Owned by My Boss

MF Contemporary Romance
by Isla Wilde

Free with Kindle Unlimited

Pairing: MF
Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno
Length: ~90,000 words
Tropes: Boss/Employee, Age Gap, Praise Kink, Possessive Hero, Forbidden Romance, Control/Surrender, Alpha CEO, He Falls First

You work for me… and I decide exactly how.

Emma Hayes is broke, brilliant, and desperate. With $87K in student loans and rent due in eleven days, she takes a job under the most demanding CEO in finance — a man who expects complete availability, absolute precision, and total compliance. She can handle the workload. She can handle the pressure. What she can’t handle is the way Alexander Wolfe looks at her when everyone else has gone home.

Alexander Wolfe built his empire on control. He controls the schedule, the standards, the silence in every room he enters. He doesn’t do attachment. He doesn’t do need. But the new analyst who sat in his lobby for fifty-one minutes because she couldn’t afford to leave is breaking every system he’s built — and the way she says his name in the dark is rewriting twenty years of discipline in real time.

What starts as late-night portfolio reviews becomes locked doors. Locked doors become his desk. His desk becomes his penthouse. And the line between “you work for me” and “you belong to me” dissolves one touch at a time — until the power dynamic that brought them together threatens to burn the firm down around them.

When their secret goes public in the worst possible way, Emma and Alexander must decide: protect their careers, or fight for a love that was never supposed to happen — and that neither of them can survive losing.

You’ll love this book if you enjoy:

✅ Billionaire CEO who loses control for only one woman
✅ Boss/employee with real power dynamics and real consequences
✅ “Good girl” praise kink that escalates chapter by chapter
✅ Possessive hero who learns to choose vulnerability over control
✅ Slow burn that DETONATES (🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ — graphic, explicit, emotional)
✅ A heroine who earns everything and a hero who deserves nothing until he does
✅ HEA guaranteed

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⚠️ Content Warning: This novel contains explicit sexual content (graphic MF scenes including D/s dynamics, breath play, and possessive themes), strong language, workplace power imbalance, and depictions of anxiety and financial stress. Intended for readers 18+.

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Chapter One: The Interview

The lobby of Wolfe & Associates smelled like money and judgment.

Not literally—it smelled like leather furniture and the kind of air freshener that probably cost more per ounce than my rent. But the effect was the same. Every surface was designed to remind you that you didn’t belong here unless someone decided you did.

I sat in a chair that was nicer than my bed and tried not to fidget.

My blazer was pinching under my left arm where I’d re-stitched the seam last night. I’d done it at two in the morning with YouTube instructions and a sewing kit I stole from a Holiday Inn three years ago, and the result was functional but not comfortable. Every time I shifted, the thread pulled against my skin like a tiny reminder: you are faking this.

The receptionist—a woman so polished she looked like she’d been manufactured in a lab—glanced at me for the fourth time in twenty minutes. Not with sympathy. With the particular disinterest of someone who’d watched a lot of people sit in this chair and leave without getting past it.

“Mr. Wolfe is still in a meeting,” she said, without me asking. “It shouldn’t be much longer.”

It had already been thirty-five minutes past my scheduled interview time. I smiled like that was fine. Like I wasn’t calculating the bus fare I’d spent to get here, the half-day of wages I’d lost at the temp agency, the energy bar I’d eaten for lunch because I couldn’t afford the café downstairs.

“No problem,” I said. “I’m happy to wait.”

I wasn’t happy. But I was desperate, which looked almost identical if you held your face right.

The other candidate—a guy in a suit that actually fit, with a watch that probably had a name—stood up at the forty-minute mark. He buttoned his jacket with the easy confidence of someone who had three other interviews this week and didn’t need this one.

“I’ll have my assistant reschedule,” he told the receptionist, already walking. He didn’t look at me. People like him never did.

The receptionist watched him go, then looked at me. Something shifted in her expression—not quite respect, but recognition. Like she’d just learned something about me she hadn’t expected.

“Still happy to wait?” she asked.

I uncrossed and recrossed my legs. The pinch under my arm throbbed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She almost smiled. Almost.

Eleven more minutes. I spent them memorizing the company’s quarterly highlights displayed on a screen behind the reception desk, because if I got into that room, I was going to know more about this firm than the man interviewing me expected. That was the only advantage I’d ever had in my life—I worked harder than people thought I would, and I paid attention when they assumed I wasn’t.

