~Becklan's POV~
"No! No, no, no!" I started begging, backing up until my spine hit the marble wall.
He didn't wait. He grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. I cried out, but the sound was swallowed by the plushness of the room and the loud, rhythmic moaning still coming from the giant screen.
He didn't pull me gently. He pushed me, hard, and my body flew across the small space, landing with a jarring bounce on his enormous, sinful bed.
I scrambled backward on the mattress, trying to put distance between us, but Leon was already climbing onto the bed, towering over me.
"Please, Mr. President! Don't! I'll knock next time! I promise!" I pleaded, tears of pure panic welling in my eyes.
He pinned my wrist to the mattress with one hand, his weight heavy, inescapable. His breathing was fast and shallow.
"Too late for promises, Beck," he hissed, his voice raw. "You wanted the drama. You wanted attention. Now, you have my full attention."
His shadow fell over me, absolute and terrifying. The cold mattress pressed against my back, and the warmth of his naked body above me felt suffocating.
Pure, unfiltered panic ripped through my throat. "Please, Leon!" I shouted, the sound high and desperate. "I have never been touched like this before! I'm still a virgin!"
My own lie, the one I had used to manipulate him in the elevator, was immediately used against me.
He actually threw his head back and laughed. The sound was sharp, cruel, and completely insane in the small space.
"A virgin?" he mocked, his eyes flashing with dark amusement. "Who is also a blackmailer? Didn't you already tell me my touch broke your virginity in the elevator, Beck? What are you now, double-virgin? Which lie is it this time?"
The laughter, the proximity, the immense weight of him, it all shattered the last shred of my composure. I stopped arguing. I stopped lying.
"Please! Don't touch me! Please, don't hurt me!" I begged, genuine tears streaming down my temples and soaking into the pillowcase.
The fear was overwhelming, total. It consumed me instantly. I didn't just cry; I started shaking violently, a full-body tremor that rattled the bed frame. My breath hitched in my chest, a panicked, rapid shallow gasp.
The shaking must have been more real than any performance I had given. Because just as quickly as he had attacked, Leon froze.
His eyes, which moments ago were burning with cruel hunger, snapped wide. His fierce grip on my wrist loosened.
"Hey," he said, the raw intensity draining out of his voice, replaced by alarm. He quickly pushed himself off me, scrambling backward on the mattress. "Hey, hey, it's okay."
He wasn't moving to hurt me, but my body wouldn't obey. I couldn't stop shaking. I kept crying, trapped in the terror that transcended the room, unable to register his retreat.
"I was just trying to scare you, Beck," he murmured, his voice low and oddly pleading. He straightened, looming over the bed, his expression a mix of confusion and faint horror at how I'd reacted.
I kept sobbing, curled into a tight, miserable ball.
Leon cursed sharply under his breath. He snatched the towel from the floor, frantically wrapping it around his waist. He then rushed to his closet, throwing on a pair of pajama pants and a shirt, moving with desperate speed.
He came back to the edge of the bed and sat down gingerly, keeping a safe distance.
"I regret scaring you like that," he said, his voice flat with genuine chagrin. He reached out a hand, then pulled it back, hesitating. "I just wanted to teach you to knock. I didn't mean to—"
My shaking slowly subsided, replaced by cold, clammy exhaustion. I sniffed hard, wiping my face with the back of my hand. I quickly stood up, stumbling off the bed, and sprinted straight for the door.
I didn't stop until I reached the blessed safety of my own room. I slammed the door shut and collapsed against it, sinking to the floor.
The sobs returned, heavier this time, fueled by a memory far older than Leon. I cried until my throat was raw, my mind reeling, instantly transported back to the darkest moments of my past.
Just like my step-dad. The realization twisted in my gut. That sense of powerlessness, the way I looked, the way men saw me, Leon had just scared me with that exact, terrifying predatory look, all to teach me a lesson about manners.
He scared me, then regretted it. He thought that was enough. He thought his little 'lesson' was justified.
The shame was overwhelming, but it was quickly eclipsed by a surge of pure, crystallized hatred.
He thinks he can use my terror to teach me a lesson? I thought, scrubbing the tears off my face. He doesn't get to feel remorse now!
The fear was gone, leaving behind a hard, cold core of rage. Leon had crossed a line that no amount of money or revenge could erase. He had touched a trauma he knew nothing about.
"I hate you, Leon Verdanis," I whispered into the silent room. "You just gave me a hundred more reasons to destroy you."
Just then, a sharp, polite rap sounded on my door.
My entire body went rigid.
I slowly stood up and walked to the door, hesitating before pulling it open. My heart slammed against my ribs, but the panic was replaced by a cold, protective fury.
It was Leon. He was fully dressed now in dark, expensive loungewear, his face composed, the earlier look of alarm completely gone. He looked less like a panicked predator and more like a CEO about to issue a written reprimand.
I immediately rushed back three steps, throwing my hands up in a gesture of defensive space. "What do you want Mr. President?"
Leon sighed, a loud, put-upon sound of managerial frustration. "Can you just stop overreacting and see where you are wrong?"
I said nothing, just stood rigidly in the middle of my room, wrapped in my fear and fury. I watched him, my expression a blank mask, but inside, the hatred was growing, thick and toxic.
"I've told you several times to knock," he continued, his tone sharp, treating me like a child who'd lost his keys. "Wait for my permission before entering my room. That's my private space, I could be doing anything, just like tonight."
He made the pornographic climax sound like a basic, everyday activity I had rudely interrupted, not a shocking violation I had been forced to witness. His inability to see my fear—only my failure—was breathtaking.
I was silent I just watched him speak, the hatred intensifying with every arrogant word.
Leon ended his warning with a low, deliberate calm. "I only came back to tell you this, if it ever happens again, you'll learn a real lesson. Do you understand?"
I offered him no nod, no verbal acknowledgment. Just my empty, burning stare.
A real lesson? The words echoed in my head, cold and razor‑sharp. You idiot. You'd just handed me the perfect reminder of why I have to destroy everything you stand for. There was no coming back from this, no forgiveness, no second chances. My hatred for you, Leon, had settled deep into my bones. And I would never forget how your so‑called regret lasted barely thirty seconds.
He waited for a moment, absorbing my defiance, then gave a curt, impatient nod and turned away, shutting the door softly behind him.
I stayed frozen until I heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. Only then…