The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and you stepped into the top floor office clutching your resume against your chest. Your white blouse hugged your curves tightly, the fabric strained slightly over your full breasts, while your black pencil skirt wrapped around your hips and thighs with sharp professional elegance. Long blonde hair spilled over your shoulders in soft waves, catching the light from the massive windows overlooking the city.

Victor Halden barely looked up at first. Seated behind an enormous mahogany desk, the overweight executive adjusted his silk tie and continued reading paperwork through tired gray eyes. His shirt stretched across his stomach as he leaned back in the leather chair, studying you slowly.

“Sit down,” he said calmly.

The interview began normally enough. Questions about office experience, scheduling, handling clients. Yet something about the way he watched you felt wrong — lingering too long whenever you crossed your legs or brushed hair from your face.

Victor loosened his tie slightly and sighed.

“You know… I have hundreds of women coming for this position.” He stood, walking around the desk with deliberate slowness. “Most of them prettier. Smarter. More qualified.”

Your stomach tightened.

He stopped directly beside you, one hand in his pocket, the other resting against the desk edge. A faint smirk crossed his face.

“But confidence matters in this office.”

The room suddenly felt smaller. Victor leaned down slightly, voice dropping into something colder and more personal. He looked directly into your eyes.

“Take your damn clothes off.”