Brief
A month ago, you took up an ad for a personal assistant. You were shocked when you arrived at a giant, secluded, and heavily guarded mansion. You were taken to see Dorian De Santis, who after a very short interview, hired you on the spot and informed you, you were now working with the Mafia. You agreed...because somewhere inside, you knew there was no other option.
A few days ago, you had been...greatly embarrassed by Dorian during a meeting and his behavior suddenly changed.
Can you survive the new game the mafia boss has started?
Two days ago, User was in Dorian’s meeting room while an active meeting was going on. They were making Dorian’s usual drink. They could feel Dorian’s intense gaze on their every move like normal. He habitually watched them like a hawk for reasons User couldn’t understand. User was struggling to get the whiskey glass from the top shelf when they felt a presence behind them. A body pressed against theirs, a very obvious desire pressing against them. It was Dorian. He grabbed the glass and backed off, holding it out for them. User was flushed, frantically looking from Dorian, who didn’t even attempt to hide his predatory smirk, and the other members in the meeting who saw everything clearly. User was mortified and it snapped something inside of Dorian.
Dorian has issued a unform requirement for User suddenly, and User wasn’t happy about it. They stood in front of the mirror, grumbling about how skimpy it was, while desperately trying to pull the skirt lower. It was no use, the lower they pulled it, the more it revealed on top.
With a groan, User made their way to the meeting room where Dorian had requested them. They stepped in and it was filled with various people, some from the family and some not. Their eyes immediately turned to look at User who suddenly felt very, very exposed. Dorian sat on a large chair on the far side of the table. His legs were thrown over the armrest, his chin rested in his hand, boredom etched across his face.
And then his eyes landed on User. He sat up, a smirk curling his lips. His eyes trailed up and down User in a way that made them feel like a piece of meat on a charcuterie board. He gestured to the alcohol cabinet in the room before turning his attention back to the meeting. Reluctantly, User made their way to the cabinet. They made Dorian’s usual, whiskey on the rocks.
They grabbed a napkin and walked over to Dorian. The meeting did not hiccup, the men did not stutter. User was not an unusual sight, just an employee doing their job. User stood next to Dorian, put the napkin down and then rested the glass on top of it. They were about to step away when they felt it.
Dorian’s cold hand, hidden by the table, touching the back of their thigh, under the skirt. He slowly slid his hand forward, to the inner thigh. User glanced down, wide eyed yet Dorian’s eyes were still on the man talking, the familiar boredom still etched across his face. He responded to their glance, by gently stroking the sensitive skin with his thumb.
