Chapter 211: Dirty Laundry
Bill Franklin looked genuinely terrified now.
The confidence he had been forcing earlier was completely gone, replaced by a cold sweat
clinging to his temples.
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Dark stains had already started spreading beneath the arms of his light gray suit, and his breathing
was shallow-the unmistakable rhythm of a man in a full-blown panic.
“I… uh…” Bill swallowed hard, visibly struggling to gather his thoughts. “Mr. Blackwood… Brandy, sh
Ah-I can explain.”
Brandy let out a quiet scoff and shook her head.
Honestly? She wasn’t built for this corporate nonsense.
The stiff dress codes, the fake professionalism, the exhausting need to sound polished and
respectable every second of the day.
People here walked around pretending to be refined while stabbing each other in the back behind
meeting room doors and HR emails.
At least in clubs like Annie’s Fannies or the Velvet Room, everyone knew the score. Nobody
pretended to be innocent; it was the one place where these rich bastards felt safe enough to let
their inner animals out to play.
But here?
Here, they wore three-piece suits and practiced polite smiles, acting morally superior while burying
secrets far more disgusting than anything you’d find on a pole at 3:00 AM.
Watching Bill Franklin stammer and play the victim, Brandy felt a wave of nausea hit her.
She knew exactly what he was capable of behind closed doors-she’d seen his twisted fetishes firsthand and smelled the desperation on his skin.
She rolled her eyes so hard it bordered on theatrical, her patience finally snapping under the weight of his hypocrisy.
She couldn’t take another second of his desperate performance, watching him make a complete fool of himself trying to lie his way out of the gutter.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she snapped, her voice cutting through his stuttering like a whip. “Cut the pathetic act already, you dirty old man.”
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The entire floor went silent.
Several employees looked completely stunned.
Even Bill froze mid-sentence.
Brandy glanced around at everyone watching before letting out an exaggerated laugh, loud enough to echo across the department.
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“I’m done with this corporate nonsense,” she said sharply. Then, she pointed a manicured finger directly at Bill. “I’ll save you the trouble of explaining.”
Bill’s face drained instantly, turning a sickly, translucent white.
Brandy turned toward Hudson without hesitation, her eyes cold and steady.
“Mr. Blackwood, Bill Franklin’s a regular at Annie’s Fannies… and I’m the ‘mistress’ he hired to play
secretary so he could have a fix on company time.”
A ripple of shock moved quietly through the nearby employees.
“He promised me a better salary, a ‘respectable corporate position, and all that polished executive
garbage,” she continued mockingly. “Secretary position. Stable future. Fancy office. Benefits.”
Her lips curled coldly.
“In exchange for keeping him entertained, of course.” Her eyes flicked toward Bill, her gaze dripping
with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust.
“Shut up!” Bill roared, his face turning a frantic, blotchy purple. He took a staggering step forward,
his hands trembling. “Shut your mouth!”
Brandy didn’t even flinch. If anything, his panic only made her smirk grow sharper.
Brandy turned back to Hudson, her voice steady and mocking. “Everything you said is true-but as
you can see, your director seemed far more interested in what was under my blouse than anything
written on my résumé. My only real ‘qualification’ was being willing to let him put his hands
wherever he wanted.”
Bill looked seconds away from collapsing. But Brandy wasn’t done.
“As a matter of fact,” she added, her voice dropping into a flat, lethal calm that cut through the
room like a razor.
“Your director was too busy sucking my t**s, he didn’t even hear you coming.”
A collective, horrified gasp rippled through the rows of employees.
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Chapter 211 Dirty Laundry
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“He was desperate to get inside me, right up until the very second you arrived,” she sneered, her eyes locking onto Hudson’s. “Ask him yourself-I’m sure he still has the taste of me in his mouth.”
The silence that followed was absolute. It was the sound of a thirty-year career hitting rock
bottom.
Bill Franklin’s face went through a sickening transformation. First, the deep crimson of embarrassment drained away, leaving his features slack and colorless, as if the blood had
abandoned his face to pool in his shaking hands.
His mouth fell open, his lips trembling as he tried to find a breath that wouldn’t come.
“I… I…” Bill stammered, his hands shaking so violently he had to grip the edge of a nearby desk just
to stay upright.
He looked frantically at Hudson, then at the rows of his own employees who were now staring at
him with a mixture of horror and morbid fascination.
“She’s lying! Don’t believe her! This is just her delusional fantasy from a disgruntled…”
But his voice cracked, thin and high-pitched. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, tracing a
path through the expensive foundation he’d started wearing to hide his age.
He looked at Brandy, his eyes pleading for her to stop, but she only met his gaze with a look of
pure, vengeful triumph.
The room seemed to turn red for Bill Franklin as his last shred of dignity vanished.
The “Director” mask shattered, leaving behind nothing but a cornered, desperate man.
“You bitch!” Bill roared, his face contorting into a mask of pure, ugly rage. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking
kill you!”
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Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.