Chapter 3

My eyes clouded with tears as I came to the heart-rending but liberating conclusion. I was leaving.

The thoughts of my first time in the company crossed my mind, and I shut my eyes sadly.

It had been my best day ever.

I had been in a room with over fifty ladies who were also to be interviewed for the same position. Paul Thomas's secretary—The Paul Thomas.

He was famous in the country and abroad for his feats in the business world at the young age of twenty-four. Twenty-one-year-old me had nothing other than a college degree, no job, and a young sister to take care of.

I was terribly anxious on the day of the interview, especially after seeing many ladies storm out of the interview room in tears. I needed the pay that the job offered.

When I was finally called into the room, I was blown away by the charms and intelligence of the young CEO. He had made me comfortable in his presence and had even complimented me.

I was so surprised when I got the job. My screams were what woke my sleeping sister that day. Elle was so happy for me and wished me the best.

Working for Paul had been the best thing ever for the first six months until it was not.

Till now, I couldn't understand how a man could change from an angel to a demon in a snap of the fingers. I couldn't understand how I realised so late that he was manipulative and cruel—my heart had already gone to him.

For over a year after that, I had endured all he pain he had thrown my way, telling myself those were thorns I had to go through to get the rose—him.

After this traumatic incident at the hotel—the final straw that broke the carmel's back—I was going to make the decision I should have made a year ago.

I was resigning.

I walked over to the printer in my office after typing an extensive letter to receive the hard copy. I sealed it in an envelope and placed it on my desk.

Bending down, I began to dismantle the things I had once worked with in this office. I pulled the large cardboard box and threw in the notes, memos, files, stamps—everything I had once worked with.

I felt a pair of eyes on me as I packed. I didn't need a soothsayer to tell me it was him. Ignoring him, I went on packing my things.

"Anne," his voice called our behind me.

I paused in my steps before turning around slowly to face him. He was obviously just returning from the meeting.

"I need a cup of coffee on my desk in the next ten minutes," he snapped, ignoring the state of my office. "I want the usual. Dark. No sugar. Strong. Freshly brewed."

My eyes grew stern as I walked over to my desk and grabbed the letter I had just printed out.

"Here, sir," I stated, handing him the letter.

He stared at it with an impassive expression, his face neutral and his hands tucked into his pocket. "What's this? And why should I pay more attention to it over my cup of coffee?"

Wasn't it obvious? My insides boiled with anger, but I refrained from lashing out. "I'm resigning. This is my letter. I'm already packing my things, sir."

He stared at me with hooded eyes, not taking the letter from my hands, which were beginning to ache. He observed me, not saying anything for a torturous moment.

"You're not resigning," he finally stated. "Get me my cup of coffee and prepare the schedule for my next meeting with the management. It's in the next four days."

With that, he turned and strode to his office, which was just beside mine, ignoring the letter in my stretched hands.

My face burned in rage. Who did he think he was to tell me not to resign?

I stormed after him to his office, my face obviously as red as an overripe tomato.

"Mr Paul Thomas, I want to resign—"

"Where is my cup of coffee?" He questioned, ignoring my request yet again.

My eyes narrowed into his. "I will not be getting you your cup of coffee because I'm resigning, Mr Paul!"

He stared into my eyes intensely with an icy glare, but I refused to be intimidated.

"I already answered you in this topic, and I don't want to talk about it again. Get me my cup of coffee, or you'd be penalised."

I wanted to scream and pull my hair out. "You can't tell me not to resign. I want to, and I have a right to."

His lips curved upwards slightly in a ghost of a smirk.

"Why do you want to resign?"

Was he really asking me that? I felt my tears sting the back of my eyes again. I hated how emotional I got at times.

"Because I have the right to, sir," I snapped, my anger bubbling out in my speech. "I don't want to work for you anymore."

His smirk grew, and my palms itched to slap it off.

"Why? Because I told you the painful truth?" He asked, standing up and walking towards me. I took equal steps backwards, glaring at him. "Tell me why. Because I told you to stop being so proud?"

Gladly, he stopped inches away from me, making me let out a sigh in relief.

"Do you realise your rash decision will affect your sister? How will she go to school? How will you take care of her? I'm sure you know the orphanage will be more than grateful to take her away from you again if you're unable to provide for her and take care of her."

My heart sunk at his words, and my resolve faltered slightly, but I had made up my mind regardless. I'd rather work the lowliest of jobs than remain with this manipulative and evil man.

"Don't forget, if you resign and leave having a bad record in my books, your chances of getting any other reasonable job would drop by a hundred percent," he warned, his eyes threatening.

I stood my ground anyway, not saying a word. I stretched the letter of resignation to him, my lips pressed into a thin line.

I'd rather preserve my dignity than remain here constantly trampled upon.

His eyes turned dark when he realised he was not going to change my mind. He went back to his seat and settled in it, leaning backwards and stretching his palms.

Gladly, I handed him the letter, smirking in victory.

My heart stopped, however, when he placed it in the shredder beside his chair. I watched it rip into a million irretrievable pieces in the shredder basket.

His eyes were dark and icy as he glared at me, his anger evident on his face.

"What do you want? A raise? What exactly do you want?" He questioned, slamming his fist on the desk.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trembling slightly af the dangerous glare in his eyes.

"I want to leave."

He stared intensely at me again before saying the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard in my life.

"I could offer you another job," he started, his fingers grazing his chin as he stared at me coldly. "Be my girlfriend. You'll be treated with respect, and I'll support you."

My heart stopped beating, and I stared at him, torn. Was this another form of manipulation, or was he being sincere?