CHAPTER 8

Nathan's POV 

I could hear my alarm blaring from the nightstand by my king-size bed. I was still feeling sleepy because I slept so late last night, working on the business proposal my father wanted me to come up with.

“Oh God, it's 7 a.m. already.” A surge of irritation came on me: “I can legitimately swear that I slept just a few hours ago.” These days, rest has become such a luxury.

This billionaire lifestyle is so difficult. The saying "money isn't everything" echoes within me deeply. I can't even remember the last time I had a proper rest or genuinely had fun.

When I was a dirty and broke street thug, I was happier than I am now. I didn't have to worry about so many responsibilities. I didn't have to worry about business deals, proposals, or any investments. I didn't have to prove my capability to anyone. Somehow, I actually missed the days I lived without a care.

Dragging myself out of the duvet, I ventured into the en-suite bathroom. After a quick shower, I walked into my closet to pick up my clothes and accessories, as I forbade any housekeepers from walking into my personal space. I can't trust anyone easily. Who knows what John has up his sleeve? I can be anything, but I'm definitely not stupid enough to trust strangers with myself.

I made my way to the dining hall. "Good morning, master.” Isabella, the head chef, greeted and bowed slightly.

I brushed past her without a reply. Yes, I'm an unrepentant asshole; I hardly acknowledge the workers' greetings. Everyone is a potential suspect to me. I'm much safer in the slums of Rome than I am in this mansion. I can't identify the cause of my fears, though.

Sensing my mood, she continued talking. She told me breakfast was ready and asked if I would like to eat since I hardly eat breakfast and mostly leave the house in haste. I reluctantly agreed to eat a small portion, and she hurried back into the kitchen.

"Today is going to be a good one. At least I'm going to see that woman—Julia or Juliet. Oh, please don't tell me I forgot her name already. I will make it a point to ask her and always remember. To know her is to love her. She exudes peace and unmatched beauty," I thought as I sat at the rear end of the hall.

I'm sure she doesn't have as many enemies as I do, but how have I been living my life that I don't even feel safe despite all my money and bodyguards? I guess it's karma doing its thing. People have always felt threatened by me. Now it's my turn to taste my own medicine.

My phone started beeping, which drew me out of my thoughts. I looked at the caller ID, and it was Jessie, my stepsister. I picked up the call. "Hello, sis," I said, with forced happiness.

On the other end of the call, she replied that her voice was less cheerful. "Father is going to call you in a while. He said the proposal you sent him last night was faulty. From the manner in which he spoke, he sounded really angry. When he calls, he might say a lot of hurtful words to you. Please don't argue or avoid his call altogether. I'm going to come by the office later today, so we can come up with something better.” She hung up abruptly.

Anger bubbled up inside me. "And what the hell is this? I worked so hard on this proposal, and then he tagged it nonsense. I roared angrily and sighed. I could see the chef's hands trembling as she served the food. She must have been afraid.

"I won't be eating anymore. I lost my appetite.” I declared and dashed out angrily, heading towards.The driver raced toward the office.

On the journey to the office, I kept pondering how to excel at my job. The job is difficult enough, and not getting the recognition and accolades I deserve is even more difficult.

The driver was parking in the garage when I saw her—my new PA—coming out of an old car and running into the hospital hastily. I got out and went into the office. I already had her seated when I walked in. She greeted me. I ignored her and demanded a cup of coffee.

Her confused expression revealed her ignorance of my coffee preference, which was confirmed when she summoned up the courage and asked me.

"Are you just stupid or daft? Aren't you supposed to know my coffee preference by now? And you came to work late. Do you think we groom amateurs here? Aren't you supposed to resume work early? You must think you are something special for me to employ.” I swallowed hard, internally admitting to her uniqueness.

"Now you want to start misbehaving. You better do your job well and be good at it, or I'm going to fire you before you know  it," I shouted angrily at her, attracting other people's attention as whispers filled the room.

Regretting my actions almost immediately, I became embarrassed and bitter at myself. Nathan, what have you done? You just keep hurting her over and over again, and you keep ruining your chances of her forgiving you.

Aside from her lateness, she hadn't done anything wrong to attract so much wrath from me. I was angry at Father, and I just directed my aggression and frustrations onto her because she is a weaker vessel. "Today, which I had anticipated was going to be a good one, has already been ruined by my actions," I muttered angrily.

She just stood there, saying nothing, and I could hear her sob softly. I watched as her eyes, which once radiated peace and happiness, now reflected pain and sadness.

I retreated into my office and slammed the door shut. What a bad impression I have given her. I doubt we will ever get along.