Page 19 of Dirty Little Secrets

N ew York has an endless supply of coffee shops.

There is one near Landon's apartment, one by the office, another close to Kristina’s building.

The style, the crowd, the concept. They all depend on the street, the block, the borough.

The right corner can smell like espresso and ambition or pumpkin syrup and TikTok users.

This morning, I need quiet. I need something quick without the fuss. I choose a shop without a concept wall or popularity. No influencers preening for their “just woke up” shot. Just caffeine and quiet corners. That’s all I’m after. Because after last night, I didn’t sleep.

I spent hours scouring the internet. Looking up Xaiden Drazen.

Articles. Fundraisers. Events. Women. I scrolled until my eyes stung.

I compared myself to the high-society types he’s taken to galas and tech summits and came to the conclusion, I don’t hold a candle to any of them.

I knew it was self-sabotage but it was the only way I could stop thinking how I would never mean more to him.

That he was using my body and nothing more.

But I have something none of them do: The desire he hides when it comes to sex. None of those women in the pictures experienced his darker side. A side he keeps to himself. If they did, I wouldn’t have ended up in that room.

Even after brushing my teeth, I swear I still have the taste of him. Or maybe it’s because I’m still stuck in the fantasy, burning itself into my bloodstream. His scent branded on my skin. His touch carved into my thoughts like a password I can’t forget.

By the time I reach the top floor with five minutes to spare, he’s already in his office. The door is open. He’s seated behind his desk in perfect control, angled to see me the second I step out of the elevator and into his line of sight.

“Ms. Summers. I see you've brushed up on your time management skills.”

I’ve brushed up on a lot more than that. “Good morning,” I say, schooling my expression into something neutral.

“I need to know when my morning team meeting starts.”

I slide into my chair, power up my computer, and scan the calendar. It’s in an hour. In the Conference room on his floor. Full team. Including Landon.

I send it to him via email and the familiar ping from his desktop reaches me.

“You do have two legs, Ms. Summers. If I wanted a reminder notification, I’d set one myself.”

How can one man be so goddamn attractive and still act like an infuriating control freak? It’s jarring—the contrast between this version of Xaiden and the one who had me trembling the night before.

I push back from my desk, grab my coffee, and walk into his office wearing one of the new outfits he purchased in Las Vegas. Bash dropped me off at a boutique; Xaiden handled the bill. Ten outfits, shoes, plus lingerie.

At the time, I didn’t know he was my match on Obsidian. If I had, I might’ve chosen something darker, sexier. Not that I’m complaining. The garter set beneath this dress makes me feel like I’m in control of what I want.

“You didn’t spill coffee on your blouse this time.”

I sink into the chair across from his desk. “I kind of like this one.”

He smiles and it almost makes me spill the damn coffee. His teeth are perfect. Straight. Bright. Sinful. Last night, I was too busy riding him to notice the details.

“You seem to be in a better mood,” I say, crossing my legs. His eyes flicker—just for a second. “How was your weekend?”

His onyx-colored eyes hold mine. My pulse jumps. There’s no flicker of recognition. But I know he’s thinking about it. Just like I am.

“It was… exactly what I needed.”

“Good,” I murmur.

But it was different than anything I’ve read in Forbes. Yes, he made the cover. “Tech Billionaire Refuses to Sell Company.” But no article prepared me for the version of him behind closed doors. The man who devours with words. The man who breaks you and licks the pieces clean.

I kept scrolling all the public pages since I have no social media of my own.

I was raised in a place where public libraries were the only computer access.

I learned code like a second language, quietly.

Not because someone gave me opportunity, but because I hacked a network and found I was good at it.

Xaiden Drazen didn’t keep his birth name. It says his mother and father are Mexican. His mother id deceased but there is no mention on how she died. No information on his father. He built his own empire. Drazen isn’t just a surname, it’s a brand. And his mouth? Definitely not made for boardrooms.

“The meeting,” he says. “Will there be a problem?”

“Why would there be?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

He means Landon. He could show up shirtless with an apology card stapled to his chest and I wouldn’t flinch.

His gaze sharpens. “You have history.”

“None I care to remember.”

Xaiden raises an eyebrow. “Let’s hope he feels the same.”

“If he doesn’t… that’s his problem.”

When I push the refreshment cart inside the double wide doors inside the boardroom, glass greets me in front of the New York skyline. The sky is overcast promising rain.

