Chapter 1: Introduction
The fluorescent lights in the office hummed a low, constant buzz, casting a faint glow on the stark white walls. The air conditioning whispered through the vents, a chilly breeze that did little to cool the sweat beading on Tim's brow. He sat in the cold, hard chair outside Mr. Johnson's office, his fingers tapping nervously against his thigh. The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, each one stretching into an eternity as he waited for his name to be called.
Tim had always been small, even as a kid.
His mom used to call him her "little mouse," a nickname that, despite her best intentions, stuck with him into adulthood. He wasn't shy or timid, just... unimpressive. His frame was slight, his shoulders narrow, and his muscles barely visible beneath his pale skin. He was the kind of guy who blended into the background, the kind of guy no one noticed until he fucked up. Which, apparently, he'd done today.
The door to Mr. Johnson's office swung open, and his secretary, a tall, leggy blonde named Sarah, poked her head out. "Tim," she called, her voice as cold as her gaze.
"Mr. Johnson will see you now."
Tim hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and stepped into the office.
Mr. Johnson's office was a fucking power trip. The room was massive, the walls lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with leather-bound tomes that looked like they'd never been touched. A huge mahogany desk sat in the middle of the room, a throne of sorts, and behind it, Mr. Johnson himself.
Fuck. Tim felt like he was shrinking under the man's gaze.
Mr. Johnson was a mountain of a man, all broad shoulders and chiseled jaw, his skin tanned a deep golden brown. He was a picture of power and control, and right now, that power and control were focused solely on Tim.
"Sit down, Tim," Mr. Johnson rumbled, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down Tim's spine. He sat, his eyes flicking up to meet Mr. Johnson's, then quickly away again. He couldn't look at him, not with that intensity, that... hunger in his eyes.
"You know why you're here, Tim," Mr. Johnson said, his voice like a thunderclap in the silence of the room. He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, the fabric of his shirt pulling taut against his muscles. "You fucked up. Royally."
Tim nodded, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. "I-I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."
Mr. Johnson scoffed, his eyes raking over Tim like he was a piece of trash. "Sorry doesn't cut it, Tim. Not this time. You've caused a lot of problems with this little...
mistake of yours. We've lost a major client because of it." He stood up, towering over Tim, his words dripping with disdain. "So, tell me, Tim, what do you think your punishment should be?"
Tim's mouth went dry. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room, anywhere but at Mr. Johnson. "I-I don't know, sir. I'm sorry. I'll do anything to make it up to you."
Mr. Johnson walked around the desk, his footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor.