The night was calm, the pool reflecting the dim glow of the lights, casting ripples of gold and silver across the water’s surface. The air was thick with the scent of chlorine and expensive cigars, the distant chatter of other guests blending into the background. It was supposed to be a simple evening—a casual gathering with colleagues, a chance to unwind.

Then, without warning, my boss leaned in slightly, his voice low but firm. “One night with me, and the promotion is yours.”

For a moment, I thought I had imagined it. My fingers tensed around the stem of my wine glass as my brain scrambled to make sense of what he had just said. Had he really just offered to trade my hard work, my dedication, for a single night with him?

I turned my head slowly to meet his gaze. His expression was calm, almost indifferent, as if he had just proposed a perfectly normal business arrangement. He knew I was married—he had met my husband at company events, exchanged polite nods with him. Yet, that didn’t stop him.

My stomach twisted, a mix of nausea and fury rising within me. My entire career, years of proving myself, suddenly reduced to this. Did he think I was desperate? That I had worked this hard only to have my success defined by a decision like this?

The air between us felt suffocating. My heart pounded, but I forced my expression to remain neutral. I refused to give him the reaction he was expecting.

Carefully, I placed my glass down on the table, straightened my posture, and looked him in the eye. “I think you’ve underestimated me.”

Then, without another word, I stood up and walked away, leaving behind the pool, the murmurs of distant conversations, and the man who believed he could buy me.