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The Cold-Hearted Man

Author: theraregirl22
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

On her way inside, Athea spotted a huge glass that showed her whole reflection, making her stop on her tracks. As she stood in front of the glass, she stared at her reflection without blinking. A beautiful woman with pale blue eyes was staring back at her. She was wearing a camel business suit with a white shirt tucked underneath. Her long hair, which she had dyed mushroom brown blonde a few days ago, shone brightly in the sunlight. She always stood out because of her striking appearance, which she inherited from her mother. Even though she had no memories of her mother. She had seen countless pictures of her. They practically looked like twins.

Anthea smiled at her reflection before fixing her hair. She looked almost perfect with the suit and minimal make-up she had on. Her face was flawless even without makeup, except for the small cut under her chin, which she got from that horrible day.

"Why are you standing here?" Anthea turned around to look at Emilia, who was frowning at her.

"I was waiting for you." She lied while smiling at her. Emilia didn’t detect her lie, so she nodded before smiling back.

"Let's go. It's your first day. We need to introduce you to our employees since they are already expecting your presence, the new CEO, Anthea Morin." Emilia pulled on Anthea's arms before giggling excitedly. Anthea, on the other hand, chuckled and shook her head at her excitement, but she still followed her inside to mark her first day after being back in the city, which snatched everything from her. ----------------------------

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After the small introduction and welcome ceremony with the employees were over, Anthea was directed to her office. She also had to meet the shareholders and the board of directors for lunch. When she first entered her office. She was impressed with the way it was set up. Her office was huge and spacious, located on the top floor with a killer view of the city. The room was decorated according to her taste. Everything inside was designed minimally but still with a touch of elegance. The combination of black and white really soothed her. Anthea couldn't help but smile at the view in front of the glass window. As she looked down from the window, her heart didn't beat erratically. Everything looked so tiny from there. She couldn't feel herself getting anxious by looking down, and her palms didn't begin to sweat. She was as calm as before. The phobia of heights was gone. She wasn't afraid of heights anymore. No one could make fun of her or humiliate her just because she couldn't climb or stand high.

Anthea scoffed while shaking her head to get rid of the sudden, unwanted thoughts. She then turned around and began to walk towards her mahogany desk. Five years is a long time to change a person completely. She wasn't the same naive woman who would cry her heart out every time she got hurt or felt lost. That naive woman was already dead five years ago. There's no sign of her. If there's something left, then it's only her vengeance. Her thirst to avenge herself and the precious things she lost because of those people

Anthea stood in front of her desk while her eyes stared at the blue file lying neatly on her desk. She smiled at the title of the file, but there was no sign of happiness in her blue eyes. Instead, they glinted dangerously as she reached her hand down before picking up the file in her hands.

"Rayan Allen," Anthea whispered, the name that was the sole reason behind her nightmares, her wounds, and her thirst for vengeance. There's nothing that could stop a woman who sets her mind to vengeance, and if the woman's name was Anthea Morin, then

all hell would break loose.

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In a spacious, lavishly appointed office, the room's extravagance was only surpassed by the man who occupied it. Tall with chiselled features and an aura of undeniable charisma, he exuded an air of unattainable allure. His flawlessly tailored navy blue suit, undoubtedly of the highest quality, hugged his frame with precision. The suit jacket casually left hanging on the back of a leather chair revealed a crisp, perfectly fitted white dress shirt beneath.

Seated behind a grand, mahogany desk that seemed tailor-made for a figure of his stature, he leaned forward, his sharp ocean-blue eyes fixed intently on the documents splayed out before him. His jet-black hair was styled perfectly on top of his head without a single strand falling out of place. The office, a masterpiece of interior design, featured tasteful, minimalist decor. Pristine white walls with black lines framed with elegant artwork and shelves lined with leather-bound books lent an air of refined sophistication. Two big black couches were placed in the middle of the room, along with a round table.

As he meticulously reviewed each document, his expression remained unfazed, almost icy. The sharp lines of his jaw only accentuated the cold determination in his eyes. Every movement he made seemed calculated, and every decision was measured. In this palatial cover of wealth and power, he was the epitome of success and allure, a commanding presence amidst the grand surroundings. He was none other than Rayan Allen, the aloof and powerful CEO of Allen Enterprises, who took over his father's business seven years ago and brought it to the highest peak of success. His company is now one of the top 10 leading companies in the world.

A sudden knock on the door distracted the man from the work; he was engrossed in making a small frown appear on his face. Without lifting his eyes from the papers, he spoke out in his deep, authoritative voice.

"Come in." The sound of his voice echoed throughout the whole room, and a few seconds later, the black wooden door was pushed open with footsteps approaching. A blonde-haired petite figure walked in while dressed in a black knee-length skirt and beige top, along with a pair of high heels, which kept making a clicking sound on the marbled floor as she walked. She was holding a big flower bouquet in her hand before stopping a few metres away from Rayan's desk.

"I apologise for disturbing you at this moment, Mr. Allen. But someone sent this for you." A gentle, feminine voice reached Rayan's ears, making him finally tear his eyes from the documents he had been holding for quite some time. His eyes first swiftly glanced at his assistant, who had a nervous expression plastered all over her face, before fixing on the big flower bouquet she was holding in her arm. It could have been an ordinary bouquet of roses if not for its colour.

It was a bouquet of black roses.

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