The door opened again.

A different man walked in. He looked young, maybe thirty, with dark hair and expensive glasses. He wore a nice suit and walked like he owned everything.

This had to be the real boss.

Behind him came the naked man. Now fully dressed in a different suit, dark blue this time. He didn't look at me. Just walked to the side of the room and leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

My stomach dropped.

He was going to watch. He was going to sit there and watch me interview while he knew what happened between us.

"Jolene." The man sat down behind a desk I hadn't seen before. "I'm Marco Marchetti. Sit."

I sat. My hands were shaking so I folded them in my lap.

Marco opened a folder. My resume, probably. He looked at it for a while without saying anything.

The silence was killing me.

"You're from Texas." He didn't look up.

"Yes, sir."

"No experience as a personal assistant."

"No, sir, but I'm a fast learner"

"No references from previous employers."

My mouth went dry. "I...I worked at a diner back home, but it closed down. I can try to find"

"Why Italy?" He looked at me. His eyes were cold. "Why this job?"

I glanced at the naked man. He was watching me with that same amused expression.

"I needed a change," I said. "A fresh start."

"Running from something?"

"No, I just"

"Financial troubles? Legal issues? Failed relationships?"

"No, nothing like that, I just wanted"

"You just wanted what, Jolene?" He leaned back. "To come to another country with nothing and expect someone to give you a job?"

Each word hurts.

"I'm willing to work hard," I said quietly. "I'll do whatever you need."

"Whatever I need." He repeated it like it was funny. "That's what they all say."

The naked man shifted. I could feel him watching me.

"Tell me, Jolene, why should I hire you?"

I wasn't. We both knew it.

"I'm... I'm organized. I pay attention to details. I follow instructions well."

"Do you?" Marco's eyebrow went up. "You couldn't even find the right waiting room earlier."

My face got hot. He knew. Of course he knew.

"I'm sorry about that, I was"

"Lost?" He cut me off. "Confused? Can't even follow simple directions?"

I couldn't speak. My throat felt tight.

"This job needs someone who can handle pressure, make decisions, and be professional." He closed the folder. "I don't think that's you."

The words hurt. I knew this was a long shot, but hearing him say it made it real.

"Please," I heard myself say. "Just give me a chance. One chance to prove myself."

"A chance." He stood up. "You've already had a chance, Jolene. You wasted it the moment you walked into the wrong room."

He walked toward the door.

The interview was over. Just like that.

I sat there, frozen. This couldn't be it. I'd come all this way. I had nothing to go back to.

"Mr. Marchetti, please"

"Enzo will show you out." He gestured to the naked man.

Enzo. So that was his name.

Marco left without another word.

I stood up. My legs felt weak. Enzo got off the wall and walked over.

"Come on," he said quietly.

"I messed up." My voice cracked. "I really messed up."

"You did."

"Is there any way I can talk to him again? Explain?"

"No." He opened the door. "He's made his decision."

I followed him into the hallway. My eyes were getting blurry. I wasn't going to cry. Not in front of him.

"I have nowhere to go," I said. "I used all my money to get here."

Enzo stopped walking. He turned to look at me.

"That's not my problem."

"I know. I just said " My voice broke. "I just needed you to know."

He looked at me for a second. Something changed in his face, but it was gone fast.

"The car will take you back to the airport." He started walking again. "Your flight leaves in three hours."

That was it. Three hours and I'd be back in Texas with nothing. No job. No money. No future.

We reached the front door. The same security guard from earlier was there. He didn't look at me. He just handed me my suitcase.

"Wait here," Enzo said. "The driver will come get you."

He turned to leave.

"Thank you," I said. I don't know why. Maybe because he was the last person I'd see before everything fell apart.

He paused. "For what?"

"For not telling him. About earlier."

Enzo's mouth curved into that smile. Not nice, but not cruel either.

"Who says I didn't?"

Then he was gone.

I stood there in the entrance of this big house, alone. The security guard ignored me. Everything was quiet except my heart breaking.

I'd failed. Totally failed.

A black car pulled up outside.

Time to go home to nothing.

I sat in the back of the black car, staring at my suitcase. The broken wheel just reminded me how messed up everything was.The driver hadn't said a word. Just opened the door, waited for me to get in, closed it behind me.

I was really leaving. Going back to Texas with nothing.

The car door opened again.

Enzo slid into the seat next to me.

My heart jumped. "What!"

"Drive," he told the driver. The car started moving.

I moved as far away from him as I could. "What are you doing?"

"We need to talk." He settled back in the seat, looking completely relaxed. Like this was normal.

"About what? He already said no. I failed."

"Did you?" Enzo's mouth curved into that smile.

I stared at him. "He told me to leave. He said I wasn't right for the job."

"He said a lot of things." Enzo turned to face me. "Tell me, Jolene. What did you think of the interview?"

"What does it matter? It's over."

"Just answer the question."

