Madison

I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck - a very sexy, Alexander Knight-shaped truck. My body ached in places I'd forgotten existed, and my inner thighs bore the telltale bruises of last night's activities.

"Get it together, Madison," I muttered to my reflection as I applied concealer under my eyes. Despite my best makeup efforts, the woman staring back looked debauched.

The subway ride to work was torture. Every bump and sway reminded me of how Alexander had moved inside me. How his hands had gripped my hips. How he'd called me Katherine.

Katherine. The name bounced around my skull like an angry ping-pong ball.

I'd spent half the night googling "Katherine Alexander Knight" with zero results. Not that I was jealous or anything. I mean, why would I be jealous of someone whose name my boss moaned while high on God-knows-what?

The elevator ride up to the office felt longer than usual. I checked my phone seventeen times in thirty seconds, praying there wouldn't be a message from Alexander. Nothing. Thank God.

I peeked into Alexander's office. Empty. The relief that flooded through me was embarrassing.

Collapsing into my chair, I buried my face in my hands. "This is fine. Everything's fine. He probably doesn't even remember. And if he does, well... I'll just move to Antarctica. I hear they need secretaries there."

My phone buzzed. I jumped so hard that my knee slammed into the desk drawer.

I rubbed my throbbing knee while checking the message. Just a spam email about enlarging body parts I didn't possess.

The morning crawled by in a haze of paranoia. Every footstep in the hallway had me tensing like a guilty teenager. By ten, my neck muscles felt like steel cables from constantly whipping around to check the door.

My coffee mug sat empty, mocking me. I needed caffeine.

I grabbed my mug and power-walked to the break room. I beelined for the coffee maker, already tasting that sweet salvation.

"Madison! Just the person I wanted to see!"

I nearly dropped my mug. Stella from Accounting materialized beside me, grinning like she'd just discovered tax evasion in the company books.

"Hey, Stella." I focused on pouring coffee, willing my hands not to shake.

"So," She leaned against the counter, eyes twinkling. "Hot date last night?"

Coffee sloshed over the rim. "What? No. Why would you-"

"That's quite the love bite you're sporting." She pointed at my neck, smirking. "Unless you've taken up wrestling in your spare time?"

My free hand flew to my neck. Horror dawned as I felt the tender spot just below my ear. The spot where Alexander had marked me like some overenthusiastic vampire.

My mind raced faster than my morning subway ride. "Oh, this? My curling iron. Total klutz moment this morning." I forced a laugh that came out like a strangled cat.

"Must be some curling iron. Looks more like someone was trying to-"

"Would you look at the time!" I glanced at my naked wrist, where a watch definitely wasn't. "Those expense reports won't file themselves!"

"But you haven't finished your coffee-"

I abandoned my half-filled mug on the counter, speed-walking toward the exit with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. My heels clicked against the tile floor in what felt like morse code for "Help me!"

I collapsed into my desk chair, heart pounding like I'd just run a marathon in heels. My hands trembled as I tried to pull myself together. What was I thinking? Curling iron? Really? I might have said it was a one-night stand. That would have been slightly more believable. God, a one-night stand would be even worse.

Rumors about Alexander and me have been circulating since I became his PA. It was bad enough that I landed this position after being in the company for a short time.

Everyone thought I'd slept my way to the top, that I'd spread my legs for him to get ahead. Despite all my hard work, the whispers never stopped.

Colleagues who used to be friends now barely make eye contact with me. Their hushed conversations stop whenever I enter the room, replaced by forced smiles and awkward silence.

Although I didn't initially want this job, I took it because of the high salary necessary to cover my mom's medical expenses.

But now? The situation was an absolute mess. If anyone found out what happened last night, they'd think the rumors were true. They'd believe I used my body to climb the social ladder, something I would never do.

No one could find out that Alexander and I had slept together. The very thought twisted my stomach into knots. I prayed Alexander would forget it all, erasing the memory as if it never happened.

Of course, I knew I couldn't hide from him forever. Sooner or later, I'd have to report to him for work. But I was convinced the doctor would tell him nothing happened. And even if he remembered something, he'd go to Katherine.

Every woman Alexander slept with wanted to be his wife. So if he asked Katherine if she was with him the other night, she'd definitely say yes to get closer to him.

The conference room felt smaller than usual as I arranged the meeting materials, hyper-aware of Alexander's presence at the head of the table. My hands trembled as I distributed the financial reports, careful to keep my eyes glued to the papers.

"Everyone here?" Alexander's voice sent shivers down my spine. The same voice that had whispered things in my ear two days ago.

