Undercover Mistress: Trapped In My Brother-in-law's Bed

“This way, ma’am. Mr. Orton is waiting for you inside.”

Amelia Mourer's heart lurched at the mention of Orton's name. It had been over a year since she'd last seen him. Her sweaty fingers tightened around the strap of her mini purse as she quietly followed Orton's subordinate to his private chamber.

Amelia scanned her membership card, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest as the polished hardwood door slid open, revealing the muscular back of a tall man.

Her heels clicked against the mahogany floor, each step charged with anticipation and nervousness.

“Welcome back to Ardenton City from Sterling City after a year. You did exceptionally well, just as you have on every one of your previous espionage missions,” Orton said, turning away from the floor-to-ceiling window as he casually flipped through a file without casting a glance at Amelia.

Seeing his nonchalant attitude, a sharp familiar ache pierced Amelia's heart but she quickly shook it off as she walked toward him. Closing the distance between them, she asked in a velvety voice. “How have you been all this time? You look even more dashing and irresistible than the last time I saw you a year ago.”

Ignoring both her question and compliment, Orton bent slightly, pulled a brown envelope from the drawer of his mammoth mahogany executive desk.

Placing it before Amelia, he continued, “I asked you to return to your hometown because…”

Before he could finish, Amelia rushed into his arms. She wrapped her slender arms around his broad back and drew in a long breath, relishing the familiar Cedarwood and Oud fragrance that surrounded him.

Sniffing back a tear, Amelia bared her soul. “I've missed you, Orton. I've missed you so much that I thought I would lose my mind if I didn't see you again soon.”

Nonchalantly, Orton unwrapped Amelia's arms from his body.

“I would appreciate it if we kept things strictly detached and professional between us, as we always have, Ms. Amelia.” Orton turned away, his face twisted in displeasure.

“How else do you want me to prove to you that I love you? I've waited for years. Years, Orton! And now you're addressing me as ‘Ms. Amelia’?” Amelia asked, her voice cracking as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“You aren't the kind of woman I want, Amelia,” Orton said without batting an eyelid.

Amelia's heart clenched painfully in her chest but she pressed on. “Then what kind of woman do you want, Orton Vance?” Amelia held Orton's gaze, her breath hitching as she waited for his reply.

“A clean woman. A woman who respects and values her body. A woman of virtue, Amelia,” Orton replied, holding Amelia's gaze.

“Correct me if I'm wrong. Are you saying I'm an unclean woman who doesn't value and respect her body?” Amelia asked, closing the distance between them.

“Yes! You aren't clean, Amelia. You and I both know you often seduce and sleep with your upper-echelon targets to infiltrate their inner sanctum,” Orton said, his lips curling into a knowing smirk.

Amelia stared at Orton in disbelief. “What are you talking about? You're my handler! The investor and director of my espionage missions! I have to do what I have to do to complete my mission! So what are you bluffing about?” Amelia snapped, pacing about as she clawed at her well-layered hair.

“That is it! I know your shit too well to make you my woman. You aren't worthy of my love, Amelia,” Orton said, his tone rising slightly. He hissed as he eased himself into the plush leather chair behind the desk.

“Then why didn't you tell me all this while? Why didn't you tell me there was no place for me in your heart, rather than allow me to waste my time?” Amelia bellowed, her eyes tearing up again.

Orton turned to Amelia as a dry chuckle escaped his throat.

“I've always shown it over the years—with my actions, words, attitude, body language. In fact, everything. Yet you choose to believe I might magically change one day,” Orton replied, idly twirling a platinum Montblanc Meisterstuck between his fingers.

Amelia's lips parted, but only the sound of her erratic heartbeat filled her ears. His words struck the right nerves. Her fingers tightened around her mini purse, hiding their faint tremble.

Finally finding her voice, Amelia asked. “Then what do I do with all these feelings? What do I do with all these pent-up affections? I'm not thinking straight! It's always about you 24/7…” Her voice cracked but she continued.

With her knees crashing to the floor, Amelia poured out her heart.

“Please… stop pushing me away. It hurts so much. It's suffocating…” Amelia’s shoulders shook with violent sobs as she coughed, but the tears kept coming.

“I’ve loved you since the very day our paths crossed years ago, when I came on that summer trip with Hailey—my elder sister,” Amelia confessed.

A glint flashed in Orton's eyes the moment Hailey's name was mentioned. He shifted in his chair as desire stirred deep within him.

“Please… let's give us a chance, Orton. Just once please. If it doesn't work out, I won't pester you anymore.” Amelia crawled toward him and clasped his legs. A fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Boss, she's here.”

A masculine voice echoed from the hallway, disrupting Amelia's confession.

Not wanting to hear another word of Amelia's confession, Orton hurriedly replied. “Come in.”

A second later, the door swung inward, revealing a stunning woman in Capri pants and a tube top. She catwalked into the room chewing gum loudly. Her oiled cleavage shone brightly under the chandelier.

“Boss, this is Beverly—the lady you ordered for tonight,” Orton's subordinate said, his head lowered in respect.

Amelia rubbed her ears, desperate to believe she had misheard. But Orton's next words crushed her denial.

“Come closer, Beverly,” Orton said, curling a finger at her.

Beverly catwalked to Orton, her hips swaying vigorously and her breasts bouncing with each step. Standing before Orton, Beverly threw Amelia a mocking and condescending glance from beneath her thick artificial lashes before returning her attention to Orton.

Without even realizing it, Amelia shrank aside, making room for Beverly.

Orton stood up and drew Beverly by the waist. Her ass slammed into his groin, eliciting a soft moan from her heavily, red-painted lips.

Orton went ahead to spank her prominent ass cheek. He grabbed her ass with his huge palm and kept on wiggling it.

Amelia's shoulders slumped. A cold sensation washed over her as she remained on her knees. She couldn't bring herself to lift her head as Orton rained intimate praises on Beverly while she knelt before him, frozen in humiliation.

“Take this bundle. Go spread your legs on the yacht for me. I'll be with you shortly.” Orton spanked Beverly's ass once more with the bundle of cash.

“Someone certainly will cry herself to sleep tonight.” Beverly laughed as she sauntered out of the room, her hips swaying with practiced ease.

Amelia bit down on her lower lip so hard she tasted iron in her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to stand. Instead, she broke into another round of tears.

Ignoring Amelia's tears, Orton continued. “As I was saying before, you were flown back to Ardenton city to infiltrate a billionaire's penthouse and retrieve two items."

Orton shoved a dossier into Amelia's clammy palm.

“You're to bring me an unassailable criminal dossier chronicling my past felonies, and a multi-billion-dollar political slush fund, largely in bearer bonds and a cache of blood diamonds, hidden in a secret vault accessible only with its safe code,” Orton said unhurriedly.

Wordlessly, Amelia opened the dossier of her next target, but her eyes widened the instant they landed on the high-resolution photograph inside. Color drained from her face as recognition struck her like a bolt of lightning.