I looked away. "It was awful. He made me feel like shit."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"What do you think?" My voice cracked. "Like an idiot. Like I was nothing."

"But you didn't leave."

"What?"

"When he was insulting you, making you feel like shit, you didn't walk out. You stayed. You begged for another chance." He leaned closer. "Why?"

"Because I need this job."

"Say it again."

"I need this job," I repeated.

"Louder."

"I need this job!" My voice broke. "I have nothing else. Nowhere else to go. I'll do anything"

"There it is." Enzo reached out and caught my chin, turning my face toward him. "That desperation. That honesty. That's what we wanted to see."

I tried to pull away but his grip was firm.

"What are you talking about?"

"The interview was a test, Jolene." He laughed a little. His thumb ran across my bottom lip. "All of it. You walked into my room, the interview, Marco kicking you out. We were testing you the whole time."

My brain stopped working.

"Testing me?"

"Marco needed to know if you'd break under pressure. If you'd run when things got hard. If you'd fight for what you wanted." His hand slid from my chin to the side of my neck. "You passed."

"I..i what?"

"You got the job."

The words didn't make sense. I stared at him.

"You're lying."

"I'm not." His hand was warm against my throat. Not squeezing, just resting there. A reminder that he could. "Marco wants someone who won't quit. Someone who needs this badly enough to endure anything. Someone..." His thumb pressed against my pulse. "Someone we can mold."

Humiliation washed over me. They played me. Made me beg. Made me cry. Watch me fall apart. All as some sick test.

"You're an asshole," I whispered.

He laughed. Actually I laughed. "There she is. I was wondering when you'd grow a spine."

"Fuck you." The words came out before I could stop them. "You think this is funny? Playing with people? Making them feel like shit for your entertainment?"

"Careful, Jolene." His hand tightened slightly on my throat. Not hurting, but warning. "You still need this job, remember?"

"Maybe I don't want it anymore. Maybe I don't want to work for people who get off on humiliating others."

"Really?" He leaned in close, his breath against my ear. "Then tell me to stop the car. Tell the driver to take you to the airport. Walk away."

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

"That's what I thought." His hand slid down from my neck to my chest. "You're angry. Good. Use that. But don't forget, you need us more than we need you."

I hated how right he was.

"Say it," he demanded.

"I need the job."

"Beg for it."

My face burned. "What?"

"You heard me. Beg me for this job. Convince me you want it."

"Please." The word tasted bitter. "Please let me have this job."

"Louder. Like you mean it."

"Please!" My voice cracked. "I need this. I'll do whatever you want. Just please"

"Good girl." His hand moved lower, fingers trailing between my breasts. Not quite touching, but close enough to make my breath catch. "So here's how this works. You do exactly what Marco tells you. No questions. No complaints. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Say it."

"I understand."

"And me?" His voice got quieter. "What are you going to do when I give you orders?"

My mouth went dry. "I..I don't work for you."

"Don't you?" His hand pressed flat against my stomach. "You think Marco makes decisions alone? You think he didn't talk to me before choosing you?"

The pieces clicked together.

"You're part of this. Part of the decision."

"Smart girl." His hand stayed where it was, burning through my blouse. "So when I tell you to do something, you'll do it. Just like you will for Marco. Because you need this job so badly you'll endure anything. Won't you?"

Tears stung my eyes. He was right. I would.

"Won't you?" he repeated.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'll do what you tell me." The words tasted like shame.

"That's what I thought." He pulled his hand away and leaned back. "Driver, take us back to the estate."

The car turned around.

I sat there, shaking. My body still wanted him even though I hated him.

"Welcome to your new life, Jolene." Enzo looked out the window. "It's going to be interesting."

I didn't say anything. What could I say?

The car drove in silence for a minute. Then Enzo spoke again.

"Oh, one more thing."

I looked at him.

"There's one more test you need to pass tonight."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"You'll see when we get there." His smile was dangerous. "Let's hope you're ready for it."

He didn't say anything else. Just looked out the window like he didn't just drop a bomb on me.

I held onto my suitcase. My heart was going crazy.

One more test.

What the hell did that mean? 

The car drove through the gates and stopped. Same villa as before.

I was terrified.

Enzo got out first. I grabbed my suitcase and followed.

The front door opened before we reached it. Marco stood there, looking exactly the same as he had during the interview. Cold. Professional. In control.

"Welcome back, Jolene." He moved out of the way so we could come in.

I walked past him, dragging my suitcase behind me. The broken wheel made noise in the entrance hall.

"Leave it," Marco said, nodding at my suitcase. "Someone will take it to your room."

I let go of the handle. My hands felt empty without it.

"Follow me." Marco walked toward a different room than before. Enzo walked next to me.

I was trapped between them. Two tall men who looked at me like I was something they owned.

We entered what looked like a study. Nice desk, fancy chairs, books everywhere. There was a bar cart with expensive-looking bottles in the corner.

"Sit," Marco said, pointing at a chair.