I risked a glance up. Fatal mistake.

His eyes caught mine, and suddenly, I was back in his penthouse, feeling his hands on my skin and his breath hot against my neck. My face burned hotter than fresh coffee.

"Miss Harper?"

I jumped, nearly dropping the remaining reports. "Yes, Mr. Knight?"

"The quarterly projections?"

Right. Work. Professional. I could do this. I shuffled through my papers, willing my racing heart to calm down.

"Here they are." My voice came out squeakier than a mouse in a cheese factory.

Alexander's brow furrowed. "Are you feeling alright? You look flushed."

Of course, I looked flushed.

"Just warm in here." I tugged at my collar, accidentally exposing the fading mark on my neck.

His eyes flickered to the spot, then back to the reports without recognition. Nothing. Not even a flicker of remembrance about our passionate night together.

The meeting droned on. I took notes mechanically, sneaking glances at Alexander between bullet points. He was completely at ease, discussing profit margins like he hadn't rocked my world two days ago.

The meeting finally ended, but my relief was short-lived. Alexander beckoned me into his office with a crook of his finger. My legs turned to jelly as I followed him inside.

He settled into his leather chair like a king on his throne while I hovered near the door like a guilty teenager. The morning sun through the tall windows bathed him in an angelic glow. Unfair. The man looked like he'd just stepped out of a magazine photoshoot while I fought the urge to bolt.

"Close the door, Miss Harper."

I did, my hand trembling slightly on the handle. This was it. He remembered everything and was about to fire me. Or worse, proposition me. I wasn't sure which scenario terrified me more.

"Take a seat." He gestured to the chair across from his desk.

I perched on the edge, ready to sprint at a moment's notice. The leather squeaked beneath me, betraying my nervousness.

Alexander shuffled some papers on his desk, his expression unreadable. My heart performed an Olympic-worthy gymnastics routine in my chest.

"I noticed something concerning." He looked up, those blue eyes piercing right through me.

He remembered everything. I'd be fired, humiliated, and probably end up on some reality TV show called 'I Slept With My Boss.'

"You didn't check in yesterday when I was absent."

Wait, what? Of all the things he could've brought up, he chose this?

"As my PA, I expect you to maintain contact, especially during unexpected absences." His tone carried that signature Alexander Knight authority, making board members squirm and competitors sweat.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. How exactly was I supposed to respond? 'Sorry I didn't check in; I was too busy having an existential crisis after our intense encounter where you called me another woman's name'?

"I apologize, Mr. Knight. I thought..." I thought you were sleeping off whatever happened between us. I thought you needed space. I thought a lot of things, none of which I could say out loud.

"You thought?" Alexander's piercing gaze made my brain cells commit mass suicide.

"I thought... well..." My mouth went drier than the Sahara. What could I say?

A phone's shrill ring cut through the tension. The ringtone echoed through his office like a chorus of angels. Thank you, merciful universe!

Madison

The shrill ring pierced through our conversation like divine intervention. I almost wept with relief.

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "That's your phone."

Oh. Right. My phone. The one currently screaming from my pocket like a banshee with its vocal cords caught in a blender.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Knight." I fumbled my phone, almost dropping it before answering. "Hello?"

"Is this Madison Harper?" A clinical voice cut through the line.

"Speaking."

"This is Metro General Hospital. Your mother, Sarah Harper, was brought to our emergency room-"

The world tilted sideways. The pristine office, Alexander's expensive desk, the Manhattan skyline - everything blurred into meaningless shapes.

"What happened? Is she-"

"She's stable now, but we need you to come in immediately."

I shot up from my chair. "I'll be right there."

"Madison?" Alexander's voice snapped me back to reality. "What's wrong?"

"My mom-she's in the ER. I have to go -" I gestured vaguely at the door.

"John will take you."

"What? No, I can't-"

"John," Alexander spoke into his phone. "Meet Miss Harper downstairs. Take her to Metro General."

"Mr. Knight, really, I can-"

"Go." His tone left no room for argument.

The elevator ride felt endless. John, Alexander's driver, waited by the sleek black car. He opened the door without a word, his usual stern expression softened with concern.

Traffic crawled like molasses. I bounced my knee, checking my phone every thirty seconds. John caught my eye in the rearview mirror.

"We'll be there in five minutes, Miss Harper."

The hospital smell hit me first - that distinct mix of antiseptic and despair. I rushed to the reception desk. "Sarah Harper? She was brought in-"

"Room 304." The nurse pointed toward the elevator. "Dr. Matthews is waiting to speak with you."

