I Slept with My Boss and Ran Away

A chill flashed in Terrence Sterling's eyes as he gave Rick a stern look. "You talk too much." Rick immediately clamped his mouth shut, his face awash with embarrassment. He was just worried about Terrence Sterling being at a disadvantage again.

However, having been by Terrence Sterling's side for many years, this was the first time Rick had seen him suffer such a significant setback. They had to recover their losses. With Alistair Golding dead, how could Marry survive? Half an hour later, Marry was stuffed into a suitcase by Terrence Sterling's men and dragged into the room before him. As the suitcase opened, Marry, bound hand and foot, rolled out and came to a stop by Terrence Sterling's feet, her mouth sealed with duct tape.

Seeing Terrence Sterling, a deep fear sliced through Marry's eyes, and she instinctively shrank back. "Mmmph," she muffled through the tape, struggling against her bindings and crawling toward the door, wriggling like a worm. She had barely moved a meter when one of Terrence Sterling's men stepped forward and stomped on her knee. A crisp snap echoed as her bones shattered. Marry's pain was palpable; her neck veins bulged, her eyes nearly popping out, her face reddened as she was unable to scream.

Terrence Sterling rose from his leather sofa, towering over the fallen Marry with a murderous look. "You could have suffered less, had you not been so clever. Now, tell me, how should I deal with you?"

Tears, born of sheer physical pain, streaked down Marry's cheeks. She was terrified of Terrence Sterling, knowing well the retaliation that awaited her. She had planned to flee today, only to be captured at the airport.

At a signal from Terrence Sterling, someone ripped the tape from Marry's mouth. The sudden removal drew a sharp scream from her. "Ah!" Ignoring her pain, Marry quickly knelt and began pleading. "Mr. Sterling, it was all Alistair Golding's doing. I was forced. Please, Mr. Sterling, spare me. I'll do anything."

Her voice broke with fear as she sobbed and rasped. Terrence Sterling replied indifferently, "Alistair Golding is dead." Hearing this, Marry's expression froze, disbelief etched across her face. "Dead? When?" "Half an hour ago." Terrence Sterling observed the disheveled Marry with no desire to dirty his hands. "He was your lover, setting traps for me. Considering how confident you were in your allure, I think sending you to Willowtree is quite appropriate."

The mention of Willowtree terrified Marry further, draining the color from her face. What place was that? Even if she survived, she wouldn't escape unscathed. There, a woman held more sinister value. "No, please," Marry begged desperately, her forehead bleeding from the force of her kowtowing. Terrified, she would rather die outright than be sent to Willowtree.

Disdaining the thought of harming a woman and reducing her to a plaything for men, Terrence Sterling was naturally inclined to give Marry a quick resolution. He waved his hand dismissively. "Take her away."

Marry thought she was being sent to Willowtree, despair filling her eyes. However, the next day, Marry appeared at the local police station. The case turned on its head; Marry confessed to everything, and the newspapers were filled with her admissions of guilt. The photos showed she truly regretted her actions. By being brought to the police station, she at least saved her life.