TILL SHE BURN

THE TAKE OVER "Hello oo, wake up! You've slept enough," Olivia said, her voice teasing as she yanked down the duvet from Sheila's half covered body. Sheila groaned and blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. She stretched lazily, arms over her head, and rubbed her sleepy eyes. “When are you returning my house key?” she asked playfully. “Never!” Olivia grinned. “You have mine, and I have yours. Mutual hostage situation.” They both laughed, their easy rhythm the kind only true friendship could bring. “Now go freshen up so we won’t miss our flight,” Olivia said, tossing a robe at Sheila. Sheila dragged herself out of bed, her hair a sleepy mess. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked, leaning on the bathroom doorframe. Sheila asked hesitantly, clearly reluctant to go. She had always been the type to stay indoors , curled up with a marketing textbook, reading romance novels, or simply taking time to clear her mind. Social outings weren’t really her thing. But Olivia knew her too well. She knew Sheila would find an excuse to back out. So, with a firm look and a serious tone, she replied, “Yes. It’s exactly what you need, besides, our bags are packed already. You said you wanted a man, is this how you plan to get one? By working yourself to death and staying indoors with your marketing reports?” And remember you'll be 30 in 24 months Sheila gave a dramatic sigh. “I never said I wanted a man. I said, maybe someday, if the right person comes…” Olivia winked. “Exactly. Someday might be today.” They’d been best friends since high school, inseparable since the first day they met. Their bond had only grown stronger through the years, strong enough that most people thought they were sisters. They shared secrets, dreams, tears, and now, even spare house keys. The trip had been Olivia’s idea. She knew Sheila needed a break, a real break. Not just a weekend buried in novels and spreadsheets. For months, they talked about going away, but Sheila kept postponing, buried in her demanding role as Head of Marketing at one of the top firms in the city. This time, Olivia didn’t give her the chance to back out. She booked their accommodation before telling Sheila, a cozy resort tucked away in a quiet town not far from the city. Somewhere tranquil, beautiful, and far away from office walls. By late afternoon, they arrived. Sheila stepped out of the cab, her eyes wide with quiet awe. The place was perfect. Peaceful. The kind of place that whispers to your soul, breathe again. “This place is… wow,” she said, pulling her suitcase behind her. “I know,” Olivia smirked. “You’re welcome.” That evening, after a short nap and an early dinner, they dressed casually to walk through the local neighborhood. The streets were calm, dotted with a few cafes and quiet shops. It wasn’t fancy, but it had everything she expected. “Let’s go to the pool, or hit the club, the choice is yours. You can take a quiet swim or dance the night away and unwind”, Olivia said to Sheila with a playful grind. After a brief pause, Sheila responded “ I’d love to go to the pool, definitely not the club, I'm not in the mood for loud music or crowds, I just want peace. But I didn't bring a bikini”. Olivia grinned mischievously. ” Don’t worry, I got you”, she said, reaching out to her box and pulling out a stunning bikini set. Sheila couldn’t help but smile. And somewhere in that night air, something shifted. Demian’s POV I had just wrapped up a long day of meetings. Boring boardroom men with fat egos. I needed something different, something real. I told Diego to book me somewhere quiet for the night. No big hotels. No press. Just peace. He delivered. A modest, charming resort with warm lighting and walls that didn’t echo with ambition. As I walked to my room, tie undone, jacket slung over my arm, I saw her. A woman with long, dark hair that cascaded down to her waist like a silk curtain. Her skin glowed in the dusk, her figure curving in all the places that made a man stop walking. She wasn’t trying to be noticed, but I noticed. She laughed at something her friend said, a sound soft and natural. Unrehearsed. She looked over her shoulder for a second, and our eyes met. Just for a moment. But it was enough. “Diego,” I said, not taking my eyes off her, “I want to know everything about that woman. Especially the kind of work she does.” “Yes, sir,” he replied with a nod, as always. She disappeared down the path, unaware that something had just begun. Back to Sheila The three days passed faster than either of them expected. Sheila felt different, lighter. Like something inside her had exhaled after holding its breath for far too long. She hadn’t flirted. She hadn’t planned on meeting anyone. But for some strange reason, she kept thinking about a stranger’s eyes she locked with briefly on their first evening. They’d never spoken. But she’d felt… seen. Back in the city, Monday came fast and loud. Sheila was back in her usual heels, carrying her laptop bag, hair tied in a sleek bun. Her work face was back on composed, professional, untouchable. But the office buzzed with unease. “The company’s been bought,” one colleague whispered. “Layoffs are coming.” “They say the new CEO is ruthless…” Her heart thudded. She walked straight to her department. Her assistant handed her a memo. Mandatory General Meeting All Department Heads. 10 A.M. Sheila wore a navy blue dress that hugged her curves perfectly, stopping just at her knees. The fabric clung to her like a second skin, as though it had been tailored just for her. Paired with a sleek set of heels, her long, toned legs carried her with effortless grace. As she walked down the corridor of the office building, conversations paused, and heads turned. Colleagues stole glances, some stared openly, mesmerized by her poise and confidence. Whispers trailed in her wake, quiet remarks about her beauty, her elegance, and how effortlessly she carried herself. “She walks like she owns the place,” someone muttered. “Whoever made her didn’t hold back,” another whispered with awe. But Sheila kept walking, her face calm, her eyes ahead, fully aware of the attention but unbothered by it. She wasn’t just a pretty face in a pretty dress. She was power, wrapped in silk and confident. Sheila adjusted her gown and walked into the conference room at 9:58. And then he turned around. The same man from the resort. Those grey eyes. That same electric presence. Only this time… he was her boss. Demian Sebastian. Billionaire. Private investor. Known in the industry as “The Silent Axe”, a man who took over companies, flipped power structures, and left no room for softness. Except when his eyes found hers, there was something unmistakably soft in the way he looked at her. The meeting was brief, numbers, strategy, projections. But Sheila barely heard a word. Her heart was pounding. Her mind is spinning. “Miss Sheila Lan,” Demian said, his voice calm but commanding, “I’d like a word. In my office.” She followed him, pulse racing. The door clicked shut behind her. She stood still. The air was thick. Charged. “You don’t need to worry about your job,” he said, his voice dropping low, like a whisper made for only her. She blinked, startled. “Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He walked closer, slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. “Because starting now,” he said, pausing just inches away from her, “your job… is me.” The silence wrapped around them like smoke. Sheila’s breath caught in her throat. And just like that, the takeover had begun.