Chapter 3: FAMILIAR.

He was brought to Ethan’s office. Or, to be exact, to the reception room outside his office. Then Brandon was told to wait. Which would have been fine if it hadn’t already been three hours.

Brandon glared at the golden plaque on the door that seemed to mock him: "Ethan Asher, CEO." So, apparently, that dick was the CEO of Wings. That explained a lot. And now, Brandon was never going to get that job he had hoped for so much, the one that was supposed to help him take care of his pressing bills. If only he had known, he would have kept his mouth shut like the others. Look where being bold and vocal had gotten him. Nevertheless, he still couldn't stand being degraded. He has had his fair share of that experience and had sworn to his late mom that he would never be in such a position again, regardless of what or who.

For Ethan to be the CEO and treat people like this, he must be a soulless leader with no remorse. People working under him must have seen heaven and hell while doing so.

With every passing hour, his hope that Ethan had actually intended to listen, apologize, or say something worthwhile gradually faded—until it was gone. Who was he kidding? People like Ethan never saw themselves doing something as 'shallow' as apologizing or committing to be better.

“All right, I’m leaving,” Brandon finally said. He had better things to do with his time than sit in this ridiculously fancy room and wait for hours for an audience with the resident dictator.

“You can’t!” the secretary said. “Mr. Ethan asked you to wait. You will wait.”

Brandon scoffed and stood up. “I’m going.”

The woman—Becky, if he remembered correctly—sprang to her feet, panic flashing across her face. “You must stay. Please. I’ll be the one getting the heat of his anger if his orders aren’t carried out. Please—don’t make me lose my job. I have kids to take care of,” she pleaded.

Brandon sighed and dropped back into his chair. Sometimes being a nice person sucked; it really did. But he didn’t want the poor woman to suffer because of him. “Why don’t you quit instead of working for that asshole?”

Becky grimaced and turned back to her computer. “Please don’t talk about Mr. Asher that way,” she whispered.

Brandon rolled his eyes. “Come on, he isn’t here. Why are you all so scared of him? He’s just a guy.”

Becky shot him a look that reminded Brandon of the way his sister looked at adorable but utterly clueless men.

The phone on her desk rang. From the way her entire body stiffened, Brandon could guess who it was.

She picked it up. “Yes, sir,” she said timidly. “No, sir… Yes, of course, I’ll do it right away… The press is ready, yes… Of course, sir… They said they’d get your interview by five o’clock… Of course, sir… Yes, sir.”

Brandon scoffed. He hadn’t thought people still addressed their bosses as “sir” in the twenty-first century. With all the development? It sounded pretty archaic. It was so weird. He had worked in a couple of places before, although not as prominent this one, but everyone addressed their exec by their first name. No cowering and worshipping a man who must have been spoon-fed because he was too young to be a CEO—he couldn’t be much older than twenty, maybe thirty at most.

“Yes, sir… Of course. Yes, he’s still waiting for you. Right away, sir.” Becky hung up and exhaled. Then she looked at Brandon. “Go. He’s waiting for you.”

Brandon was kind of tempted to rub it in his face and leave, but that would be foolish and all his waiting would be in vain. Besides, Becky would really get in trouble. Why not go in there and express his feelings without sugar-coating his words? After all, he had already lost the job opportunity for sure. What else was there to lose? Possibly, his bravery if he didn't stand up to Ethan until the end.

Quickly, he marched into the man’s office. The door clicked shut behind him, cutting off all the sounds from outside the room.

Brandon cleared his throat.

Ethan lifted his gaze from his computer. He was leaned back in his chair, his posture seemingly relaxed. He had removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing strong forearms built with thick muscle. Thick. Powerful. Everything about this man screamed strength and power, from his wide shoulders to the biceps straining his white shirt. His emotionless face with gleaming dark eyes just added to the whole nerve-racking package.

He was intimidating, and it took a lot of breathing exercises and brief meditation for Brandon not to apologize and bid him a good day. His palms were sweaty, and he was fidgeting. How could one man have such an effect on another human being?

They stared at each other for a long moment, the seconds slowly passing by.

Finally, Brandon couldn’t take it anymore. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Well?” he said, breaking the silence first. “You wanted to see me, why? Be quick, I have more pressing things to do.”

Ethan’s eyebrows twitched. He was probably surprised Brandon wasn’t tripping over his own feet to please him, as everyone else did. And, he hadn't given up the attitude, too.

Then, Ethan looked at the sheet of paper in front of him and said, “Brandon Nate Daniel, twenty-three years old. Lives alone with his sister who’s in college. Bachelor of Management and Administration and professional chef recently graduated from August University. Top of his class—”

“What the fuck?” Brandon said, more confused than angry. “Did you stalk me?”

Ethan gave him a flat look. “I don’t ‘stalk’ anyone. I have people who gather information for me.”

“You mean you have people whose job it is to stalk other people?”

“Sit.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Sit.” Ethan’s voice was like a whip.

Brandon wasn’t proud of himself, but he did as he was told. He didn’t know what it was about this man that made it very difficult to disobey him.

“Now what?” Brandon grumbled.

Ethan’s heavy gaze made him want to squirm. “You do realize that your behavior today was very unwise, considering you needed the job?” Although it was a question, there was so little inflection in Ethan’s voice that it seemed like a statement.

Brandon tensed up when he realized what Ethan was implying. “Are you threatening me?” Then he recollected himself. “I know I already lost it. So, what?”

“I have better things to do with my time than threaten little boys who have no knowledge about companies and how they function.”

Brandon clenched his fists on his thighs. “Then what is this? Why did you make me wait for ages to tell me that?”

Ethan’s expression was dismissive. “You were the one who swayed the others into becoming a nuisance. I simply took the bad egg out so that the rotten smell wouldn't get out of hand. You were making the environment unbearable for my employees. But I didn’t intend to make you wait this long. I simply forgot about you—until security sent me a file on you.”