I set the refreshments out in the center of the boardroom table as men in suits file in.

I first notice Mike from programming and then Steven. I heard enough about him from Kristina and the promises he didn’t keep. Mike, I heard from Kristina was the closest to Mr. Drazen from all the men that worked on this floor.

Then, Xaiden walks inside like an emperor about to take the throne. He takes his seat, his black suit jacket stretched to its limit from his muscled biceps. The parts I was able to familiarize myself with last night was nearly not enough. I want more and ache for a repeat.

Four other men filing in the room and each take an empty seat.

The last one in is Landon, his eyes are glued to my chest probably trying to figure out where I got the blouse.

It’s from a French designer I pronounced wrong when I showed it to Kristina.

According to her, it cost way more than my weekly salary.

“Gentlemen, Lady,” Xaiden says, at the head of the table. “Please take your seats.”

I sit at Xaiden’s left. Landon sits across from me.

“As some of you are aware, Ms. Summers has replaced my previous secretary, Jean.”

Landon snorts.

“Is there a problem?” Xaiden asks, his tone turning to ice.

“Just surprised.”

“How so?”

“Out of all the internal candidates, Emma chose her?”

“Obviously,” Mike cuts in.

“I chose her,” Xaiden says. “And I had the final say.”

I glance up. He meets my eyes the praise shooting through my veins like a drug.

“She’s good. I’m aware of your history with her outside the office, but according to Ms. Summers, it’s irrelevant.

And based on her performance, I agree.” He gestures toward the folders.

“What you are all seeing is a contract for fifteen-million-dollars she closed during a lunch meeting.”

Landon’s mouth drops slightly.

Whistles and congratulations ripple across the room.

“Excellent job, Ms. Summers,” Xaiden says, his compliment like the memory of his tongue on my skin. Since that first night, I don’t even see him as Mr. Drazen anymore. Inside my head, he’s Xaiden. X on tongue from the pleasure he evokes when he’s inside me.

I take notes as Xaiden gives the room his full attention.

He details timelines, deliverables, and his expectations for the two-week report with a comprehensive analysis.

I also quietly make a note of how he uploads a new client into the system.

The process is efficient, deliberate, and. .. revealing.

“Is there anything you need from me regarding programming?” I ask.

“Mike handles that,” Landon cuts in, tone sharp like I’m slow or trying to keep up with something above my pay grade.

I bite back a retort. I wasn’t speaking to him. But Typical Landon is always inserting himself. He assumes Drazen gave me this job because he wants to sleep with me. Because in Landon’s world, women are classified as wives or whores. Never equals.

The door opens.

Landon’s secretary, Chloe enters with Landon’s coffee. Espresso, splash of milk, no sugar. She smiles, but the flicker of disdain when she notices me doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she says, though she’s clearly not.

She thinks she hides it well, but she doesn’t. She’s been fucking him. I knew it the minute condoms became non-negotiable and his late nights were more frequent than usual.

I smile, sweet as syrup. “Nice shade.”

“What was that?” Her tone snaps, defensive.

“Your lipstick. The shade…it’s a nice color.”

The men glance over. Chloe stiffens.

Her eyes dart from Landon to me. “Oh. Thanks.”

I casually grab a napkin, pour a little water on it, and hand it to Landon. “Why are you giving me this?”

I motion to the smear of red on his collar. “You might want to be careful. The dry cleaner left a note three months ago saying that shade of lipstick doesn’t come out.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance slashing the silence in the room.

Jeremy at the far end of the table coughs. Mike and Steven hide their grins behind their fists. Chloe’s eyes widen in embarrassment. Landon looks like he’s been sucker punched with his hand covering his face.

When the meeting ends, Landon corners me near the break room. “You think that shit back there was funny?”

“I think you underestimate how obvious you both are.”

His face tightens. “Is that why you’re fucking him? To get even.”

I almost laugh at how ridicules that sounds.

“You are, aren’t you?” he snarls, face twisted. “I knew you were a whore sleeping your way to the top.”

I slap him. Hard.

Ignoring the sting on the palm of my hand. Rage triggering the violence I’ve been dying to unleash. As always, Landon flips the narrative, painting himself as victim and me as villain. And I am the villain—just not in the way he thinks.

