CHAPTER FIVE
983 Words
I have to jog down the stairs because of my heartless boss.
I don’t even know where the restaurant is, so I quickly check Google Maps and run toward it. Thankfully, it’s only five minutes away.
By the time I arrive, I look completely disheveled but I don’t care. If I don’t get the food on time, I’m doomed. Mr. Anderson Black will roast me alive.
“What’s your business, miss?” the guard asks, eyeing my appearance. Of course, I don’t look like someone who belongs here. My clothes are cheap, and I clearly don’t fit in.
“I’m here to pick up lunch for my boss, Anderson Black,” I reply.
“Alright, miss,” the guard says politely, stepping aside to let me in.
Inside, I repeat my request at the reception and am asked to wait in the lobby. Within minutes, Anderson’s order is handed to me.
I guess they really value him here.
I mean, who wouldn’t?
The mighty Anderson Black rich, powerful… and fond of belittling people.
Shaking the thought away, I hurry back to the building.
Then reality hits me.
I have to climb a hundred floors.
Just as I’m about to begin, I notice a man heading toward the elevator.
“Excuse me, sir. Which floor are you going to?” I ask politely.
He looks to be in his late twenties and gives me a puzzled look.
“To the boss. Why?” he asks.
Perfect.
“Great! Could you please hand this to him?” I say, pushing the food toward him perhaps a bit too eagerly.
“Wait… what?” he asks, clearly confused.
“I accidentally used the private elevator, so now I’m forced to use the stairs for the whole day. I’m Mr. Black’s personal assistant. If I climb all the way up, the food will get cold,” I explain quickly.
He sighs lightly. “Yeah… he’s done that to others too. Let’s just say the boss is strict. I’m the manager, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say with a grateful smile. “And thank you so much.”
He nods, and I turn to the stairs.
After twenty exhausting minutes, I finally reach the top floor. My legs feel like jelly.
I walk into his office, ready for my next task.
“Is there anything else I should do?” I ask.
I freeze when I see the manager sitting inside, discussing something with Anderson.
Anderson glances at me, irritation clear on his face.
“Do you not see I’m in a meeting? Do you have no manners?” he snaps. “Stand there quietly until I’m done. Then I’ll deal with you.”
I move to the corner, standing silently with my hands behind my back.
I don’t sit.
He didn’t ask me to.
My legs ache terribly, but I endure it.
He just humiliated me in front of the manager.
Tears sting my eyes, but I force them back.
You’re his mistress, Chloe. Why would you expect respect?
After thirty long minutes, the meeting ends.
“John, go through this file and brief me on the key points,” Anderson says.
John nods and begins reading.
Anderson finally turns his attention to me.
“I asked you to bring my lunch ,not send it through someone else,” he says coldly.
“It would’ve gotten cold. The stairs take too long,” I explain carefully.
“I have a microwave,” he replies flatly. “This building has plenty of them. Your excuse is pathetic.”
His gaze hardens.
“Next time, don’t assign your work to others ,especially your seniors. Respect people here the same way you respect me. Understood?”
“But” I start.
“No buts, Chloe,” he cuts me off sharply. “I told you I hate disrespect.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply quietly.
“Good. Now apologize to Mr. John.”
I turn to him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to deliver the lunch. It wasn’t your responsibility.”
“It’s alright,” he says kindly. “But do follow the rules here, as the boss said.”
“Come,” Anderson orders, already walking out.
I follow him.
“The food is in the kitchen,” he says. “Your job isn’t just to bring it you serve it too.”
I nod and head to the kitchen.
Carefully, I arrange everything on a plate and heat the food. Once done, I set it neatly on the table and stand aside.
Anderson walks in and inspects everything.
“Always place the coffee on the right, Chloe.”
I quickly adjust it.
Why does it even matter?
Can I just pour it on his head instead?
That would make more sense.
Instead of sitting, he walks toward me.
“You’ve been scolded a lot today, haven’t you?” he murmurs near my ear, his tone suddenly soft completely different from before.
My breath catches.
“You shouldn’t have blackmailed me, sweetheart. All of this could have been avoided,” he whispers.
His lips brush against my cheek before trailing down to my neck.
I freeze.
His hands trap me in place as he presses closer, his touch shifting between gentle and firm.
I struggle to control my reaction, my body tense.
“You fit perfectly in my arms,” he murmurs. “You’d be interesting to keep.”
Then, just as suddenly, he pulls away.
I exhale shakily.
He returns to his seat and starts eating as if nothing happened.
Like it meant nothing.
I stand there, completely stunned.
I’ve never been in a relationship before… this is all new to me.
But not for him.
He’s been with countless beautiful women.
So why does this feel so strange?
I sigh quietly.
What have I gotten myself into?
- Writer
