Chapter 2: Bunch of Kindergartens

Elliot'S POV

I walked into my office bearing my briefcase in one hand and making vast strides. All my employees were moving forward to greet me and quickly go back to their jobs, with the corners of their eyes looking up at me. The look of respect was mixed with fear; I was used to it, so their attention did not bother me.

Those men tried to suck up to me for their gains, yet I could tell they hated me and were jealous of my quick success and the fact that so many women at the office had fallen for me. But these were all in silence and with gestures. In reality, no one would dare show even a bit of defiance to back this up. I bossed the place with a strong hand; there was no room for slackness.

But something was different about today. Instead of my secretary, it was the director of operations in IT who ran up to me first when I arrived at the company. He collected my suitcase and then said to me almost immediately as I entered the company.

"Sir, I'm afraid we almost had trouble, sir; someone just tried hacking into our database. But it's totally taken care of."

I stared at him, as we both headed to the IT department.

"Taken care of? How far did the hacker go?"

He kept silent, arms kept behind him, head bowed.

"How far did they go, Tom?" I said, "How far did they fucking go?"I couldn't help but scream.

"99, sir, 99 percent." He quickly said, still cowering.

I also noticed that everyone else was listening to the conversation; all of them were also cowering before their computers, concentrating too closely on their various projects, but their ears were wide open.

"99 percent?" I repeated with a scoff.

"Who do I have working for me in IT? Bunch of kindergartens! Now listen up, everyone. I need the first five offices in IT represented in my office in the next 30 minutes. And God help the staff who doesn't give a comprehensive explanation of what just occurred, will be gone from this company."

I stormed away angrily, walking toward my office, adjusting my tie., I saw my secretary waiting for me at the entrance.

"Sir, Ms. Amanda has been waiting for you for a while; I think she has something important to discuss with you."

“Amanda? Why is she outside? Send her in.” I replied, walking into my office and sitting on my chair to begin work. I checked the document I was working on the previous day before getting up and walking to the glass windows of the highest building in the city.

I stared out the window of my office, sipping my coffee slowly. I had just completed the last of my work and was free.

"Elliot."

I turned to see the oval-faced Amada smiling at me. She wore a long suit that reached her calves. Her hair was brown and wavy. Amanda was our family lawyer's daughter, and we have been friends for a long time. There was a dutifulness to the way she carried herself; maybe that was what drew me to her. I could tell she liked me too; it wasn't hard to tell, but in her smile and her availability, I could still see that there was a yearning for something more than just friendship, and I wasn't sure if I could give that.

Maybe one day, one day.

"How is the bid coming along?" She asked, sitting down and placing the file she was clutching on the desk.

"Going great. I got the cover sheets typed up."

"If I let some of these things slide, we're done." She laughed an indulgent laugh and said,

"I know."

"Make time to rest." She reached for my hand, fumbled with it, and immediately let go like one who realized she had done something stupid. I stare at her, not knowing what to make of the situation.

At that instant, I received a call that the contractor secretary wanted a meeting held in Baton's nightclub.

"Speak of the devil," I said, putting on my jacket."

"What?" Amanda asked with wide eyes.

"They want a meeting at Baton's nightclub."

"A nightclub? Why?" she asked, raising a brow, and I smiled. Was she worried about me?

"I don't know," I said too excitedly. "I just need to get more information about the deal."

"See ya," I said, storming out with hasty strides.

****

At the club, after the meeting. I had started to feel drunk even when I had taken nothing more than three sips from the drinks served. My vision had gone blurry, and the loud music became even louder. I tried looking for a more quiet place for solace, and my leg led me to a small room with lights dimmer than the other parts of the club. Inside it was a lady in her nightgown. I don't know if it was as a result of the drink, but I had become quite horny upon seeing the lady and had staggered towards her. I couldn't even see her clearly.

I had touched her and kissed her, and she had returned my kisses just as passionately. I picked her up, took her to the bed, and we had one of the best sex ever in my life. I was already inside her when I realized she was a virgin.

I woke up the next morning still feeling dizzy but much more clear-headed. The woman from yesterday was still lying beside me, sleeping with her hair covering her face. Patches of blood from her broken hymen stained the bed. I felt so ashamed. I knew it wasn't ra**pe, but it felt like I had ra**ped her and taken advantage of her. Could this still be said to be consensual? I wasn't sure of a lot of things; however, the only thing I was sure of was that I had been drugged yesterday. Something must have been added to my drink yesterday. And to the bottom of everything, I will try getting up and making my head still ring like a doorbell. I dropped a bundle of dollar notes on the bed in an attempt to pacify my conscience before I got up to leave hurriedly.

I needed to get to the contract bidding as soon as possible.

After the meeting, I got two calls. The first was that I had gotten the contract, which made me happy but not as much as I would have initially been without yesterday's occurrence. The second was from my investigator, who said that the person who had booked the hotel room I slept in yesterday was a lady by the name of Olivia Mack. The next set of instructions I gave to my investigator was to trace out her location and also find out the identity of the people responsible for the drugging of my drink that very day.