For you, Yurtranslator
Jessica was ultra super alert in the morning when Clara came to work. The assistant followed her into her office and made a show of needing something in her office every thirty minutes. It didn't take long to put two and two together; the younger woman was doing her best to ensure that the previous day's incident didn't repeat itself. But Clara felt like she were being stalked and by the time the hand of the clock struck ten, she was dizzy and fed up with granting access for the umpeetenth time. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't teleport and therefore won't run away if not through that door you are doing a hell of a job guarding. Should I recommend you for a promotion to the division of security?" Clara had finally had it and sighed after that rapidly blurted out sentence left her lips. For Pete's sake the lady was driving her crazy. At this point, she couldn't even put the thoughts in her head together. But Jessica was unfazed at being interrogated, seeing it rather as an op
Resuming her slow steps, she continued, every attention focused on her. "What happens in the next few years when we perhaps want to terminate the contract with them? We will lose those investors who only have faith in the partnership, not the project itself. Meanwhile the M.C. company is already aware of the power they wield by being at the centre of the attention. They can make incessant demands in the contract. My apologies Ms. Kate but, I don't do that kind of business." Not to add that they had agreed to it immediately because Viscount and the actress Marie had worked in the background for their ulterior motives. She would not place herself in a position where her desire to succeed could be used to play Andre especially now that he was starting to come around. He still went out at night after work, but he no longer stayed out so late and even returned early for dinner the previous night. He slept with her in the same bed and though he still had those episodes, she easily embrace
"What do you say? Do you like it?" Fiona Grey set down the petite ceramic cup on its matching saucer, her lean manicured fingers moving elegantly as she picked the napkin and dabbed the corner of her mouth with it. In her right palm were printed papers fresh from the machine, the fragrance of new books mingling with her signature perfume. She looked up from the papers where her attention had been for the past ten minutes, her lips curving in a small smile. "This is impressive, Clara. I don't see why it shouldn't work out." She was nodding as she spoke, her eyes returning to the papers in serious concentration. Clara waited patiently with her heart in her palm, hoping that Fiona would be impressed till the end. She really needed this collaboration to happen with her and wondered why she hadn't thought of her in the first place. Finally, the sophisticated Italian lady laid down the papers on the glass desk which stood between them, sweeping a strand of hair backwards unconsciously
"You...came?" The relief in that broken voice ignited Fiona's warnings against the actress; she had either gone nuts to return for the son she abandoned after 25 years or simply broke. Clara hoped it wasn't the latter but kept her mind open to possibilities, wondering if her sudden return could have anything to do with the endorsements she had dropped out of. Had something happened that the reporters weren't aware of? "I... appreciate you honouring my call. Thank you, Clara." Clara hardened her heart against the pool flooding the woman's eyes. She was never going to forget that she was on Andre's side and hadn't come to sympathise with her. Especially if there was a possibility that the woman was only acting to get what she wanted. "Why? Why now?" It was all she could mutter in response. Upclose, it was easy to get the features Marie shared with Andre which hadn't been lost during plastic surgery. It was that arrogant Roman nose and those haunting sea-grey eyes as well as the c
The dull shade of dark brown hadn't looked more interesting to her, engaging enough to take her attention, such that even when the limousine came to a halt, she wasn't immediately aware of it. Clara's concentration was however returned to her physical environment when her eyes observed the door opening, followed by the chauffer and guards moving out of the limo. She looked out the window then, her forehead furrowing in confusion as she realised that they weren't anywhere near her building. Had they informed her of a change of plans when she was deeply immersed in her thoughts? She got her answer soon afterwards when Ursula, the last person in the vehicle with her tapped her earplug and then turned to Clara. "The boss is here." "Boss...Andre... Quinn?" She had to be sure because they were parked by the side of the road a good distance from her house. Was he do much in a hurry that he hadn't even waited for her to get there? Or had something else happened? "Yes ma'am." That was a
"Clara, you will be more comfortable in the car." For a minute, she ignored him, hating herself for the sudden weakness and yet being aware that the panic attack hadn't been her fault. Her breathing had finally steadied, but she waited a moment before returning to her position, moving to the edge when he took the seat next to hers. He breathed heavily, linking his fingers together. "I just need to know what you were doing with her. I may have got ahead of myself with those assumptions but..." "You 'may have?' It's under probability? When I told you I loved you, did you think it was a joke?" Her anger had given way for ache and emptiness. Her body was starting to quiver, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she felt shivers of cold wash over her. Andre swallowed hard, leaning his heavy head against the seat. "I didn't know what to believe when I saw this." Clara chuckled humourlessly, lost on where to start from. "It was sent to me through a restricted number and..." "You
He could taste the bile in his throat which had spilled sometime last night, dripping fresh bitter juices in his mind, body and soul. It clogged his brain to a state of inability to think, and halted his lungs from functioning properly, inducing pain and discomfort in his system. He failed to think properly as those images he had suppressed for years, covering them with greater physical pains returned more clearly than those HD quality pictures Viscount had used to fuck with his head. Seeing the two women he had strong distinct feelings for discussing so intently did it to him, making him sprout those words he had vowed not to reveal to anyone. He had left the limo minutes after that unplanned revelation and driven aimlessly for hours till he'd run out of gas by the side of the beach. He had sat by the shore, stifling those images which were crawling with more strength than he could control, and before he had known what he was doing, he had been on his knees, punching the sand and s
Two familiar knocks sounded like alarm bells, reminders that he had a purpose he had held onto which Viscount had dared disrupt. He took slow steps towards the closet and pulled fresh underpants over his thighs. Next he wore joggers and tank top, before granting the other party permission. "Mr. Quinn, good morning, sir." "Morning, Luca." There wasn't a hint of surprise in the eyes of the ex-consigliere, he had witnessed his own share of this scenario over the years of working for Andre. The chains did nothing to faze him, neither did those sunken eyes get to him. He made no comment about the rough night his boss had obviously had and pulled out the seat nearby, slumping his butt into it. Andre combed through his disheveled hair with his fingers and sat at the edge of the bed, making efforts not to pick up the phone and reply those numerous text messages from Clara. He cleared his throat. "Do you have what I asked for?" His voice was in a rough gruffy state, hoarse and croaked