Two weeks later, the drive to Stanton’s building was long, and Elvie knew she didn’t have to drive because Zander’s men was ready to drive her newly purchased Audi SUV Q2, but she wanted a minute out of her husband's prying eyes. Not that she was complaining about him buying her a new car. In fact, she didn't want to drive the shiny, massive thing, but he was being so stubborn and bribed her with Thea’s ballet class. If she would take the car, he would arrange for a class with the famous ballerina in the city. How could she deny that opportunity to her daughter? Of course, she accepted it. That’s what you get for being a shithead and stealing glances from your fickle-minded husband. She grimaced as she thought to herself. Yes, they have been very civil, acting like newlyweds in front of the mansion’s stuff and especially to their daughter, but still, when they were alone, they acted like they were complete strangers, even though she was stealing glances and daydreaming about making l
Hours ticked by, hoovering up the minutes and sucking them into an entire sun-deprived day. Elvie spent them researching the many disturbing ways she could freeze, melt, and scrub cellulite to death. Hell, it was nothing like the numbers she used to solve in her university days. She was an accountant for a reason, yet here she was, searching for mind-shattering women’s problems about wrinkles and skin care products she didn't even know existed in this world.When the clock hit two, the elevator dinged chirpily. But that was the only chipper thing about the occasion. Time stopped. So did the clicking of keyboards and the radio stations blasting over the floor, along with the general chitchat. By the way the air hung and dangled like a sword above my neck, she guessed that the cigar-smelly SVP had arrived.Gerald pushed off his desk and motioned for Almera and Elvie to get out of their cubicles as she wiped the cold sweat from her palms over her dress.She just hoped no one recognised h
When Elvie got back to her cubicle, her first instinct was to drown herself in silly beauty samples and boring clay masks. But as soon as she walked in, she realised she had some explaining to do. Gerald and Almera sat side-by-side, cross-legged, staring at her like she was an alien in a Discovery Channel special. All they needed was popcorn and coke.Gerald jerked his thumb in the elevator’s direction. “Explain now, boobily nun! Now!”“There’s nothing—”Almera butted in. “Oh yeah? I don't think so, little girl. Zeus, the CEO of SBC slash Lord Assholemort slash very hot-yummylicious batman, never offers people eye contact, let alone talks to them.”He doesn’t, now? Wow! That was not so surprising, Elvie thought to herself.“You better start singing like it’s American Idol and I’m Simon Cowell, girl.” Gerald snapped his fingers, wiggling his ass in his seat. “I want to know how, when, where, and how long. Especially the long part. Inches and all. Was it that long? I mean, you know... t
The next morning, Zander found himself in his office with a throbbing headache, a direct result of the sleepless night he had endured. Thea had fallen sick and had repeatedly called out for him, her feverish pleas tugging at his heartstrings. As he rubbed his temples, he couldn't shake off the worry that had nestled itself deep within him."Good morning, Mr. Stanton! Here is your coffee, daily schedule, and the news bulletins for today. You have a ten o’clock meeting with the SVP’s in the meeting room, and your dry cleaner left a message that your grey Prada pea coat is missing. They sent their apologies and offered a twenty-percent discount off your next visit. What would you like me to do with this information, sir?"Bunch a lawsuit into a ball and shove it down their throats. He thought to himself.Overall, his PA, Bella Shemerson, was an okay girl. An accountant grad who Zander was pretty sure still thought being a One Direction fan was lit, she did make an effort—something that co
Elvie bit her lips as she stood there in the executive hallway, frozen and holding a yellow cardboard box to her chest, refusing to look scared. With her sun-kissed hair and a dusting of freckles covering her button-like nose, she was the type of beauty that suddenly sneaked up on everyone. Though she wore a matching Gucci dark pencil skirt and a white satin shirt, paired with t-strap dark shoes, she thought it was the most simple and uncatching getup. But the more they looked at her, the more they realised how striking she was. She looked like she belonged on a runway. Even in her simple attire, she looked like freedom and tasted like a piece of the sky. Why hadn't she noticed that part of her before? Yeah, she dressed beautifully ever since he saw her when he was still in university, but still, he hadn't thought of her like that—like a woman. Zander wanted to grab her and slam her over the desk, fucking her three ways to Sunday in front of his entire executive crew. The problem w
Zander frowned and almost broke into a smile—not fake, not calculated, and also not constructive to his twitching dick. "So, how's the first day, dear? Exhausted?" If nothing else, her face was kind of funny. He thought to himself. Elvie glared at him and took her purse from the floor. His words were like a slap in the face, and Elvie's frustration erupted. "This isn't a game, Zander. I deserve respect, and your intentional cruelty is crossing a line. Ignoring me all day and trying to hurt my feelings? What's the matter with you?" Their confrontation crackled with tension, a couple locked in a battle of emotions amidst the hum of ringing phones. "Seriously? Are you this childish?" she almost growled before adding, too annoyed to even look at his smirking lips, "You transferred me here? For what? As fucking decoration? Do I look like a bloody vase to you?" "No! You look like an eye sore to me!" He rolled his eyes. "Why the hell didn't you look for a table? Or do something then?" "Do
Things got progressively and methodically worse in the week following Elvie’s move from High Fashion to the executive department. The place was a zoo made out of rich perfume, stupid brains, and expensive oak desks glued together in a wave pattern. The newsroom was round, with glass walls. There was a stairway to the next floor that led to a door with a plaque plastered on it: FOR ZEUS ONLY This referred to the actual studio-type room with a glass wall, where the jerky god himself could see everything. But Elvie couldn’t feel the fairy dust on her skin because she was too busy trying to survive her life as she knew it. Her secret husband was the first to kill her mood, every fucking day. Zeus had decided to play a trick on her. First came the carnation flowers, chocolate with insects inside, and text messages that told her to watch her back. When those were ignored or given to the lonely, attractive receptionist, Zander started making pranks that ranged from a dead rat to bloody
Inwardly, Elvie could hear the god of all gods and goddesses rumbling, "Yup. She’s throwing me under the bus again." She made a mental note to put some chilli on Zander’s boxers later just to appease the real god of Olympus. "Oh, wifey dear, I’m not in the business of repeating myself," he seethed, ignoring her jab, and if she knew one thing about Zander, it was that he never passed up an opportunity to outwit her once she threw a jab at him. "And I don’t want you near him. Matheo’s intentions aren’t pure. Trust me, I know." "Oh, really, and yours are?" she huffed. "Look, I can’t—and won’t—ignore the SVP. He is also my boss, remember?" Zander bent down to bite her ear and groaned, "Oh, silly, little girl. I am the boss. The one and only. I’m the man who fucked you senseless before and I know you can’t stop thinking about. I’m the asshole you masturbate to in order to get off. I’m the guy who will destroy my competition, especially when it comes to that old cow. So, do yourself a fav