Beneath the Table

For seven years, I was billionaire Sebastian Scott's dirty little secret in Washington D.C.

By day, I was his sharp, capable secretary. By night, I was his on-call plaything—always available, always giving him whatever he wanted.

I thought seven years of devotion would earn me a public commitment. Then the new intern walked into his office and changed everything.

I was forced to hide beneath his darkened desk, listening as he laughed softly for another woman just above me: "Scarlett Blake? She's nothing but a convenient outlet. How could she ever compare to you?"