Chapter 0008

—Klein.

“Does it hurt that bad?” I winced, reaching out to touch Simon’s nose, but he slapped my hand away and shot me a glare.

“You bet it does!” he snapped. I nodded, realizing how ridiculous my question was. Of course it hurt. Blood was trickling from his nose, and his left eye was already turning a faint shade of purple. I almost burst into laughter at the sight, but he was already pissed, and pushing him further wasn’t the best idea.

When I got home, the last thing I expected was for Simon to jump out from behind my door like a psychopath. I’d acted on pure impulse, how was that my fault? My family had rushed into my room when I screamed, thinking something terrible had happened. But when they saw it was just Simon, they left without much concern.

I mean, they weren’t surprised. This wasn’t exactly the first time something like this had happened.

“You left your phone at home,” Simon grumbled, finally speaking in a less irritated tone. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Your parents thought you were with me, so I had to lie and say you were at Neon Fever.”

Neon Fever was the club where Simon worked, and I went there sometimes... okay, maybe more than sometimes. I knew some of the guys there and often helped Simon out with his shift when he needed it.

I sighed, standing up and heading toward my wardrobe, eager to get out of Silvio’s clothes.

“Something came up,” I said vaguely, grabbing another outfit. As I turned to glance at Simon, I saw his expression shift. His brows furrowed, then relaxed, and the corners of his lips twitched. I knew that look.

I knew exactly what was coming next.

“If you laugh, I swear I’ll knock out two of your teeth,” I warned, narrowing my eyes. But Simon, being as daring as ever, burst into loud laughter, pointing a finger at me.

“What the hell are you wearing? You look like you time-traveled from the 1800s!” he cackled, practically doubling over.

Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the wardrobe, grabbed a few clothes, and tossed them at his face with more force than necessary. I quickly changed out of Silvio’s oversized clothes and into my own, sighing in relief before flopping onto the bed beside Simon.

I grabbed my phone from the bedside table. 45 missed calls from Simon! Typical.

There was only one missed call from our home landline number, and I was pretty sure it was from my dad. He’d probably realized my phone was still at home and given up after that.

Setting the phone aside, I stared up at the ceiling, letting my thoughts wander.

“So, you finally got the job?” Simon asked, settling down next to me. I hummed in response, nodding.

He turned on his side, propping his head up with one hand, a teasing smile already forming on his lips.

“How’s your boss? What category does he fall into—SB? F*? PF? HB? FTB?” he asked, wiggling his brows. Why was he assuming my boss was a 'he'?

I laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. It was funny how we had this weird code for the guys we met or, in some cases, had been involved with. SB was Sexy Boy, HB was Hot Boy, PF was Perfect Fantasy, F* was Fuck Boy, and FTB stood for "Fun to Be With". FTP was using for the kind of guys who brought out your wild side.

"Come on, tell me," he insisted, lightly tapping my chest.

I smirked, Silvio’s face flashing in my mind, especially the memory of his shirt, unbuttoned just enough to bless my eyes with the sight of his chest. And I wasn’t kidding when I said he looked sexy.

“SB... And he’s seriously muscular. His body is, like, on fire,” I said, sneaking a glance at Simon out of the corner of my eye.

As expected, his cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. I could already tell he was mentally constructing a shirtless image of Silvio.

I laughed, shaking my head at how ridiculous Simon looked. He didn’t just breathe and eat rainbows, he practically shot them out of his eyes. His thing for super buff guys had gone way beyond a preference; at this point, it was a full-blown fetish.

“But he’s an ass, Bestie,” I added, a satisfied smirk tugging at my lips as Simon’s smile faded and his blush vanished as he fell back onto the bed. Simon hated guys who acted like the world revolved around them. I didn’t know enough about Silvio to say for sure he was that type, but I did know he was an ass.

Without warning, Simon sat up straight and turned my face from side to side, inspecting me like a detective examining evidence. Then, he placed both hands on my chest, checking for… something. I knew what he was doing; making sure I was okay. Once satisfied, he relaxed.

“You good now? I heard you died again,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes worried.

I rolled my eyes at his dramatic phrasing but didn’t bother correcting him. I knew he was just concerned... he always was.

“I’m fine, Si. Seriously,” I said, offering him a reassuring smile.

He didn’t look entirely convinced, but after a moment, he nodded and lay back down beside me in silence.

We spent the rest of the night talking about random things, every annoying encounter I’d had with Silvio and how he’d made my day a living hell. We shit-talked and gossiped about him until we were both laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe.

By the time we finally decided to go to sleep, it was 2 a.m., and that only happened after I practically begged Simon to let me. He gave in, reluctantly, of course, but I knew he’d stay up worrying about me anyway.

*******

By 6:49 a.m., I was already in the elevator, yawning as I waited for it to take me to our floor. I hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep last night, and I silently prayed that Silvio wouldn’t test my patience today. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle it.

As the elevator doors slid open, I stepped out, releasing another long yawn. I shut my eyes briefly, took a deep breath, and forced myself to move toward Silvio’s office.

Second day as his secretary. Let’s hope I don’t tell him to go fuck his mama.

I stopped in front of his door, my hand hovering, ready to knock. But I hesitated when I heard voices from inside. I knew Silvio was in there, I’d seen his car in the parking lot, but the conversation sounded like two people.

Was he scolding another employee already? I scoffed, glaring at the door as though he could feel my annoyance through it. I was about to turn and leave when a voice, loud and urgent, made me freeze.

“Your essence is slowly fading. Coming to Earth was never a task you should have taken, my prince!”

The words hit me, and then... crash! The sound of something shattering echoed through the door, making me flinch.

What the fuck…?

That wasn’t Silvio’s voice. His voice was deep, the kind of deep that makes you want to drop to your knees at his command and have him do nasty things to you, but this voice? It was different. And… prince?

In this century, someone was being addressed as "my prince"?

What the hell was going on in there?