It’s another boring day in the main printing room. I’ve worked here for almost three months now. To say I am thrilled with what I’m currently doing would be a big lie. I’ve always dreamt a writer. Well, not any ordinary writer per se but one that would touch the hearts of many people. I’m working in the number one publishing company in the whole country but yet it feels like I’m not getting anywhere with my dream. I don’t know if I’m even making sense. And to top it all, Mr France has been making my life a living hell. I’m the only employee who works overtime in the company. I spend the majority of my time in the printing room. I think it happened after the club incident. Arwen called me to her office and told me I’d been moved to the printing room because they had a shortage of workers there. I didn’t mind it back then but after three months I’m beginning to hate it here. I don’t get assigned articles anymore. I spend the whole day in a cramped room with the clicking sound of the pri
I was extremely scared of heights. My hands shook beside me as I sat down in my designated seat. We were taking a first-class flight to Singapore. I had never sat in an aeroplane before and my nerves overtook me. Mr Anderson was next to me. He was in a blue shirt and it was the first time I had seen him without a coat. It looked perfect on him how the sleeves were tight enough to show his muscled arms. I lightly slapped my cheeks banishing the dirty thoughts that were filling my head. He turned to look at me astonished and I quickly placed my hands down. This was going to be a very long flight. The flight attendant announced that we were about to take off and I closed my eyes and squeezed the arm of the seat as hard as I could. The aeroplane ran across the runway and finally took off. I had a strong to vomit what I had eaten in the morning. I was about to scream for my dear life when warm hands suddenly covered mine. My eyes widened in shock. Not because of the hand covering mine but
I was the first to wake up the following day. The sun was already up. I checked my phone for the time and it was thirty minutes past six. Thirty minutes passed six? The meeting was at seven! I tried to get up from the bed but my foot got tangled with the sheets making me fall on the floor with a 'thud'. I groaned in pain and cursed before raising myself from the floor. Damon woke up from the noise and immediately checked the watch on his wrist. Did he sleep with it? "It's thirty minutes passed six," he shouted. like I didn't already know that. "We're late. Damn it! I forgot to set the alarm." he continued to say. I picked up the dress I had placed on my suitcase to wear today and ran to the bathroom. Bathing would waste the little time we had so I just changed into the dress. It was a plain white shirt and a black skirt that almost reached my knee. when I exited the bathroom, Damon had already changed into his clothes. he was wearing a suit as usual. his hair had been roughly com
I didn't want to be here but there was no way I could get out of this one. Damon had insisted on buying me new clothes. I'd refused but he told me that he wouldn't take no for an answer. The man was so stubborn and proud! It annoyed the hell out of me. I didn't want to feel indebted to him but he couldn't take No for an answer.Mr Jones had driven us to a shop named 'Closet'. The place looked really classy and expensive and I wished I'd changed from the casual clothes I was wearing.The shop attendants had given me a disapproving look when I first entered which immediately changed to a pleased look when their eyes landed on Damon who was behind me. All the attention he was getting made me annoyed. Haven't they seen a handsome man before?I stood in the dressing room contemplating whether to go out in the dress I had tried on or not. It was a dark blue off-shoulder dress that reached my mid-thigh. It fitted my body perfectly. My body was lean but my breasts were busty and my hips were
Damon pushed me to the wall, his hands trapping me. He stepped closer, the smirk never leaving his face as his eyes roamed my body. they paused at my breasts which were in full display due to the see true shirt I was wearing and moved up to settle on my lips. My tongue unconsciously moistured my lips. I yearned for his lips to touch mine so my mouth said what my heart wanted. "Kiss me, Damon. I want to taste you, to feel your tongue intertwine mine." His smirk disappeared at my words and he placed his hands on my waist before pushing me towards him so that our bodies were touching. Pleasure coursed through my body at his proximity. He hadn't even touched me and I was already wet. I truly was a pervert. He brought his face closer, his nose touching mine. His lips finally grazed my lips and butterflies erupted in my belly. This was it. The kiss I'd been waiting so long for. I closed my eyes in anticipation and just as his mouth pried my lips open, I WOKE UP TO FIND MY PANTIES SOAKED
I couldn't stop myself from thinking about it. Was he going to call her tonight? It was our last day here and he probably would. Saying I enjoyed the tour and the view of the city as we headed back to the hotel would be a lie. my mind was busy thinking of all the possible ways to stop Damon from calling the waitress.Damon stopped talking to me or pointing to places he wanted me to see when he noticed I wasn't listening to him. the car ride had become silent and awkward and I didn't care. I wanted it to be that way. how did this even happen to me? it all started with admiration and now I was totally crushing on him. It pissed me off because I told myself that relationships would be the last thing on my mind once I found a job but look at me now."Are you mad at me, Jane?" I instantly regretted telling him to call me by his name and Yes, I was mad at him but he didn't need to know that or why."No", was my short response and I continued to look out the window. he didn't talk to me aga
