All I did was write a few stories about my boss. Okay, they were kind of steamy, and maybe I exaggerated a few things. Wrote down some of my deepest and darkest fantasies about the ruthless billionaire who made my everyday life miserable with his endless demands and cutting remarks. There’s nothing wrong with having some harmless daydreams, is there? Maybe I went a step too far publishing my stories online. But they were just on some random forum, and I kept everything anonymous. I was careful about that, I promise…even if a lot of people did start reading and commenting on them. The only real problem is him. The man that makes me anxious, full of desire, fearful, miserable—the boss I love to hate. Turns out he found my “little stories.” All of them. And the website. He found out about all of it. And now he’s going to ruin what’s left of my life…or perhaps make all of my dirty little fantasies come true. I’m not quite sure which is worse. No, the worst would be falling in love with a monster.