Chapter Two: A Test of Endurance
957 Words
She picked up the call. “Hello, good evening Mr. Desmond,” her voice echoed softly through the line.
“Stop acting like you’re some decent and well-mannered staff, dear. I need you to carry out an important task for me tomorrow,” Mr. Desmond responded arrogantly from the other end.
Not shaken by his words, she replied calmly, “So what will your indecent, ill-mannered staff be doing for you tomorrow, sir?”
Quite surprised within himself but choosing not to comment, he simply said, “Make sure you report to my office first thing when you arrive at work. And you better not be late.” His tone was sharp—strictness seeping through every word.
“O...kay,” she began to respond, but a loud beep cut her off. He had ended the call without waiting for her reply.
Annoyed, she clenched her jaw. Being reminded again that he was her boss, and that she couldn’t speak freely without risking her job, made her feel powerless and stifled.
Meanwhile, Desmond lounged in one of his favorite chairs, still pondering her demeanor. Why is she always so unshaken? So bold? He couldn’t help but be intrigued. They had just met earlier that day, but she acted like she already knew him—and wasn’t intimidated by his presence.
It irritated him. But more than that, it fascinated him.
He leaned forward. If firing her would end the game, maybe pushing her would make it more interesting, he thought with a mischievous smirk. After all, he was the boss. He could do whatever he pleased.
---
It was Tuesday morning. Staff members were already trickling into their offices and resuming their duties.
Tiffany arrived and quickly went to drop off her bag before heading to Desmond’s office. As soon as she stepped through the door, before she could greet him, his voice thundered:
“And why the hell are you just coming now?”
A bit rattled, her bright morning mood dimmed instantly.
“But sir…” she began to explain, but Desmond cut her off.
“Take these documents. Handle them properly. Without wasting time, take them to our business partners in the next city. That’s our deal for the upcoming project. And when you’re done, get the hell back here and finish your work,” he barked, his voice void of empathy, like he was speaking to a servant, not a staff member.
Tiffany was stunned. She hadn't even been allowed to explain herself, and now this?
“But sir, that’s not part of my job. There are designated personnel for duties like this. And the city you’re sending me to is a 2–3 hour journey one-way. That’s more than six hours of travel. How am I supposed to do that, return, and still complete my regular work?” she explained, trying to reason with him.
Desmond, now reclining in his luxurious chair, listened with a blank expression, as if he might reconsider.
Then he chuckled.
“The last time I checked, I’m still the boss of this company. That means I have the authority to assign duties as I see fit,” he said smugly. “If you’re uncomfortable with my orders, you’re free to quit.”
His words pierced her like daggers.
“But as long as you choose to keep working here, you’ll do exactly what I say,” he added, his eyes already back on his laptop, dismissing her existence.
Tiffany’s rage bubbled inside her, threatening to explode—but she held it in. She knew there was a limit to what she could risk.
Clutching the documents, she turned and stormed out of his office.
Desmond watched her leave with a crooked smile. “This is just the beginning, dear,” he whispered to himself.
---
Tiffany approached one of the company cars, hoping to use it for the long trip. She reached out to take the keys from where the drivers usually kept them.
But the driver stopped her.
“Ma’am, the boss said I should let you know that you’re to use public transportation today,” he said hesitantly.
She froze, stunned. Anger surged through her like fire. He really planned this, she thought. Every part of it.
She wanted to storm back upstairs and give him a piece of her mind, but she took a deep breath, pulling herself together. This is still a professional duty, she reminded herself.
“Well… I have no choice,” she muttered bitterly and walked away to carry out the task.
---
By the time she was returning from the trip, evening had fallen. Office hours were over. She had been delayed by traffic, and now she was exhausted and drained.
Collapsing onto her bed, she drifted off almost immediately. But her rest didn’t last long. Her phone buzzed loudly, dragging her out of deep sleep.
Grumbling, she pushed it aside and rolled over. But the phone rang again.
Why is someone calling me this late? she thought, irritated. She glanced at the screen—and froze.
Mr. Desmond.
Realizing she hadn’t reported back to him yet, she hesitated. But she had to answer.
It was 11:30 p.m.
She picked up. “Hello, sir,” she said groggily.
“I waited all evening for your report on the assignment I gave you,” Desmond said flatly. “Why haven’t you reached out?”
“I'm so sorry, sir. I was completely exhausted and forgot to call. My apologies,” she said while yawning and stretching on her bed.
She was trying to ease back into comfort when Desmond, with a voice colder than ever, delivered the most cutting and outrageous words she had ever heard in her life...
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