Damon stared at me surprised. His look was intense and it made me slightly uncomfortable but I masked it by smirking at him. I looked away and asked the bartender to fill the glass again. After emptying four more glasses of martini, I left the bar and entered the crowd on the dance floor. Damon didn't stop me but I knew he was watching my every movement. I was already tipsy and the song playing just called me to dance. I went to the middle and started to sway my hips. My hands went to my hair before trailing down my body. I turned and my gaze landed on Damon who was staring at me intensely. Not breaking eye contact, I swayed my hips as sexily as I could. I didn't know why I was acting like a slut but what I did know was that I wanted him to want as much as I wanted him. I pulled the already short dress up exposing my thighs. I remembered Matilda telling me that ninety per cent of men found women with good thighs attractive. i didn't know whether she was wrong or not but I did it anyw
"I'm sorry for puking on your shirt," I said for the tenth time in my half-intoxicated state. "It's alright.", Damon walked me to the bathroom. He had helped me come to the room since I was too drunk to walk on my own. "I'll leave you alone so you can change your clothes.", my hands grabbed his stopping him as he turned to leave. "Wait! I-I don't think I can change my clothes on my own.", his mouth dropped open at what I had just said and I suddenly realized how wrong it had come out of my mouth. If someone told me three months ago that I would be saying this to my boss then I would have told that person that he was out of his mind. "B-but I can't...", he stammered, flustered. "It's not like I'm asking you to undress me. You can just open the zip for me." "Yeah, you're right." I was standing in front of the sink. I looked in the mirror and winced at my reflection in it. My hair was a mess and my makeup had been ruined. I really looked like a zombie. Damon's warm hands brushed ove
Mr France returned to work the following day looking like he had just walked off a runway. Not only his presence surprised me but his clothes as well. It wasn't his usual dark blue suit but a flower-patterned shirt and tight jeans that showed his well-defined thighs. I had made it to the elevator when he entered the building, a pair of shades hiding his eyes which would still be puffy from all the crying he did yesterday. I entered the elevator with me and I had expected a 'good morning' thinking we'd gotten a little bit closer because of the events that happened the day before but none came my way. I cursed myself internally for thinking he would do such a thing. Even though he had been weak yesterday, he was still the self-centred and arrogant Mr France. I pressed the button to the last floor and anxiously waited for it to open because of the awkward atmosphere in the small space. Fortunately, a few seconds later I heard a 'ding' sound as the doors opened and I quickly rushed out.
Life was a rollercoaster. Most often the unpredictable happens in our lives and we find ourselves thrown into a series of events that manifest significantly in our lives. An example of such an unpredictable event is the sight of Mr France sitting on my couch, watching television. I'd expected him to run out of my house the moment his eyes opened but not only did he eat the food I had prepared but he'd thanked me for it. Something I thought I would never hear him say. Maybe his father's death and his unstable emotions were bringing a side of him that no one knew or that he hid away.He hadn't cried since he woke up but looked sad, which was expected considering the present situation. He laughed at something funny on the screen. I turned to look at him, his face calm and relaxed but his teary eyes betrayed him. He wasn't okay but was trying desperately to keep it in, which worried me. He had to let it out!"Errr, are you okay?", shit, I shouldn't have phrased it like that. I mentally f
We went through a great deal of trouble before we were finally able to carry the sleeping man into my apartment. The most painful part had been holding him up the stairs. We dropped him on the bed, not caring if he’d landed on it. My mind couldn’t process that because of how sore my ankles and arms were. “I have to go back to work. I have an article to finish. Do you have things to print, if so I could give an excuse for your disappearance.”, Justin said I remembered I hadn’t told him of what had happened on Friday. Clearing my throat, I uttered, “You don’t have to do that. I don’t work there any more” “Really? Did you move back to the workstation, or did you get fired?” “Don’t be dumb. Do you think I would be in that building if I had been fired.?” “Okay, so you’re moving back to the workstation?”, I rubbed my temple, “No, I’m not…” “Then where are you now?”, he interrupted me by asking. I glared at him and spat, “How can I tell you when you won’t let me finish speaking?” He r
