One Night Mistake: The CEO's Trap

On the other side, Eleanor, who was already in an Uber heading back to her apartment, was not nearly so cheerful. She stared gloomily out the window, recalling that the previous night had seemed like a vague dream.

As soon as Eleanor closed her front door, she leaned back against the wood and let out a long breath, her body trembling slightly.

She kicked off her high heels, slipped out of her cocktail dress, and stepped into the cramped bathroom, turning the shower handle to hot. Standing under the spray, she scrubbed her skin vigorously, trying to wash away the day's exhaustion.

However, as steam fogged up the mirror, she wiped it away and caught a glimpse of her reflection. Faint red marks dotted her collarbone and neck.

A wave of intense, burning embarrassment rushed to her cheeks. Recalling the heat of his breath against her skin and the feel of his commanding hands made her toes curl even now. The moment itself had been exquisite, but the aftermath left her feeling overwhelmed.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind, and her eyes widened. *Wait... did we use a condom?*

She racked her brain, replaying their frenzied encounter by the door and the moments that followed on the bed. *No.* There hadn't been a single pause. Panic surged within her.

She hurriedly turned off the water, wrapped herself in a towel, and walked into the bedroom. *That pill... I need to take the morning-after pill right now.*

Just then, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. The screen lit up: a message from JAYE-BFF.

JAYE-BFF: Ellie, where are you? I'm worried! Call me back!

Eleanor stared at the screen, a deep sense of awkwardness rising in her chest. There was no way she could tell Jaye that she’d slept with her brother. It was just too mortifying.

She sat on the edge of the bed and quickly typed a reply: "Oh, I’m so sorry! I woke up with a splitting headache, so I left in a rush—didn't want to wake anyone up. I’m resting in bed now. Let’s chat later? Bye."

Jay immediately sent back a string of concerned emojis, urging her to get some rest.

Eleanor tossed her phone aside, walked over to the full-length mirror, and touched the red marks on her neck. She had to stay home today. She couldn't let anyone see those marks—especially her mother, that uninvited guest who always loved to drop by without warning.

Just as she was pulling a high-necked hoodie over her damp hair, her phone chimed again. It was a text from Naomi Price, the stern Marketing Director at the Estes Group.

"Eleanor, the VP just pushed the Q3 forecast meeting to tomorrow morning. I need the finalized copies of those reports on my desk by 2:00 PM today. No exceptions. See you at the office."

Eleanor stared at the screen, her heart sinking. As a junior analyst, she had no choice but to comply. She sighed and changed into a pair of professional trousers and a silk blouse that covered her neck.

Her plan was to stop at the pharmacy for medication, quickly print the reports at the office, and then head straight home—pretending last night had never happened.