I sat.

He walked behind his desk but didn't sit. Just stood there, looking down at me. Enzo leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Watching.

"Your job starts now," Marco said. "Not tomorrow. Now."

My mouth went dry. "Okay."

"This is your final test. Pass it, and you have the job. Fail, and the car takes you to the airport. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He gestured to the bar cart. "Pour me a whiskey. Two fingers. No ice."

I stood up and walked to the cart. My hands were shaking as I picked up a glass. I had no idea which bottle was whiskey.

"The one on the left," Enzo said from behind me.

I nearly dropped the glass. I hadn't heard him move.

He was right behind me now. Close enough that I could feel the heat from his body.

"Pour it," he said quietly.

I picked up the bottle with shaking hands. Poured what I thought was two fingers. Some spilled on the cart.

"Messy," Enzo said quietly. His hand touched my lower back. "Do it again."

"I already poured it."

"I said try again." His hand pressed harder.

I poured the whiskey back into the bottle. I tried again. This time I didn't spill.

"Better." His hand stayed on my back as I carried the glass to Marco.

Marco took it without looking at me. "Now pour one for Enzo. Scotch. Three fingers. One ice cube."

I went back to the cart. Enzo moved with me, his hand never leaving my back.

I found the scotch. Poured three fingers. Reached for the ice.

"Wrong glass," Enzo said. His other hand came up and wrapped around my wrist. "That's for whiskey. Use the shorter one."

He guided my hand to a different glass. His body was pressed against my back now. I could barely breathe.

I poured the scotch into the right glass. Added one ice cube with shaking hands.

"Good girl." His breath was warm against my ear.

I brought him the glass. He took it but didn't step back. Just smiled that smile and took a sip.

"Acceptable," he said.

Marco sat down behind his desk. "Come here."

I walked over to him.

"You'll be taking notes. Every meeting, every call, every conversation I have that matters." He pulled out a leather notebook and a pen. "Write this down: Meeting with Castellano. Tuesday. 3 PM. Location TBD."

I took the notebook and pen. Wrote it down. My handwriting looked terrible because I was nervous.

Marco looked at what I wrote. "Again. Neater this time."

I crossed it out. Wrote it again neater.

"Better." He leaned back in his chair. "You'll learn fast or you're out. Simple as that."

"Yes, sir."

"Now." Marco gestured to a stack of folders on his desk. "Organize these alphabetically. You have five minutes."

I reached for the folders. There had to be at least twenty of them.

"Four minutes and fifty seconds," Marco said, checking his watch.

I started sorting. My hands were shaking so hard I kept dropping them. Behind me, I could hear Enzo moving around. I didn't dare look.

Halfway through, Enzo appeared beside me. He picked up one of the folders I'd already sorted and moved it.

"Wrong," he said. "This one goes first."

"But that's not alphabetical."

"Are you arguing with me?" His hand landed on my hip.

"No, I just."

"Fix it."

I fixed it, even though I knew I was right.

"Three minutes," Marco said.

I worked faster. Enzo stayed next to me, his hand moving from my hip to my lower back, then higher. His fingers traced along my spine through my blouse.

"Focus, Jolene," he murmured. "Don't let me distract you."

But he was. I kept losing track of which letter came next.

"Two minutes."

I was almost done. Just three more folders.

Enzo's hand slid around to my stomach. Pressed flat against it through the fabric.

"Keep working," he said softly.

I grabbed another folder. My hands are shaking worse now.

"One minute."

I put the last folder in place just as Marco said, "Time."

He stood up and walked around the desk. I looked at my work.

"Close," he said. "But not perfect. You put Jenkins before Jimenez."

I looked. He was right. I'd messed up one.

"I'm sorry, I."

"No excuses." Marco stepped closer. He was right in front of me now. Enzo was still behind me, his hand on my stomach. "In this job, being close isn't good enough. Perfect or nothing. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Say it again."

"Perfect or nothing."

"Good." Marco's eyes dropped to where Enzo's hand rested on my stomach. "Now let's see how well you follow instructions."

My heart started pounding harder.

"Enzo," Marco said, not looking away from me. "Let her go."

Enzo's hand disappeared. I could breathe again.

Marco walked back behind his desk and sat down. "There's one more thing you need to understand about this position, Jolene."

I waited.

"Your job is to assist me in every way I require. Professional tasks, personal tasks, whatever I need." He leaned forward. "That means when I tell you to do something, you do it. No hesitation. No questions. Complete obedience."

"I understand."

"Do you?" His eyes were cold. "Because I'm about to give you an order. And how you respond will determine whether you sleep here tonight or at the airport."

The room went silent except for my heartbeat.

Marco stood up slowly. Walked around his desk. Stopped right in front of me.

"Take off your blouse."

I stared at him. My brain stopped working.

Behind me, I heard Enzo shift. Waiting.

Marco's expression didn't change. "I gave you an order, Jolene. Are you going to follow it?"