"What happened last night? Don't you remember anything?" Francisco's voice was calm, but his words carried weight.
Hazel held his gaze, her eyes searching for answers.
"Did we... do something improper?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with concern.
Francisco stepped closer. He leaned down, his breath warm against her ear.
"You did a lot, Hazel," he whispered. "Where should I begin?"
Hazel's eyes widened. A chill ran through her as her mind scrambled to recall anything. The fear that she might've crossed a line she didn't remember gripped her. She turned to face him, needing the truth.
As she took a step back, Francisco moved fast. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his chest. Hazel pressed her palms against him, trying to push him away.
Her heart pounded. "What did I do?" she demanded, her voice sharp with rising panic.
Francisco held her gaze as he twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. But Hazel didn't flinch. Her expression was cold, guarded... no longer the girl he once knew.
With a smirk tugging at his lips, he finally said, "Don't overthink it. We didn't do anything."
Hazel's face tensed, her eyes searching his for answers.
"So… we didn't do anything?" she asked, needing confirmation.
Francisco brushed her hair back, his gaze softening.
"No. But you were murmuring something in your sleep. I need to know what it meant."
Hazel's heart skipped a beat. Her breath caught in her throat.
"What?" she whispered, her voice shaky.
Francisco studied her carefully. For the first time, he noticed a flicker of nervousness in her green eyes. His tone turned sharp.
"Rafael."
He let the name hang in the air, watching her reaction.
"Who is he to you?" he asked. "Why were you murmuring that officer's name?"
Hazel lowered her gaze, lips slightly parted, searching for words.
Francisco's grip on her waist tightened. Pain shot through her side, forcing her to look up.
"I—it's nothing, sir. I don't remember," she tried, her voice uncertain.
Francisco cut her off, suspicion hardening his tone.
"You're hiding something. Tell me."
Hazel met his gaze, her voice quiet but clear.
"I don't know where to start… but I do know him."
Francisco's eyes narrowed. His jaw tensed.
"He saved me. That officer... Rafael... he rescued me from human trafficking. That's all."
Francisco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting Hazel's words sink in.
But then Hazel's voice broke the silence, sharp and steady.
"Mr. Francisco, what is this really about? I think you should let me go."
He opened his eyes, studying her carefully.
"You didn't tell Rafael to let me go. So why only me?" she asked, her brows raised, gaze unwavering.
"I've made myself clear about Rafael," she added, her voice firm. "I'm your PA. The way you're interrogating me… it feels like you're my boyfriend."
Her words cut through the tension like a blade.
"Whatever happened last night," she continued, "I hope you'll keep it between us."
She turned, ready to leave—but Francisco moved faster.
He grabbed her hand and spun her back to face him. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Hazel gasped, startled.
"What are you doing?" she demanded.
Francisco's voice dropped, calm but commanding.
"This is my room. No one enters without my permission... and no one leaves without it either."
His dominance pressed heavy in the air, and Hazel felt the warning in his grip.
"Do you know what you're doing?"
Hazel's voice cut through the charged air, firm and direct. Her sudden assertiveness caught Francisco off guard... but instead of backing down, he smiled, amused by her fire.
"What am I doing?" he asked, clearly enjoying the shift in energy.
He leaned in slightly. "As my PA, you should answer my questions... and do whatever I say."
Hazel didn't flinch. She met his gaze, her expression steady and fearless.
"So that gives you the right to touch my body?" she asked, her voice sharp and unwavering.
Francisco's eyes narrowed. Her words hit him harder than he expected, but his hand stayed at her waist. Hazel held her ground.
"Mr. Francisco, I'll hand in my resignation," she said calmly, her decision clear and final.
She pushed him back and stepped away, walking toward the door without hesitation. Francisco stood still, arms folded, watching her with a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
Hazel grabbed the door handle and twisted, but it wouldn't budge. Her jaw clenched as frustration grew.
"I told you," Francisco said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "It won't open."
Hazel turned to him, eyes blazing. "Then open it."
Francisco didn't move. He just stared at her... this woman who had the audacity to defy him without fear. No one had ever spoken to him like this.