“Ms. Hayes?” The receptionist stood. “He’s ready for you. End of the hall, corner office.”

I stood. Smoothed my skirt. Checked that my practical bun was still holding. Picked up my portfolio—which was a leather folder I’d found at Goodwill with someone else’s initials embossed on the corner, but from a distance it looked professional enough.

The hallway was long. Glass-walled offices on both sides, occupied by people who moved with the unhurried efficiency of those who’d never worried about a security deposit. My heels—the good ones, the only ones—clicked against marble floors, and I focused on making each step sound like I had every right to be here.

The corner office door was open.

I saw the desk first. Massive. Dark wood. The kind of desk that existed to put distance between the person behind it and everyone else in the world. Floor-to-ceiling windows behind it framed a skyline that looked like it had been placed there for his personal viewing pleasure.

Then I saw him.

Alexander Wolfe was not what I’d prepared for.

In person, Alexander Wolfe was a problem.

He was tall—taller than the doorframe suggested he should be, broad through the shoulders in a way his charcoal suit couldn’t quite contain. Dark hair, silvering at the temples, cut precisely enough that I knew someone was paid very well to maintain it. A jaw that looked like it had been engineered for clenching. And eyes—gray, or maybe blue, or maybe the color didn’t matter because the effect was the same. He looked at me and I felt seen in a way that made my skin prickle.

He didn’t stand. Didn’t extend a hand. Just watched me walk the fifteen feet from his door to the chair across from his desk, and I had the uncomfortable sensation that those fifteen feet were a test I was currently taking.

I sat without being invited, because waiting to be told what to do felt like the wrong move with a man who looked like he catalogued weakness for a living.

“Ms. Hayes.” His voice was lower than I expected. Controlled. The kind of voice that didn’t need volume to fill a room. “You waited fifty-one minutes.”

“The other candidate left at forty,” I said. “I assumed that was the first part of the interview.”

“It wasn’t,” he said. “I was in a meeting.”

“Okay.” I held his gaze. “Then I waited because I wanted the job.”

“I’ll be direct,” he said. “This position requires complete availability. Not nine to five. Not standard hours. When I need analysis, I need it immediately. The work is demanding. I am demanding. Most people find that incompatible with what they think they signed up for.”

“I’m not most people.”

“Everyone says that, Ms. Hayes.”

“And most of them are lying.” I kept my voice steady even though my heart was trying to exit through my ribcage. “I’m not. I need this job to work, and I’m willing to do what’s required to make sure it does.”

“The salary is one hundred and forty thousand, plus quarterly performance bonuses,” he said. “Benefits effective immediately. You start Monday.”

“That’s—” I caught myself. “That’s acceptable.”

He stood. Rounded the desk. And suddenly the scale of him became real. He stopped in front of me. Close. Closer than professional convention required.

“Welcome to Wolfe and Associates, Emma.”

First name. Not Ms. Hayes. The shift was subtle and deliberate and it landed in the center of my chest like a stone dropped in still water.

He extended his hand. I took it. His grip was firm. His palm was warm. What I didn’t expect was the pause. His fingers closed around mine and then stayed. One second. Two. Not a shake anymore—a hold. His thumb pressed against the back of my hand, brief and unmistakable, and a line of heat traveled up my wrist and into my arm like a current finding ground.

His eyes held mine the entire time. Gray. Definitely gray. The color of storm systems and slate and things that could crush you if you stood too close.

Then he released me. Stepped back. Professional mask intact like it had never slipped.

“Seven AM Monday. Don’t be late.”

I found my car—a twelve-year-old Honda Civic with a check engine light that had been on so long I’d named it—and sat in the driver’s seat and put my hands on the steering wheel and breathed.

One hundred and forty thousand dollars. Complete availability. When I need you.

I pressed my palm flat against the back of my right hand, against the place where his thumb had pressed. The skin was warm, or I was imagining it was warm, or it didn’t matter because the sensation was already burned into my nerve endings either way.

Monday. Seven AM. I was already counting the hours.

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The Interview (Revisited) — A scene TOO HOT for Amazon

One year later, Emma interviews a new analyst for her division. Alexander watches from his office. When the last candidate leaves, he locks her door, sits in the interview chair, and tells her he’d like to apply for a position. The resulting “interview” involves her desk, his tie, and a complete reversal of every power dynamic from Chapter One.

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