His shock turns to rage as he grips my arm, fingers digging into my skin. I whimper as he shoves me into the wall.

Something glints across my vision; a hand wraps around Landon’s throat. “If you don’t let her go, I’ll break it.” Xaiden’s voice is low steel.

Landon gasps as Drazen tightens his grip.

“Let me go,” Landon wheezes.

But he doesn’t. My arm throbs as the feeling returns. I watch as Drazen leans in close, whispers something to Landon that makes his eyes widen with fear. “Nod,” he orders.

When Landon finally nods, he releases him and shoves him back. Xaiden waits until Landon composes himself and walks away.

Phone out, Xaiden turns his back to me, makes a call. When he’s done, he turns, meets my eyes. The look says: Follow.

In his office, he pours himself a Scotch. No ice. “Do you think what you did back there was wise?”

“I did what was necessary.”

He turns, gaze skating over me and shuts the door. “Humiliating him in front of everyone.”

“I gave him a dose of his own medicine. He's humiliated me for months.”

His gaze dips. “Are you hurt?”

I look up trying not to get lost in his dark gaze. “I’ll survive.”

His jaw tightens. “Why? You could have put yourself in real danger. Please don’t misconstrue what I’m saying he has no right to touch you but this is an HR nightmare.”

He means we could all lose our jobs and that can’t happen. Not when I’m this close.

He’s right about HR having no choice to terminate us if this went further but it had to stop. Landon still thought he stood a chance with me. Denting his inflated ego was the most effective way to get him to back off.

“I knew he’d confront me. I’ve moved out. Blocked his calls. He saw me here and assumed.”

“And what did he assume, Ms. Summers?”

“That I’m just another woman screwing her way up the ladder.”

“What did he say when he grabbed you?”

“Exactly that. He accused me of sleeping with you.”

“Are you?”

“No,” I lie, even though everything inside me aches to say yes.

“What made him think that?”

“The blouse.”

His gaze flickers to my shirt.

“What about it?”

“He knows it’s expensive. He assumed you bought it.”

He lifts the glass. “So, pointing out Chloe’s lipstick on his collar was a smart move?”

“It stopped the assumptions. Revealed the truth. The truth everyone’s been hiding from me. I knew he would eventually spread rumors about how I ended up working directly for you.”

He sips. “I’m not going to sit here and act innocent as if I didn’t know about them but it’s none of my business.”

I smile coldly. “So if I see someone you’re dating with another man, I should keep it to myself?”

His eyes narrow, glass hovering at his lips. “What makes you think I’d care?”

I raise my chin and meet his gaze. “I assumed a man like you would care if another man touched what’s his.”

He steps closer. The distance between us vanishes. I can smell the scotch on his breath—it shouldn’t smell good, but on him, it does. It’s tinged heat and danger wrapped in designer cologne.

“Let me see your arm,” he says softly.

I glance down at my blouse, confused. The only way for him to see the bruised skin is to unbutton the front and slide if over my shoulders. Completely inappropriate, but my fingers move anyway, slow and steady, the fabric resisting as if it knows better.

I slide one arm out, the blouse slipping from my shoulder. The edge of my bra. black mesh and barely modest, comes into view. He can’t see the piercings on my nipples, but something in his eyes begs me to show him more.

His breath hitches as he inspects my inner arm. It’s red, already promising a bruise right below the scab from the vase.

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” he asks, voice low, breath ghosting over my skin like it’s a balm to heal. Our gazes hold. My chest rises, heat coiling low in my belly. The room tilts with the weight of restraint.

“Not really, Mr. Drazen.”

He chuckles, the sound dark and indulgent. “I think it’s best you call me Xaiden.”

“Xaiden,” I whisper, tasting it on my lips making sure I don’t give RED away.

His gaze lingers on my mouth. His eyes burn through me with restrained hunger, and something twists tight in my chest. The air between us vibrates.

“You have my word, Nori. I won’t let him touch you like that again.”

He glances past me, then returns to me, gaze softer now but just as intense. “I think you should get back to work. You wouldn’t want there to be any truth to what he said.”

The words slice deeper than I expect. He’s protecting me but drawing a line too. He turns away, walking off, leaving me with desire still clinging to my skin.

I quickly button my blouse and return to my desk, my breath unsteady. Trying to figure out how I’m supposed to stay loyal to the people who constantly betray me, when all I want is the man I’m betraying.