Chapter 2: INTRODUCING AN ELITE
1373 Words
(Same day, just had to break it down, honey__ Sabrina 🎀)
To everything under the sky, Sabrina believed there was a reason.
Why she had to hand-clean three desks today, however, was a mystery she hadn’t solved. The so-called Elites had a way of keeping everyone on their toes — painfully so. And Mrs. Hudson had been more unbearable since the news came in.
“Rina! Rina!”
The slightly bassy voice of Mrs. Hudson drew her attention to the front desk. Sabrina gave a small smile to Andrew, who returned it with a sympathetic look, as if to say I know what you’re going through.
“He’s here, go welcome him!” Mrs. Hudson’s tone was frantic. Sabrina could almost hear the woman’s heartbeat racing — her chest rising and falling as if she’d sprinted a mile.
Straightening her skirt, Sabrina smiled. It was a nervous habit.
The Rolls Royce looked familiar. She wasn’t entirely sure — until she saw the gold license plate: BEX.
Her smile widened. Nobody wanted to be on his bad side.
The door opened, and the first thing to touch the pavement was his polished Louboutin shoe. Then, in all his 6'4 glory, Sir Bexley emerged — black sunglasses shielding his eyes in the summer heat on Kairo Street. Every inch of him radiated power, and he knew it, he enjoyed it even
His hair was slicked back with precision, a few stray strands softening the perfection, although it seems like he ran his hand through them
“Good morning, Sir Bexley,” she greeted, her smile bright.
Rule number one: stay on their good side. Always.
She extended her hand for a shake. He slowly removed his glasses, glanced at her hand with something close to disgust, then replaced the emotionless mask.
Awkwardly, she lowered her hand. He tilted his head, one brow arching — and that’s when she realized, with horror, she had been staring.
That’s rude, Sabrina, she scolded herself.
“Right! Right this way Sir,” she said with another smile, trying to ease the tension. The only sign she knew followed behind her was the woody-spicy scent trailing after him — cinnamon and cedar, perhaps.
“Welcome to the Hudsons,” Mrs Hudson said, striding toward him. She tried to match his intimidating aura.
Tried being the key word.
He gave her only a sideways glance before Sabrina stepped in.
“Let me show you to the admin room, Sir.”
She walked briskly, weaving through the vast office. Her feet would ache later, but this was no time to slow down. She aimed to impress not just him but her boss
“The major designs for our out-of-the-city projects — like the Ferris Wheel and the NassicMan — are done on the third floor by professionals. Trainees work on the first floor, just past admin hallway, our cafeteria is on the second floor...” She paused to catch her breath, hoping she still sounded professional. “I’ll also show you the break room and display area, but if you’d like to—”
“What is your name?”
He didn’t ask. He demanded.
She swallowed. She’d been talking this whole time without even introducing herself.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, bowing quickly. He arched a brow at the gesture, confusion flashing briefly before disappearing.
"So forgetful of me" she muttered under her breath
“My name is Sabrina Maeve,” she continued, offering her hand again. He ignored it a second time.
“Show me to my office.” His voice was calm — not cold, not sharp — just calm. That made it harder to read. Deep, smooth, and resonant, it sent goosebumps up her arms. She could have listened to him all day.
His gaze remained calculative like he wanted to read every single emotion on her face. Rumors had it that he can smell fear
“Y-yes, sir,” she stammered, bowing again. She really needed to stop doing that.
“We’ll take the elevator,” she informed him.
She pressed the button for the fourth floor. Her back to his front but they weren't even close. Though the elevator was spacious, his presence seemed to close in on her. That scent again — dangerously intoxicating. She took shallow breaths, not wanting to get lost in it.
When the doors opened, she walked out a bit too quickly. He followed effortlessly, long strides keeping pace.
“In here, Sir,” she said, pointing at a door without stepping inside.
“Come in.” His voice was low, almost a whisper.
Inside, Mrs. Hudson was already waiting.
“The Hudsons,” he greeted, swiping a finger over the desk and chair to check for dust.
“Ever heard of the Berlins?”
“Yes, we have. In fact—”
“Your work is pirated, Mrs. Hudson. You know that.”
Mrs. Hudson’s throat bobbed. “Not entirely, you see—”
Well you see the thing with the woman she wanted perfection, bit wouldn't take a new idea, no, she'd rather another work and claim it
“Where are your original works?”
“I thought you’d never ask. Sabrina!” she called, keeping her eyes locked on the Elite.
“Yes, ma’am.” Sabrina almost smiled — she’d been waiting for this.
It took a minute and a half to retrieve the designs; the Elite room computers hadn’t yet been activated.
Bexley barely glanced at them before returning his gaze to the Hudsons. Sabrina noted how eerily quiet Mr. Hudson was — as if under orders to stay silent. Bexley seemed to notice, his calculative gaze always ready to fish something out
“The designs are simple. Predictable. Boring,” he said. “Also, parts were inspired by the Berlins, Right Hudson?"
Mrs. Hudson’s jaw tightened. She loathed the Berlins — their company always ranked first, keeping hers at second place. She needed an Elite’s backing to rise above them.
“You don’t deserve second best,” he muttered, flipping through the designs again. His head shook in disapproval.
“I can’t support this company, Hudson.”
He had dropped the Mrs. — a calculated insult. Among Elites, titles were a sign of respect, and Mrs. Hudson had just lost hers.
“Anything to say, Male Hudson?”
Mr. Hudson stiffened, hoping to go unnoticed. His ears turned red.
“Uh… we’ll do better, Sir Bexley. We’ll put in our best — just don’t give up on us yet.” He looked to his wife for approval, but she didn’t glance his way. Her grip on her designer bag was so tight it might leave dents.
Bexley seemed amused, an almost-invisible smirk curling his lips as he rubbed his chin.
“As you should,” he said at last, locking eyes with Mrs. Hudson and then to Sabrina.
His eyes stayed on her more than two seconds and back around the room
“Until then… good luck being third best.”
He stood to his full height, unbothered by the tension in the room.
Then he left — walking out as if the very décor offended him. Honestly, with all the bright colors Mrs. Hudson insisted on, it probably did.
The tension he left after was thick, bothersome.
"Just Go" Mrs Hudson spoke, she looked out of it. Her company was not only rejected but it was moved to third very quickly
Mr Hudson gave a small nod and the understood the situation.
Sabrina stepped out going straight to the elevator with her shaky legs. When the elevator opened with a ding the whole staff of the company stood waiting with expectant eyes.
"What did he say?" Was Andrew's excited question. Sabrina let out a defeated sigh
"Girl.." Bren voice echoed
"I see" Another employee, Natasha chipped
"We weren't promoted. We lost even. Third place for plagiarism and an extra insult to deliver the blow" Sabrina was dramatic about it
"I just knew it" Mrs Amara the black woman added with her high pitched voice and everyone turned to her.
And honestly she wasn't apologetic. With a sigh everyone dispersed without another word.
That was how the day went on, slow, boring and quiet
- Writer