Mom looked small in the hospital bed, tubes snaking from her arms. But she was alive. Breathing. The monitor's steady beeping became my favorite sound in the world.

"Ms. Harper?" A doctor materialized beside me, clipboard in hand. "Your mother experienced severe complications from her condition. We managed to stabilize her, but she'll need specialized medication moving forward."

I nodded, relief making my knees weak. "Whatever she needs."

"The treatment plan..." He hesitated. "It's rather extensive. The medications alone-"

My stomach dropped as he quoted the figure. The number had more zeros than my bank account had seen in its entire existence.

"I understand." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "I'll handle it."

The doctor nodded and left me alone with Mom and my spinning thoughts. The amount he'd quoted could buy a luxury car or a designer handbag if you shopped where Alexander did.

The hospital bill loomed over me like a cartoon anvil, ready to drop. My savings wouldn't cover half of it. My credit cards were already maxed from the last hospital stay.

I slumped into the plastic chair next to Mom's bed, designed to make visitors uncomfortable. Maybe they thought discomfort would make people leave faster. Joke's on them - I wasn't going anywhere.

"Of course, we can set up a payment plan," the billing specialist chirped, way too perky for someone dropping financial nuclear bombs. Her badge read 'Janet.'

"Great." I forced a smile. "I'll definitely handle that." Handle it how? By robbing a bank? Selling my organs on the black market?

Janet slid the paperwork across the table, her French manicure tapping against the forms. "Just sign here, here, and... here." She pointed to various dotted lines, as if she were giving directions to Disney World instead of financial ruin.

I scribbled my signature, trying not to think about how each stroke of the pen was basically signing away my firstborn child-and possibly my second and third-just to cover the deductible.

"Perfect!" Janet beamed. "The financial office will contact you to set up the payment schedule."

"Can't wait," I muttered, watching her bounce away in her sensible shoes. I bet she had great health insurance.

Mom stirred in her sleep, and I reached for her hand. The monitor beeped steadily, each sound representing another dollar I didn't have. At this rate, I'd need to win the lottery. Too bad I couldn't afford lottery tickets anymore.

When I finally got home, my apartment felt empty and cold. I'd stayed at the hospital until visiting hours ended, watching Mom sleep and trying not to hyperventilate over the mounting bills.

My phone buzzed. Hazel's face popped up on the screen, caught mid-laugh at some party we'd attended months ago.

I swiped to answer, collapsing onto my couch. "Hey."

"Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you all evening!" Hazel's voice crackled through the speaker.

"Hospital. Mom had another episode."

"Oh god, Mads. Is she okay?"

"Stable now. But..." I pressed my palm against my forehead. "The bills, Haze. They're astronomical. Like, 'sell-both-kidneys-and-maybe-throw-in-a-lung' astronomical."

"How much?"

I quoted the number.

"That's..."

"Yeah." I stared at the ceiling. "I'm thinking of taking out loans, maybe picking up extra hours at work." My voice trailed off. Even with overtime, the math didn't add up. I'd need to work approximately three hundred hours a day, and last I checked, days still only had twenty-four.

Hazel's voice softened. "I can help. I've got some savings-"

"No." I sat up straight. "Absolutely not. You're saving for your photography studio."

"Which can wait. Your mom can't."

"I swear if you try to give me money, I'll replace all your camera lenses with plastic toys."

"Fine." She huffed. "Then let me help another way. I know some people looking for part-time help."

"What kind of help?"

"My friend Emily needs a virtual assistant. Just a few hours in the evenings, all remote. And there's this marketing agency that needs someone for small projects. Also remote."

"You know Knight Industries has a no moonlighting policy."

"Half the accounting department tutors kids on the side. Besides, it's not like you'd be working for competitors. Emily runs a boutique wedding planning business, and the agency handles local restaurants."

I chewed my lip. "How much are we talking?"

"The VA position is thirty an hour, and the agency projects vary but usually pay well."

My mental calculator whirred. That could actually dent the hospital bills.

"But," Hazel's voice turned serious, "if you get caught..."

"I know, I know. Immediate termination, possibly getting blacklisted, eternal shame, cats and dogs living together, mass hysteria."

"I'm just saying be careful."

"When am I not careful?"

"Do you want that list alphabetically or chronologically?"

"I hate you."

"Love you too. I'll send you Emily's contact info."

The next day, I juggled my regular work while sneaking peeks at Sarah's training materials. Multi-tasking reached new heights as I coordinated Alexander's meetings while learning to manage wedding vendor spreadsheets.

"Miss Harper?" Alexander's voice crackled through the intercom.

