Veil System: Running a Model, High-End Escort and Marriage Agency
Chapter 77: Alone With Sasha—One of a kind Sasha

Chapter 77: Alone With Sasha—One of a kind Sasha

At first, yeah—everyone had been shocked.

Justin Black taking over Black Veil? They could deal with that, even if some still thought he was just a PR nightmare with a trust fund and an expensive suit.

But this?

Chloe Reynolds as CEO?

That was a different story.

And then that damn employee survey dropped online—aired on media, splashed all over social feeds. Opinions about the new leadership? Expectations? Doubts?

Yeah, they’d gotten calls—higher-ups, execs, even the rank-and-file employees. Some had been skeptical, others bracing for the worst.

But then came the real kicker—

Chloe had called them personally.

Like, not some generic corporate email. Not a PR statement. Not a speech. She had literally picked up the damn phone and called people. And just like that, doubts started melting faster than ice cubes in the Vegas heat.

Because if there was one person they trusted, it was Chloe.

And now?

Now they were here, watching it actually happen.

Justin held out his hand. No hesitation. No theatrics. Just solid, effortless confidence. Chloe looked at it, then at him—still processing, still slightly murderous—but she took it.

As he pulled her up onto the platform, the audience leaned forward, waiting. She turned to face them, composed as hell, but when she glanced at Justin again, her smile turned just a little dangerous.

Her eyes practically screamed:

"When the fuck did you plan this?"

Justin?

Smug as hell.

He just gave her a slow, easy gesture, as if handing her the whole damn empire.

"Take ’em." And just like that—the room belonged to her.

*****

Justin sat at the long-ass couch, alone. The day had been... meh. Uneventful as hell after making Chloe the CEO. She was swamped, Martinez was buried in work, and even Selena had shit to do. Meanwhile, he was left twiddling his thumbs, scrolling through nonsense, and wondering why the hell being in charge suddenly felt like being on house arrest.

A soft clink.

He glanced up as Sasha placed a drink beside him—dark, rich whiskey in a crystal glass. She stood there for a moment, her perfectly manicured fingers still gripping the rim before she let go.

And yeah, okay—she looked good. Like, dangerously good. Tight black dress hugging every damn curve, heels that made her legs look like they went on forever, and that subtle perfume—the kind that made a man’s mind wander into unholy territory.

She glided in with the kind of confidence that made it clear she knew exactly how good she looked. The dress? Short. The curves? Popping. The way she moved? Dangerous.

Justin exhaled, gripping his glass a little tighter. Behave.

Justin’s jaw clenched. He was too sober for this. Too sex-deprived.

Nope. Hell no. Not going there. He grabbed his drink and downed half of it in one go. Sasha smirked like she could read his thoughts. Which—knowing her? She probably could.

"Rough day?" she asked, stepping behind him, her hands finding his shoulders.

He nearly groaned. Fuck. She knew what she was doing. The way her fingers worked into the tension like she had a PhD in making men reconsider life choices—yeah, she was a problem.

Justin forced a chuckle. "If by ’rough’ you mean boring as hell, then yeah."

Sasha hummed knowingly. "Poor you. Must be so hard having an empire at your feet and all."

He smirked. "The sympathy is overwhelming."

Her hands continued their slow, calculated rhythm. "I saw the news," she said. "You made Chloe CEO. That’s a big deal. How’s it feel giving away that much power?"

Justin exhaled, staring at the ice swirling in his glass. "I didn’t give away shit. She earned it. And besides, what’s power if you’re drowning in it alone?"

Sasha’s fingers slowed slightly. "Deep. Didn’t know you had a philosophical side, boss."

He scoffed. "Yeah, well, don’t get used to it."

Sasha laughed softly, kneading a little deeper. "Smooth. Very you."

He sighed, letting the warmth from her touch seep in. "Yeah, well, now everyone’s too busy to entertain me, and I’m just here, contemplating life and bad decisions."

"Like what?" Her voice was teasing, but her hands didn’t stop.

’Like pulling you onto my lap and—NOPE. No. Abort mission.’

A silence stretched between them, her hands still resting on his shoulders, his mind very aware of how good she smelled—fuck.

"Like drinking until I forget I have responsibilities," he said instead, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

Sasha hummed, leaning down slightly, her breath warm against his ear. "Careful, boss. If you keep acting like this, someone might have to take care of you."

...This woman was playing with fire.

Justin exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Sasha, you’re one sentence away from an HR violation."

She snorted. "Please. Who the hell is HR? Martinez? She’d just tell me to make sure you don’t die."

"...Fair point."

Sasha finally pulled back, patting his shoulder. "Well, if you do need entertainment, I could—"

"—Sasha," he warned, giving her a look.

She smirked, holding up her hands. "Fine, fine. I’ll behave."

With a forced stretch, Justin leaned forward, breaking her hold. "Anyway, how’s life, Sasha? Or do you just lurk around waiting for my life updates?"

She chuckled, stepping back just slightly. "Maybe. Gotta keep an eye on my favorite boss."

Justin shot her a dry look. "I’m your only boss."

She winked. "Exactly."

He shook his head, lifting the drink to his lips. This woman was dangerous.

Then, with a wink, she grabbed his empty glass. "Want another?"

Justin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Make it strong. I need to survive this night with my sanity intact." She walked away, hips swaying just enough to let him know she was still playing with him.

And Justin?

Yeah, he was definitely drinking himself to sleep tonight.

Justin sat there, one hand lazily swirling the ice in his glass while the other propped up his head. The mansion was too damn quiet tonight. Sasha walked in just then, balancing a fresh drink in her hand, moving like she owned the place.

His eyes dragged over her before he caught himself and quickly looked away. Nope. No. He was not going there. Not tonight.

She set the drink down in front of him, smirking. "You keep looking at me like that, Justin, and I might start charging you."

Justin scoffed, grabbing the glass. "Oh please, like my broke ass can afford you."

She grinned, slipping behind him, and before he could even react, her hands were on his shoulders again, working those damn knots like she was trained by the gods themselves.

"You look tense even after a few seconds," she murmured.

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