“Amaliah,” Sarah Lang smiled from the doorway of Amaliah’’s office. “The boss needs you." “Oh. Ms. Rodriguez just left here a short while ago. Thank you, I’ll be with her shortly.” Amaliah smiled back at Sarah and turned back to her computer. It was almost time to go home. “Not Ms. Rodriguez, silly. The boss-boss, Mr. Masterson,” Mark laughed and looked at Sarah for confirmation with a gleam in his eye. His interest had been piqued. Sarah nodded. “Thanks. Mark, right?” Mark bobbed his head up and down and stood up hurriedly from his seat. He extended his hand to Sarah for a shake. “Mark Robes, ma’am. A pleasure to meet you.” “Likewise, Mark. Please be there in five, Amaliah. He’s in the conference room down this hall.” Sarah said, and turned on her heel and left. “Omg, do you even know who that is?” Mark gushed, moving his chair close to Amaliah’s. Amaliah rolled her eyes. “She’s the boss’s secretary. And I'm not in for any gossip right now. Please, mark.” “Come on, you’ll l
The marketing department's office gossip, almost thirty-year-old Mark Robes, was ruthless in his pursuit of personal details. Amaliah often felt that the CIA had missed out by not signing Mark up for something. He might not have been able to speak Russian, or Iraqi, or even basic English — come to that — but his intelligence-gathering skills were second to none. Amaliah often wondered how he got into Skyline Corp, but she quickly found out from Mark himself that Miranda owed his mother a favour and the only way his mother wanted her to repay was by bringing Mark into Skyline Corp. He couldn’t create a single sales copy without hitting the computer spell check at least four times to see if he’d spelled everything right, but if you wanted to know why the new girl in accounts kept coming in with red eyes every morning, Mark Robes was the only man for the job. Except that Amaliah never wanted to know the gossip. It wasn’t her scene. Being raised by parents who disliked gossip instille
Amaliah let herself into the house. The hall was in darkness. Good. Sheila wasn’t home yet. She’d mentioned that she might go for a drink with Sarah after work. They'd invited her, but she declined. The twins were with her parents, and their absence gave her a chance to go to bed without talking to anyone, because she really didn't feel like talking. And if Sheila came in after a few drinks, she wouldn’t be intuitive enough to notice her downcast eyes. Amaliah left the hall light on and went upstairs to bed. She got as far as taking off her blouse when the wave of utter hopelessness hit her and she had to sit down on the edge of the bed and weep. Great gusts of sobs came from her, her chest heaved with each breath and she cried until her face was red and raw. Would she ever get over the pain of Rafael's death? All she wanted was for the pain of wanting to abate somewhat, so she could cope. Tears flowed down her face as she wept with grief. She’d been kidding herself during her the
"Wait, what? How? When? What did he say?" Sheila was as confused as Amaliah was. "I don't know. He simply said my loan has been paid off." Sheila grabbed Amaliah's phone and called the number back but the call didn't go through. "This is bonkers. Are you sure he's not just playing with you? Maybe he wants you to lose guard so they'll hurt you." "I don't think so. He sounded cheerful, sincere. I think the loan has really been paid off. I'm stunned." "Wow. But . . ." "I know what you're thinking. Who could've paid it off? Why did they pay it off? Do you think it was one of our friends?" "I'm sorry, Amaliah, our friends love you but that's quite a sum." Sheila rubbed her friend's shoulder. "Yeah, I thought so too. I'm torn in between celebrating and being wary. What if that person paid it off because he or she has bad intentions? Like you said, that's quite a sum, no matter how much a person has." "I agree. We need some information, although I don't think Ted Williams will be kee
Three weeks and four days later. Caesar lay on his bed, simply staring at the ceiling, trying to think. Anastasia had changed within a few weeks. She was a lot more considerate, even if she still tried to drag him along with her to her late night parties that exhausted him to no end. She was a lot more polite to his friends and staff, tried her best to be with him as often as possible, had stopped throwing tantrums when she didn't get what she wanted, had stopped trying to gaslight him every chance she got. But Caesar concluded that he couldn't go through with the wedding. He didn't want to. Anastasia might've changed, but he wasn't sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, living a mundane life that only consisted of parties, sex and glamour. He loved kids and wanted one as soon as possible but she had told him that she never wanted kids—at least not from her own body—and if he wanted kids, he could adopt a grown kid and hire several nannies. She hated things like nap
"You're not mad?" She asked tentatively. Alarm bells went off in Caesar's head. He was hurt, but not angry. He had known deep down that even if Anastasia did change her ways, it would take years, not three weeks. Infact, he was actually quite glad. Instead of breaking up with her and having to go through her tantrums and meltdown, she had made it easier for him. He would not be the one to be tainted all over the media either—not that he planned to make their break-up public—incase Anastasia took it to the tabloids. But if he acted like he was not angry, she would sense that he had wanted to end the relationship before. Anastasia had an uncanny ability for sniffing out the truth, even if she was a pathological liar and an expert manipulator. She would then turn everything around and blame him for making her cheat. He could just imagine her saying, "I knew you were trying to break up with me, which is why I wanted to sleep with him to hurt you." Anastasia was known for blaming every
"Listen Stassie," Caesar's voice was weary now. "I need you to leave my house. I'm calling off the wedding immediately. I decided long ago that nothing you do or say will get to me." "Oh yeah? Says the emotionally weak man who would turn to putty the minute my hands are on him. You have a weakness for me, Caesar. I have you wrapped around my little finger and there's nothing you can do about it." As soon as he sat down on the sofa, she went over to him and straddled him, kissing him aggressively, biting his jaw, his lips, his ear. He gently picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously on the other side of him. He then picked up his phone and called her mom. She picked up on the third ring. "Have your driver come pick up your daughter." He said to her mom and hung up. Stassie flew at him. "Are you crazy? Why on earth did you call my mom?" She shrieked. Just then, two security men entered the house and grabbed Anastasia. "What the hell are you doing? Leave me alone! Don't touch
The next day, Amaliah stepped inside an elevator going up to her office, hoping she would not meet any one of the office gossip. As the doors of the elevator slid shut, someone stopped it and stepped in. Amaliah glanced up from her phone and winced. It was Caesar. She moved back and he stepped in. "Hello, Ms. Rivers." He nodded politely in her direction and pressed the elevator button."Mr Masterson." She gave him a tight smile.As they went up, she continued to text Sheila while he admired how ethereal she looked. She was dressed in mom jeans and silk blouse with a pair of low heeled sandals. He cleared his throat."Er… how're you?" He asked, smiling at her."Very well, thank you. I'm sorry about your broken engagement.""Oh… there's nothing to be sorry about. I mean, it's nothing serious. I mean, she wasn't serious…we weren't serious." He realised he was blabbing and promptly shut up. "I mean, a lot of people show sympathy but I'm relieved that the wedding won't be happening.""You