Chapter 1

This was my fifth year as Samuel Reed's publicly acknowledged mistress.

We had spent the whole night tangled up together. By dawn, I could barely hold myself together, but I still dragged my aching body to make him breakfast.

Before I could leave, a large hand caught my arm. "Throw the condom away. I don't want to see a single strand of your hair in this room." His voice came from behind me leisurely.

Samuel rolled over, showing his chiseled abs as he propped himself against the headboard and lit a cigarette. "Vivian is coming back to the country," he said coolly. "You need to make yourself scarce for a while."

My hands fumbled with my bra clasp for a split second. "Okay."

"And one more thing, she's a clean freak. Disinfect the whole place, inside and out," he said.

"Okay," I replied.

Samuel had once said he never lacked women. What he lacked was someone obedient, someone soft, someone who knew how to put up with things. That was why I got to stay by his side.

Because of that, he was convinced I would never slip through his fingers. Too bad for him, this time, he was wrong.

*****

I was in the kitchen whipping up some eggs and bacon when Samuel came downstairs, fully dressed and groomed for the day.

"Claire, clear out the maid's quarters," he called out from the stairs. "You're moving in there tonight."

"Okay," I replied softly, not looking up.

"And those flowers of yours, the wall art—toss it all. Vivian can't stand anything cheap," he added.

Before I could even agree, Samuel's arms circled my waist from behind. He buried his face in my neck, his breath warm and playful against my skin. "What's the matter? Got a bone to pick with me?"

"Not at all," I lied, keeping my voice light. I pried his hands off and picked up the plate of eggs. "Move it, or you'll get burned."

I brushed past him and set the breakfast on the table. "Eat up. You've got work, and that meeting starts at ten."

Samuel sat down, watching me with a smug, knowing look. "That's what I love about you. You always know your place."

I gave a calm smile and turned back to the bedroom to clean up the mess from last night.

I had always been understanding.

Every time Samuel came home from a night out networking, I would tidy things up for him.

If I found a stray lipstick in his coat pocket, I'd place it right next to his watch. That way, when he put his watch on the next morning, he wouldn't forget to return it to its owner.

If his white shirt had lipstick stains or long strands of hair, I dealt with it quietly. I made sure his shirt was spotless.

Once, he even forgot his ID while checking into a hotel with another woman; I was the one who personally delivered it to him.

For five years, I was his submissive, low-maintenance lover. And I was also his debtor.

Speaking of Samuel, I suppose I should thank him.

I was born into poverty. When I was ten, my father broke his leg at a construction site and could no longer work. My mother couldn't take the pressure and walked out on us.

If I wanted to stay in school, I had to beg every relative I had for money. They all treated me like the plague.

Luckily, a kind sponsor helped me scrape through my education. Later, through the school, I finally met the person who had been supporting me all those years—Samuel.

To repay him, I promised that after graduation, I would work for him for the rest of my life until I paid off my tuition. He didn't object.

Once I joined Reed Corporation, I proved myself quickly. I was sharp and capable and brought in a lot of profit for the company. By then, the money I owed him had long since been paid off.

Samuel's father noticed I was sharp and had a keen eye for detail, so he assigned me as Samuel's personal assistant. I took care of everything in his daily life and helped with his work on top of that.

One night at a gala, I took Samuel, who was drunk, home. He used the alcohol as an excuse, and that night, we crossed a line.

I thought it was just a one-night stand, a temporary lapse in judgment that wouldn't go anywhere.

But then, unfortunately, my father fell gravely ill, and his medical bills skyrocketed to a million dollars. As a mere employee, there was no way I could scrape that kind of cash together.

That was when Samuel stepped in. But he had one condition. He wanted me to be his mistress. Not the kind kept in the shadows, but the obedient kind.

To put it bluntly, I had to come when he called and leave when he was done until I paid off the debt.

Maybe it was because I'd been around him too long. Back then, I already had feelings for Samuel. So being his mistress wasn't something I couldn't accept.

Still, Samuel was certain I would never slip out of his grasp, that I would be his plaything for the rest of my life.

Because I knew how to endure and because he held the purse strings to my father's life support, that gave him the right to toy with my body and even my feelings.

But what Samuel didn't know was that I had made a deal with myself. If I couldn't make him fall for me within five years, I would pay off the debt and leave for good with a clean slate.

"Not a strand of hair." Samuel's voice suddenly came from behind me.

I paused, then turned and gave him a smile. "Got it."

"Go buy some ultra-thin condoms. I'll need them tonight," he added.

"Okay," I replied.

After he left, the strength drained out of me, and I sank to the floor like a deflated balloon.

This time, it felt different.

I could usually turn a blind eye to his flings, but the mention of Vivian Wynn made my chest tighten with a dull, throbbing ache.

Vivian was his match in a business marriage. They had been promised to each other since childhood.

She was his fiancée in every sense of the word, and her return only meant my relationship with Samuel was over.

As it turned out, my deadline as his mistress was exactly three days away.