My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 208

Chapter 208

I felt that cold spike of panic in my chest. If I messed this up, Raphael would have another reason to look down at me. And he would always see me as the girl from the club, a body to look at, not a mind to respect.

I looked around the office. Everyone was busy. No one was looking at me.

I reached into the hidden pocket of my bag. My fingers closed around a small, black device.

It was my secret weapon.

I took a deep breath and glanced at my legs. I realized then why I wore this skirt in the first place. To use the device properly, I had to press it against the thin skin of my upper thigh, where the nerves were most sensitive

I shifted in my chair, pulling the hem of my pencil skirt up as high as it would go. I felt the cool air of the office hit my skin. I tucked my chin down, hiding my face behind my monitors, and pressed the silver prongs against my bare thigh.

I squeezed the trigger.

ZAP.

A sharp, white-hot bolt of electricity shot through my leg and raced up my spine. My whole body stiffened for a split second. My toes curled inside my heels, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from yelping. It felt like my brain had been unplugged and plugged back in. Everything went white, then grey, then perfectly, painfully clear.

I let out a long, shaky breath, my skin still tingling from the shock. I looked back at the screen.

The letters had stopped dancing for a second. I gripped the mouse, my knuckles white. I began to type, the sound of the keys clicking fast.

But ten minutes later, the words started to shiver again.

Zap.

Finally, Raphael hung up. He sighed, a long, tired sound, and rubbed the back of his neck before turning around. He looked at me, his eyes tracking the way I was breathing just a little too fast.

“Is it done?” he asked, his voice dry.

“Yeah,” I rasped. I walked forward, my steps feeling clunky and weird, and handed him the tablet, “The logs are cleaned up. The errors are highlighted.”

He took it without a word and sat back in his chair. I stood in front of his desk, my legs buzzing so hard I thought he might be able to hear it. He started to scroll. At first, his face was blank. Then, his brow furrowed. Then, he stopped scrolling and just stared at a single page.

“Gianna,” he said softly.

It was the kind of soft that was scarier than shouting.