Chapter 2
1388 Words
It had been a week since Dianne started working at Fredrick’s company.
Seven days, yet it felt like she had been there for months.
Her mornings were now filled with endless typing, arranging files, answering calls, and preparing schedules.
Every time Fredrick barked an order from behind his glass door, she was ready. Quick and Effective.
And she was good—so good that even Fredrick, who trusted almost no one, began to notice. She had an eye for detail, a way of arranging things that made complicated tasks appear simple.
Once, when he was locked in a tough meeting, she had slipped a note onto his desk suggesting an angle he hadn’t considered. The suggestion had worked, and the deal had gone through.
Fredrick loved smart people. He never said it out loud, but Dianne could see it in the way his eyes lingered a moment longer on her whenever she handled a task without flaw. There was something about her, something he couldn’t place, and though he admired her quick thinking, his mind always worked in the shadows. Calculating, watching and waiting.
That morning, the office was filled with tension. A collaboration meeting had been scheduled with a foreign company, a big one, and the investors were already on their way.
Dianne hadn’t been informed until late. Her phone had lit up with Donald’s message just an hour before the meeting. Panic rushed through her veins as she scrambled to get things in order—arranging the conference room, stacking files neatly, preparing water, pens, and projectors.
Her fingers trembled as she flipped through thick folders, making sure everything was there. At least, she thought everything was.
By noon, the investors had arrived—sharp suits, shiny shoes, polished smiles. The conference room filled with murmurs as they settled in. Fredrick entered last, his presence silencing the room instantly. He moved like a man who owned not just the building but the air people breathed inside it.
“Let’s begin,” he said, sliding into his chair at the head of the long glass table.
Dianne stood by the side, clutching the folders like they were her lifeline. She handed them out one by one, her eyes darting nervously between the investors and Fredrick.
Fredrick flipped through his copy, his brow furrowing. He turned another page. Then another. His movements slowed. His jaw tightened.
The room went quiet.
His voice thundered across the table.
“Diannee!”
The investors flinched at the sudden outburst. Dianne’s knees almost buckled beneath her. Her throat dried instantly, but she forced words out.
“I-It’s there, sir. The agreement is there.”
Fredrick’s eyes burned into her. With one swift motion, he grabbed the folder and slammed it across the table. Papers scattered, sliding onto the floor like wounded birds.
“Does this look like the agreement to you?” His voice was like fire, sharp and dangerous.
Gasps echoed around the room. The investors exchanged looks, some leaning back, clearly uncomfortable.
Dianne’s chest heaved. This couldn’t be happening. She had checked everything. She was sure. She bent down quickly, knees hitting the polished floor, hands fumbling to gather the scattered documents.
Her fingers shook as she searched frantically. It has to be here… it has to.
Fredrick’s shadow loomed over her.
Without warning, his hand struck the back of her head. The sharp sting made her gasp.
The room froze. No one moved.
Before she could lift her head, he gave her a hot slap. The sound cracked through the air.
A heavy silence swallowed the room. The investors stared, wide-eyed, but none dared intervene. Fredrick’s reputation was enough to keep everyone rooted to their seats.
He pushed her aside with a single motion of his hand. “Useless.” His voice was cold, almost calm now. He turned and stormed out of the conference room, his footsteps echoing like gunshots.
Dianne stayed there, kneeling on the floor, cheeks burning with pain and shame. Her hands moved automatically, collecting the files, though her vision blurred with tears.
No one helped her. No one said a word.
She stood slowly, her body trembling, and forced herself to leave the room with whatever dignity she could muster.
Fredrick’s office door loomed ahead of her. She paused, inhaling sharply, before knocking softly and stepping inside.
He was there, standing behind his desk, his face hard as stone.
Dianne dropped to her knees, clutching the files to her chest. “Please, sir… I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. It won’t happen again, I swear. Please forgive me.”
Her voice cracked. Tears streamed freely down her face.
Fredrick’s jaw twitched, but his eyes were merciless. He pointed to the door.
“Get out.”
The words cut deeper than the slap.
Dianne’s shoulders sagged. She rose slowly, clutching her bag, and left without another word.
That night, lying in her small apartment, she replayed the moment again and again. The sting of his hand. The coldness of his eyes.
Is this who he really is? she thought. Is this why people fear him?
For days, she carried the shame like a scar, unable to look at him directly. Every time she heard his voice, her stomach clenched with fear.
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It was around 9 p.m. when her phone buzzed. A message lit up her screen.
From: Fredrick.
Her heart sank, panic rising again. She opened it with trembling hands.
Dinner tomorrow. Bring your son to meet my family.
Her breath caught in her throat.
A family dinner? With him? After everything? She didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. Maybe it was work-related. Maybe he wanted to extend the hand of peace. Or maybe… she didn’t even want to finish the thought.
Still, a part of her heart flickered with strange happiness.
The next evening, she dressed carefully, choosing a modest dress and combing Samuel’s hair until it sat neatly. The boy, curious as always, watched her face.
“Mommy,” he asked gently, “why do you look worried? Did something happen?”
Dianne forced a smile, smoothing his shirt collar. “No, Samuel. I’m fine.”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
By 8:50, they arrived at Fredrick’s estate. The gates towered like something out of a movie. Donald was already waiting outside, standing tall in his black suit. He opened the car door, his face unreadable.
“Good evening,” he said simply, gesturing them inside.
Dianne stepped out with Samuel, her hand gripping his tightly. Her heart raced as they approached the house.
Fredrick was already at the door.
It was strange that he never greeted anyone himself. Yet here he was, standing there with a smile that seemed too calm, too warm.
Her chest tightened. Was he really smiling… at her?
No. She shook the thought away quickly. He must be expecting someone important. Not me.
She lowered her head, avoiding his eyes as they reached the steps.
But Fredrick bent down instead, his sharp suit bending with him as he looked directly at Samuel.
“Welcome,” he said softly, smiling at the boy.
Samuel blinked, unsure, before giving a small, shy nod.
Fredrick straightened, his gaze now on Dianne.
“Welcome to my home,” he said, his tone calm, almost gentle. As if nothing had ever happened.
Dianne froze for a moment, then forced a smile. Maybe I’ve been overthinking, she told herself. Maybe he’s not always that cruel.
The house was massive, the kind that swallowed you whole with its beauty. Modern chandeliers glowed overhead, the marble floors shining beneath their feet.
Sylvia, Fredrick’s wife, appeared in the hall, elegant in a flowing dress. Their children, Fredo and Olivia, stood beside her, both older than Samuel and carrying themselves with quiet confidence.
“Good evening,” Dianne said politely, lowering her head slightly.
Sylvia smiled faintly, taking her coat. “Please, come in. Dinner will be served soon.”
They were ushered into the living room, the air thick with wealth and silence. Dianne sat with Samuel beside her, her heart still uneasy.
It felt like stepping into another world—one she didn’t belong to.
And though Fredrick was smiling now, Dianne couldn’t shake the thought lingering in the back of her mind.
What game is he really playing?
- Writer