I shut my laptop, even though he couldn't see the wedding planning guides on my screen. "Yes, Mr. Knight?"

"The Bennett contract?"

Right. The contract I was supposed to review was due an hour ago, before I fell down a rabbit hole of flower arrangement logistics.

"On your desk in five minutes."

I speed-read through forty pages of legal jargon, my brain switching between corporate speak and wedding terminology. I was blaming sleep deprivation if I accidentally wrote "until death do us part" in a merger agreement.

By lunch, my brain felt like scrambled eggs. I inhaled my sandwich while watching tutorial videos on mute, praying no one would question why I was so interested in wedding planning software.

Back at my desk, I rubbed my eyes, willing the spreadsheet to make sense. The numbers danced across the screen like they were auditioning for Broadway, failing miserably.

"Miss Harper."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Alexander's voice through the intercom shouldn't have startled me - it's not like he installed surround sound just to give me a heart attack - but my nerves were already shot from juggling two jobs and approximately seventeen different kinds of guilt.

"Yes, Mr. Knight?" My voice was higher than a helium balloon at a kid's party.

"Come to my office."

Madison

The walk to his office felt like crossing a minefield in stilettos. Each step brought me closer to potential disaster. What if he'd noticed the wedding planning tabs I'd accidentally left open during our morning meeting? What if he remembered calling me Katherine?

Standing outside his door, I took a deep breath. Whatever happened, I'd handle it with grace and professionalism. Or at least try not to cry on his expensive furniture.

I pushed open the door, half expecting to find Alexander surrounded by printouts of my secret virtual assistant activities. Instead, he sat at his desk, looking annoyingly put together while I felt like a house plant that hadn't been watered in weeks.

"Miss Harper." He gestured to the chair across from him. "Have a seat."

I perched on the edge like it might bite me. "Is something wrong?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you." His blue eyes fixed on me with laser focus. "You've seemed distracted lately. More than usual."

Was he keeping a log of my distraction levels?

"I noticed you almost sent the Singapore proposal to our Tokyo office this morning."

Oh god. I had done that. "I caught it before-"

"Yesterday, you scheduled my lunch meeting for 3 AM."

"That was..." Actually, I had no defense for that one. I'd been coordinating a destination wedding timeline for Emily when I made that calendar entry.

"Is everything alright?" His voice softened. "Your mother - how is she doing?"

His genuine concern caught me off guard. "She's stable. Thank you for asking and for sending John that day."

"Madison." He leaned forward, and my heart did a weird flip. "If you need help, just say it."

I blinked. Was this Alexander Knight offering emotional support? Maybe I'd fallen asleep at my desk, and this was some weird dream brought on by too much coffee and wedding planning tutorials.

"I..." The words stuck in my throat. Was he asking as my boss? As the guy who'd drunkenly made out with me and called me another woman's name? As a concerned friend?

Friend? Yeah right. Next, I'd start believing in unicorns and affordable Manhattan rent.

As if reading my internal crisis, he added, "The company has programs for employees facing emergencies. Medical assistance, temporary leave, financial support."

Oh. Right. This was Professional Alexander. Much safer territory than whatever that other thing was.

"Thank you, Mr. Knight. I'll look into those programs if- when I need them." I forced a smile that looked more like a facial cramp.

"You don't need to wait until things get desperate." He raised an eyebrow. "That's not exactly the best business strategy."

Coming from the man who once bought an entire yacht because he liked its rich name. But I kept that thought to myself.

"I appreciate the concern, really. But I've got everything under control." Like a tornado had control of Kansas.

"Of course." He leaned back, clearly not believing a word. "Just remember my door is always open."

"Thank you, sir." I stood up, ready to escape, before he could sense my mounting panic or notice the wedding planning spreadsheet I'd minimized on my desktop.

"Oh, and Madison?"

I froze halfway to the door. "Yes?"

"Next time you schedule a 3 AM lunch meeting, ensure it's with someone in a different time zone. At least then we can pretend it was intentional."

Was that a joke? From Alexander Knight? I may have fallen asleep at my desk.

"I'll keep that in mind." I hurried out before he could notice my face turning the color of a fire truck.

The next few days were a whirlwind of chaos and caffeine. My life became an endless loop of office work, virtual assistant tasks, and wedding planning research.

"Madison, are you okay?" Hazel's voice crackled through my phone one evening as I hunched over my laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard.

"Define 'okay,'" I muttered, switching tabs between Alexander's schedule and a vendor contact list. "If by 'okay,' you mean drowning in work and contemplating living off ramen noodles to save money, then yeah, totally okay."

