fiddle with papers in his briefcase. I stay rooted to the floor, unable and unwilling to move, my belly on fire now, my heart thumping in my chest.

“You were using me,” I manage to stammer.

He looks up from his briefcase. “No,” he says almost quietly. “I was giving you what you wanted, Stace. What you needed.”

“What I wanted?” I ask, knowing full well the answer beforehand.

Mason stands straight. “You’ve wanted me for years, Stace,” he says sternly. “We both know that. And I you.”

“Needed?” My words are soft, full of shame.

He crosses the room to me and places his hands on my shoulders. I look up into his eyes and try to imagine what he is thinking, what words are in his head, what he is going to say to me, to explain himself for his actions, his deeds.

“Were you not lonely, Stace?” Did you not wish for someone to be with?” he whispers his words.

I nod. “Yes, but—”

He raises his hand to cut me off. “Everything we’ve experienced this weekend has been authentic, Stace. You have to believe me that it has nothing to do with buying your dad’s business.”

“Then why are you doing it?” I shout so loudly I scare even myself.

Mason simply raises both hands, palms up. “It’s for his own best interests, Stace. Without anyone to continue on his business—”

“So you think the best thing to do is take it from him? Expand his business, that’s what you told me, Mason. My ass.”

“No,” Mason sighs. “The business would be sold, I’m not taking anything from anyone, especially your father, Stace.”

The more he speaks the more my head aches. The fire in my belly burns white hot, my heart thumps a rhythm like it’s about to burst at any moment. All he wants to do is take my father’s business, add it to his portfolio, regardless of my family’s wishes or needs.

I step back from him and shrug off his hands. “So just because you couldn’t get your own way in the boardroom you decided you’d get your own way with his daughter instead, huh?”

“I told you, it’s not like that at all.”

But it sure seems like it is. I knew deep down there was no way a billionaire like Mason was truly interested in me, despite our past. All he wanted was to take out his frustrations on his opponent’s daughter, some sort of sick way of asserting his control. Each of the sexual liaisons we experienced this weekend flash through my mind, each now marred with a deep shame and I hate myself for it, both for willing participating and enjoying it — but mostly for being too naive to see the trust of the thing: I am merely his toy being used at his whim.

I tell him this as I gather the clothes I’d left in his penthouse the previous visit and storm out, my eyes stinging from the tears. On the elevator, a few people glance me over, knowing full well that I’m upset, crying, but no-one asks, no-one gets involved. In my uniform, they probably assume I’ve just been fired. They can assume away as far as I care, I don’t wish to explain this fucked up situation to anyone.

As soon as I get to my room, I curl up in the bed and wish for sleep, that comforting blanket that will mask the pain running through every fiber of my body. The pillow grows quickly wet with tears, my sobbing uncontrollable. How stupid I had been, how naive.

All this time he had only been interested in acquiring the business, let alone his interest in having his way with my body. I hate him for it now, and I equally hate him for his words, because I did want every one of his advances, and I did discover that I have a need for it, and that hurts me even more.

Even now the hurt grows as I realize how much I am into his heart and his sexuality, how much he seemed to get me. Even with this great shame I had enjoyed him using my body with his toys, with his big cock, and despite all that has been revealed to me, my nether craves still for his attention, his affection, to belong to him alone.

“Fuck you, Mason Lockwood,” I scream into my pillow until I’m out of breath.

‘Don’t go, Stace.’

Those were the last words he said to me as I stormed out of the penthouse. Was there an ounce of regret in those words? I was too angry to notice if there was, and the words are just that in memory, simple, hollow, devoid of emotional intent. But there was a flicker in his eyes, a moment of weakness, or no, vulnerability that shouldn’t have been there.

I sit up in bed and dry my eyes on my sleeves. It would be a trap to attribute anything on Mason’s part now, all of this is his game, I tell myself. I’m not going to sit in my hotel room feeling sorry for myself, especially when Mason is the one in the wrong. I cannot make excuses for the user.

My father is right, going to the business mixer would be the best thing I can do for myself at this point. With this in mind, I jump into the shower and run the water hotter than normal, trying to blast the feeling of Mason’s body from mine. I scrub my face with my hands to remove the furrowed trails tears have surely etched in my skin.

I can move past this, I convince myself, in time I will forget all about Mason Lockwood and his good looks and his business success. I try to project forward, envisaging myself in the future, happy, successful, loved — in love. But all the while these images move through my mind that hole burns away in my stomach, aching my entire body.

When I’m standing on the bath mat, toweling myself off, and staring at Lady Frump in the mirror, I realize that a hole burns in my heart now too.