Mournful, was the atmosphere that greeted me when I entered the building. People weren't gossiping about what they'd done on the weekend, everyone looked sad and downcast, including Rosa, who seemed to have been zoned out because she didn't notice me. It surprised me how personal everyone had taken Mr Nathaniel France's death. It could be because he'd been so kind to his workers, or that he'd founded the company that had put money into their pockets. My heels clicked loudly on the floor as I exited the elevator and made my way to my new office. It had been cleaned, and new furniture had been added to it. I didn't dwell on it for too long because my mind was occupied with thoughts about Mr France. Was he alright? It had come out on the news that no one had heard of him since his father's passing on Saturday, and now it was Monday. I left my office and stood in front of his door. I wasn’t sure he was in there, but I had to check. I knocked it twice but received no response. After two m
I rushed to him and cried out for help. Mr. France and Garry, who had been in the hallway also rushed to the room. Mr. France carried him from the floor and placed him in the couch while Garry called the ambulance. I let out a silent gasp when I saw the amount of blood coming out from his nose. Was he going to be alright? He had to be. Worried about his condition, I offered a silent prayer for him.A moment later, we heard a siren blurring in the distance. Paramedics checked his pulse and blood pressure, placed him in a stroller and carried him into the ambulance. Garry wanted to go with them, but Mr. France told him not to, so he didn't. Mr. France sat in his car and briefly looked at me, his eyes asking if I would be able to go alone. There was undeniable fear in his eyes, and he didn't try to conceal it. I nodded at him, assuring him that I had money on me, and he drove off, following the ambulance. I never knew I could communicate with someone without words until that moment when
The old Mr. France was sitting in the couch wearing a bathroom rope, with an edition of The Insider in his hands as I entered the room. I looked at him, amazed by his presence. I'd always looked up to him when I was growing up, so it felt good to see him in person. He'd come from a poor home but managed to fulfil his dreams and make a life for himself despite the hate and discouragement, he received from his parents. Because he did not choose to become a doctor like they wanted him to. Now he looked very old and frail, a deep contrast to the devilishly handsome man I'd made my role model. Mr France sat on one of the chairs in the room. I did so too, but not before greeting the older man. He brought the magazine down, smiled and nodded at me. I squealed internally and smiled back at him. His smile dropped from his face when his eyes landed on his son, who looked at him with a frown. I got the chance to carefully looked at the older man and realized. “You're late.”, he simply stated, a
I woke up the following morning to the sound of my phone ringing. I raised my myself from the bed and checked the time, it was thirty minutes to six. Who would call me on a Saturday, and that too at five thirty in the morning? I picked up my phone, and it was an unknown number. My thoughts wandered to the car that had followed me yesterday. Who was it? I doubted it was someone from my past. I turned off my phone and tossed it on my bed. I had changed a lot these past few years, it would be difficult for anyone I once knew to recognize. Maybe my mind had played games with me and the car wasn't even following. I said that to myself until I finally believed it and carried on with my weekend routine, which is sleeping until it's noon. Some hours later, a knock sounded on my door. It was light at first until the person began to pound on the door when I didn't respond. I got up from the bed and checked the time again, it was forty-five minutes past ten. I let out a yawn and walked to the
PAST~SEVEN YEARS BEFORE PRESENTMy back was forcefully pushed to the wall, so I winced in pain. The bald man holding my neck sneered at me, a smirk on his face. I was taller than him, but he was strong, so strong that I could barely breathe. My hands tried to pry his off me, but it was no use. We were at the alley at the back of the bar, Alexandro visited with his men on every Friday. Today I had come with him. He'd told me I would finally be part of his family if I killed one of his men who had betrayed him. I'd refused to do it, and it led to this."What? Did you think I wasn't going to know it was you, bitch?", he pressed tighter, and I thought my neck was going to snap into two, but he let go off me. I fell to the ground, coughing as my throat burned. It would surely leave a mark there. My vision was blinded with tears because I knew he was going to kill me. Alexandro wasn't one to forgive. He didn't care your age or your status, all that mattered to him was that once you wronged
"I want you to be my secretary.", I choked on my saliva and erupted into a fit of coughs as soon as the words left his mouth. My throat burned, and I hit on my chest so stop the coughs. I'd never experienced something like this before. Mr France did nothing to help, and I didn't expect much from him. After almost five minutes of me hitting my chest, I finally calmed down. He continued as if I'd not nearly died, "I'll have someone clean up the room, so you can move in as soon as possible. There are a lot of files you have to go through...", I cut me off before he said any more nonsense,"I didn't agree to it." He looked at me as if he'd grown two wings and said,"What do you mean by you've not agreed to it.", I shrank in my seat and couldn't look him in the eye because of how he was looking at me. It was like he was telling me there'd be major consequences if I didn't agree with him. "You asked me to be your secretary but I-I h-haven't s-said yes t-to t-that.", I stuttered. I didn't kn