"You need to take a break."

"A break?" I laughed humorlessly. "What's that? Some kind of new app?"

"Just don't burn out, alright? We need you sane."

"Sane is overrated," I mumbled, eyeing the clock. It was well past midnight. Again.

I fell into a rhythm – or, more accurately, a controlled tailspin. Every waking hour was accounted for, every minute planned out with military precision. It worked fine until Thursday afternoon, when everything went spectacularly wrong.

"Miss Harper!" Alexander's voice boomed through the intercom. "Where's Mr. Chen?"

My heart stopped. Mr. Chen? The important client we had scheduled to meet at... oh no.

I scrambled for my calendar, my brain a tangled mess of dates and times. "Uh, his meeting is tomorrow at-"

"No." Alexander's tone could've frozen lava. "It was today at 3 PM."

Panic surged through me like cold water. I glanced at the clock: 3:15 PM.

"I-I'm so sorry," I stammered. "I must have mixed up the dates in the calendar."

"My office. Now." The intercom clicked off with the finality of a coffin lid.

I grabbed my tablet and practically sprinted to his office, my heels clicking against the floor like a countdown to my execution. When I burst through the door, Alexander stood by the window, his shoulders tense beneath his perfectly tailored suit.

"Sit." He didn't turn around.

I dropped into the chair, clutching my tablet like a shield. "Mr. Knight, I can explain-"

"Can you?" he spun around, his expression unreadable. "Because the Madison Harper I know doesn't mix up meetings. Mr. Chen's company accounts for forty percent of our Asian market share. Do you have any idea how much damage your mistake could cause the company? "

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. He was right. I was usually meticulous, organized, and borderline obsessive about details.

"The Madison Harper, I know, doesn't schedule meetings at 3 AM or send contracts to the wrong offices." He walked to his desk, each step deliberate. "That Madison disappeared somewhere in the last few weeks."

"I've just been-"

"Busy? With what exactly?"

Something in his tone made my skin prickle.

"Would you like to tell me yourself what's going on?" He leaned forward onto his desk. "Before this becomes more serious than a missed meeting?"

"Sir, I promise it won't happen again. I've just been dealing with some personal-"

"Personal matters?" He picked up a folder and tossed it between us on the desk. "Like moonlighting as a virtual assistant?"

Oh god.

He flipped open the folder, revealing screenshots of emails, contract agreements, and wedding planning documents. "Or perhaps you'd like to explain these?"

"I... how did you..."

"Our IT department flagged unusual activity on your work computer." He was looking more disappointed than angry. "Wedding planning websites. Virtual assistant training modules. Contracts with external clients."

My career flashed before my eyes. Along with my ability to pay rent, buy food, or cover Mom's medical bills.

"Mr. Knight, please." My voice cracked. "I can explain everything."

"I'm listening."

"Mom got sick again. The medical bills are crushing us. Insurance covers less than half, and I didn't know what else to do. I needed extra income, and these jobs were remote, and I thought if I was careful..."

"If you were careful, you wouldn't get caught?" He finished my sentence. "You violated your contract. The company could fire you and sue you for breach of contract."

Tears pricked at my eyes. "Please. I'll stop the extra work immediately. I just need more time to prove myself. To make this right."

Alexander stared at me for a long moment, his expression shifting from stern to something else entirely. "I might have a solution for you. But first, we need to discuss what happened the other night."

My stomach dropped to the floor. "The other night?"

"When you found me in my penthouse."

"Oh, that. You weren't feeling well, so I called the doctor. That's all."

"The doctor found traces of a rather dangerous substance in my system. If you hadn't called him..." He leaned forward. "You probably saved my life, Madison."

Relief flooded through me. He was thanking me. This was good. This was safe territory.

"Anyone would have done the same," I mumbled.

"The thing is..." He stood up and walked around his desk. "The doctor needs to know exactly what happened before he arrived. For his diagnosis."

I scooted my chair back slightly. "I told him everything important."

"Did you?" He perched on the edge of his desk, too close for comfort. "Because I have these... fragments of memory. Quite interesting ones."

My face burned. "You should rest more. Drink water. Take vitamins."

He actually laughed. "That's your medical advice?"

"I'm not a doctor." I gripped the arms of my chair. "Shouldn't you ask him these questions?"

"I'm asking you. What happened in that penthouse?"

"Nothing! I helped you to bed. Called the doctor. The end."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something that made my heart stop: my hair tie-the purple one with the little butterfly charm.

"Then what's this doing in my bed?"

I stared at the hair tie dangling from his fingers.