Free Chosen by the Billionaire by Emma Rose

 
    Caroline walked through the glass door. The black doormat her red high heels passed over read, "Biotech: The Future of Life," in bold white letters. Her heels clacked against the brown tiles on the way to the elevator. She pressed a button and straightened her short brown hair. She looked into the silver elevator door.
    Her blue eyes were bloodshot, naturally, as she hadn't slept well in weeks. The door slid open to reveal several bleary eyed workers that were just getting off the night shift. They filed passed her and she entered the elevator.
    Three floors later she was walking down a main aisle, her faded red dress, which was slightly tattered and had seen better days, lost in a sea of similarly colored cubicles. She absent mindedly walked down four blocks before she found her own.
    A black computer monitor sat on a white desk. Neatly placed underneath was a black rolling chair. Her austere workspace smelled as sterile as it looked. She sneezed. Cleaning supplies always prompted that response.
    She rubbed her nose, turned on her computer, and took a seat. This was how her day started, every day: turn on the computer, sit down, reach for a tissue in one of her desk drawers, throw tissue into trash can outside of her cubicle. Then yawn, check email, and see the huge amount of work her boss gave her to do. Most of it was work he was supposed to do, but he was too busy playing golf and flirting with interns one-third his age.
    The radio in the next cubicle over told the tragic news of how the value of Biotech's stock had fallen for the third straight quarter. It may have been a surprise to everyone else, but it was no surprise to her. The company was bleeding money.
    Her boss had given her sensitive documents to work on that detailed risky biological ventures the company took part in, which were mostly illegal. In follow up paperwork—that her boss, again, hadn’t wanted to work on—Caroline learned these investments generated no revenue, probably because of the legal implications, and cost the company millions. There was even some evidence that there were people at the top who were taking money from the company and hiding the paper trail. All of these things, and probably others Caroline didn't know about, were making the company suffer.
    It wasn't just the company that was suffering though. The company's employees were taking a hit as well. In the past three years she had been with the company, Caroline's pay had been cut five times. She would immediately go to the police and tell them about the foul dealings the company took part in but she would be fired. For someone who lived paycheck to paycheck, that wasn't an option.
    Her balding boss came strolling down the main aisle, stopping to utter senseless boss like comments to her co-workers.  Caroline heard him coming her way so she stared at her screen and began working on a PowerPoint presentation that same boss had been too lazy to put together.
    Her portly superior stuck his head around the reddish wall of the cubicle. "Caroline, you working hard on that presentation?"
    "Yes, sir, I have it on the screen," she replied, not looking away from the computer.
    He moved close to her, looking over her shoulder. She twitched when she felt his warm, moist breath on her exposed neck.
    "It's looking good, but it needs a little something."
    Caroline felt the sleeve of his suit slide over her arm and his wrinkled hand overlay hers. Her eyes darted at the intrusion as he moved her mouse across the gray mouse pad. She was so shocked she didn't see his hand quickly slide down the neck of her dress and grope her breast.
    She gasped and he withdrew his hand.
    "You see, you didn't add sound effects. All professional presentations must have sound effects."
    He clicked on the menu to add a random sound effect to the presentation. "There, that's perfect. Oh, by the way," her boss pulled out a large stack of envelopes from his jacket pocket. "I want you to deliver these to whom they