Chapter 1
Massimo Moretti was a man who never asked twice.
In Lisbon’s financial district, his name carried weight. Boardrooms bent around him. Markets shifted when he spoke. He was known for control that didn’t need to announce itself. Precision. Authority. Appetite.
His office sat high above the city, glass walls, long mahogany table, leather chairs that had witnessed deals worth more than most people would earn in a lifetime.
And tonight, none of that mattered.
The meeting had ended. The city lights flickered below. Only one person remained in the room.
His personal assistant stood across the boardroom table, breath uneven, jacket discarded over the back of a chair. She had learned early that working for Massimo meant understanding silence, anticipation, and the way his gaze could undo her faster than words ever could.
“You locked the door,” she said, more observation than question.
Massimo loosened his cufflinks slowly. Deliberately. He enjoyed the waiting. He always had.
“You didn’t leave,” he replied.
Her pulse jumped. He could see it. He could always see it.
He stepped closer to the table, placing one hand flat against its polished surface. This table had hosted negotiations, power plays, hostile takeovers. Tonight, it held something else entirely.
Massimo GRABBED her neck and pinned her against the wall “Fuuuck me”, she whispered.
Massimo leaned in, voice low, controlled. “You know what this costs.”
She nodded, already undone by the way he spoke as if everything belonged to him. Time. Space. People.
Massimo tore her skirt wide open, only to find out that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“What a naurty little bitch you are”, he said while smirking.
“Yes DADDY, know make me cum”, she murmured.
As he put it in, there was a moment of grasp “Urgh” they both said. As the strokes got deeper, the gripping on his shirt became tighter. “Yes, yes …Fuck me daddy, right there!” She moaned. Massimo put his hand on her mouth as every stroke lead to the climax, “You like that?”
“Yes, daddy!”
“Now say my name”
“Big Daddy Massimo”
What thrilled Massimo wasn’t the act itself. It was the obedience. The way she followed his lead without needing instruction. The way she mirrored his hunger while pretending it didn’t rule her.
Elias pulled Massimo down onto the chair. Everything at this point was wet and sloppy but his dick was still hard as a brick. “Let me show how it’s done Papi”, she whispered. She road that dick like her life depended on it, “Whose dick is it?” she questioned.
“MMH, FUCK MAMII, it’s all yours” Massimo quickly answers. Elias pussy is still wet as Massimo grabs her small waist, guiding her with it as they reach a flow state.
“Fuck I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Massimo moans.
“Urghhhhhhhh, fuck” , they both exhaled, his cum all over her booty.
When it was over, when composure was rebuilt and clothes straightened, the room returned to what it had always been. Power. Glass. Silence.
She gathered her things quickly.
“I’ll have tomorrow’s agenda on your desk by eight,” she said, voice steady again.
Massimo watched her leave, already detached, already moving on.
Then his phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
One message.
I hear you’re a man who only knows how to lead.
That must get exhausting.
His jaw tightened.
For the first time in years, Massimo felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest.
Not desire.
Not control.
But the unsettling sensation of being seen by someone who wasn’t impressed.
And somewhere deep beneath his certainty, something shifted.
It’s the following day and the atmosphere in the office is a bit subtle. Elias is going about her day as normal however Massimo had expected her to be eager, craving him after that night in the office. That had been the assumption of every man who had ever been in his orbit
“Ahhh, she knows who the fuck the boss is… I am The Massimo.” He said proudly. Little did he know that Elias, like him was different.
For days, she kept her distance. She smiled politely, kept her words measured, and moved through his office like she belonged, but never like she was there for him. Every glance that could have been lingering was deliberate. Every touch that could have betrayed desire was restrained. She followed routine with almost ritualistic precision: calm, composed, untouchable.
At first, Massimo tried to remind himself that it didn’t matter that he had her. That control was his. But every time she deflected a conversation, sidestepped proximity, or left the room before he could linger in his habitual way, something inside him twisted. A pulse of frustration. A hint of obsession. He had never met a woman who could play with his mind like this.
By midweek, the tension had become a constant ache. He caught himself replaying her subtle gestures, her calm defiance, the way she moved when she thought he wasn’t watching. Especially that night at the office, every moan whispered in his ears “Ohh yess daddy”, his mind raced and heart pounded with her every moan. Massimo remembered every second of that night and every encounter was a test he hadn’t agreed to. He hated it. And he hated himself for wanting it more.
The city was rainy that Friday night when he finally found himself at her door. He had tried to reason it away, to remind himself that he was Massimo Moretti, untouchable and unshaken. But here he was, soaked, desperate, and aware that the storm outside had nothing on the one raging inside him.
Elias opened the door, calm, composed as ever. Her hair was damp, a few strands framing her face, and she offered a small, knowing smile. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her tone teasing, controlled, magnetic.
The interior of her apartment was warm, inviting, deliberate: soft candles flickered, scenting the air, their light dancing over plush furniture. She handed him a cup of steaming tea, her fingers brushing his just long enough to make him ache. She was in a robe, soft fabric brushing her skin, just enough to hint at what lay beneath lingerie carefully chosen, like armor and invitation all at once.
Massimo drank slowly, every moment stretching into a lesson he hadn’t expected to learn: desire could be patience, obsession could be a tease, and power could be turned inside out.
Elias tilted her head, eyes sharp, smile sharp, lips teasing. “So…” she said, leaning against the doorway, candlelight flickering across her face, “what brings you here?”
And with that, Massimo realized the game had only just begun…
