Alfonso’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening into twin pools of icy void as he looked down at her.
He didn’t offer a single word to confirm or deny her suspicion.
Instead, his hand flat on her chest shifted, and with a ruthless, dismissive shove, he pushed her backward away from his body.
“Don’t ask so many damn questions, Joanne,” he growled, his deep voice vibrating with a dangerous warning.
Joanne gasped, her weak, trembling legs tangling beneath her as she stumbled blindly over the gravel.
Her balance completely shattered, and she almost fell flat on her back onto the hard tarmac, her hands flailing before her fingers caught the cold, metallic edge of the limousine’s open door just in time to steady her aching frame.
By the time she looked up, panting and flushing with a mix of pain and humiliation, Alfonso had already turned his back on her, walking toward the grand entrance with long, unbothered strides.
With Griffin tracking her closely from behind, Joanne had no choice but to force her bruised thighs to move, limping as they crossed the threshold into the palace.
The moment they stepped inside the foyer, Joanne’s professional mind suffered another violent shock.
The grand hall was crawling with several female servants, but none of them wore standard uniforms.
Every single woman was exceptionally beautiful, their bodies draped in highly seductive, revealing gowns made of clinging fabrics that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
Some gowns were slashed open down to the navel; others were so short and translucent that the dark lace of their undergarments was completely visible beneath the bright crystal chandeliers.
Joanne froze in her tracks, her wide eyes scanning the room in absolute surprise, wondering how a multi-billion-dollar empire could even allow its staff to serve guests in those types of clothes.
Griffin caught her staring, a low, knowing chuckle escaping his lips as he stepped up right beside her, his hands casually tucked into his suit pockets.
“Don’t be so shocked, sweet doctor,” Griffin whispered near her ear, his tone dripping with an amused, easygoing casualness.
“Our boss likes his women all sexy and showing some skin. It’s a mandatory dress code around here.”
Joanne’s mouth twisted in disgust.
She didn’t lower her voice as she gestured discreetly toward a tall blonde across the room, who was currently carrying a silver tray while wearing a silk gown that was completely backless and sheer at the hips.
“That doesn’t look like some skin, Griffin,” Joanne hissed, her husky voice raw and trembling with indignation.
“She is practically naked!”
“Oh, that’s Sophie. She’s the boss’ current favorite among the staff.”
Joanne frowned, a sudden, heavy knot tightening in her stomach.
“What exactly do you mean by ‘favorite’?”
Griffin shrugged his broad shoulders, his response completely nonchalant.
“Sex toy, of course. Whenever the boss has a stressful night, Sophie’s the one who usually gets called up to his quarters to handle his tension most of the times.”
Joanne’s face contorted in deep revulsion, a visible shudder running through her core.
Griffin noticed the sharp flash of emotion crossing her features, and his eyes gleamed with a sudden, teasing playfulness.
He leaned in a bit closer, raising an eyebrow.
“What’s with that face, Joanne? Don’t tell me you’re already jealous?”
“I am not jealous!” Joanne snapped instantly, her voice cracking as she pulled her nursing coat tighter around her body, desperately trying to shield herself from the hyper-sexualized atmosphere of the palace.
“He is a monster. I don’t care who he sleeps with.”
“Is that so?”
The deep, gravelly voice cut through their conversation like a physical blade.
Joanne stiffened, her breath catching in her throat as she realized Alfonso had stopped walking a few paces ahead.
He had been listening to their entire exchange without their consent, his powerful frame turned halfway toward them, his piercing, dilated eyes locking onto Joanne’s flustered face with a terrifyingly dominant intensity.
“If you’re so damn jealous, sweet doctor, then you’d better make sure you perform for me exceptionally well behind closed doors,” Alfonso murmured, his lips curving into a cold, wicked smirk that sent a jolt of fear straight down her spine.
“Satisfy my stamina completely, and I might just consider making you the only one allowed in my bed.”
Joanne immediately averted her gaze, looking away toward the grand marble staircase to hide the fierce, burning rage in her eyes.
In your wildest dreams, you psychotic bastard, she thought inwardly, her teeth clenching so hard her jaw ached.
Griffin chuckled loudly at his boss’ remark, gesturing for Joanne to start climbing the stairs alongside him as Alfonso strode off toward a pair of double doors on the ground floor.
“He’s not joking, you know,” Griffin murmured as they reached the sprawling upstairs corridor, his boots clicking softly against the polished floor.
“According to how long you kept my boss locked inside that VIP hospital room earlier tonight, you might actually become the only one if you continue with the same wild spirit. The boss has never stayed that long with Sophie.”
Joanne felt a suffocating wave of embarrassment wash over her.
She absolutely loathed discussing her private, intimate moments—especially the raw, feral encounter where her innocence had just been shattered—and she completely ignored Griffin, keeping her mouth shut as she dragged her aching, sticky body down the long hallway.
Griffin tracked her stiff, silent demeanor, a soft, mocking laugh escaping him as he stopped abruptly in front of a door near the end of the corridor.
He turned to face her, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“Oh, I see. So you’re the modest, quiet type. Fascinating.”
He reached out, turning the brass handle and pushing the door open, revealing a vast, luxuriously decorated bedroom suite complete with a massive plush bed, a private lounge, and an attached bathroom.
“Enter,” Griffin said smoothly, stepping aside to let her pass.
“This room is yours from now on. You’re safe here for the night.”
Joanne let out a long, ragged breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.
The exhaustion was finally crushing her, and her skin was practically begging to be cleansed of the sweat and the sticky fluids that were still dried against her inner thighs.
“Thank you,” she muttered in a small, tired voice, her steps turning eager as she looked toward the bathroom, desperate to finally freshen herself up and wash away the filth of her enemy.
But just as she crossed the threshold, Griffin ruined her mood entirely, destroying the fragile sense of peace she was trying to cling to.
He leaned against the doorframe, a dangerous unsettling smirk touching his lips as he pointed a finger toward the shared wall on the right.
“Just a heads-up, doctor… the boss’ master suite is right next door. Connected by the adjoining balcony.”
Joanne froze dead in her tracks, her entire face going completely ashen, the blood draining from her lips until she looked like a ghost.
Her heart knocked violently against her ribs.
Before she could even find her husky, ruined voice to protest or demand a different room, Griffin offered one final, devastating blow, his voice dropping into a lingering, chilling promise that left her entirely paralyzed:
“And knowing his current obsession with you, he might change his mind very soon and make you move into his bed permanently. There are changing clothes inside the wardrobes incase you need to shower and change.”