Ch.15
1050 Words
Althea’s Pov
I was jolted awake by the sound of my phone ringing. Like a zombie, I sat up in bed and glanced at the wall clock. It read one o'clock in the morning. I let out a groan.
Who could it be? I had just gotten home a few hours earlier and barely managed to catch a beauty nap.
I grabbed my phone from the bedside table, struggling to open my eyes. My brain felt sluggish, as if cobwebs were tangled everywhere.
"Hello," I mumbled sleepily.
"I need you to come to my house, now," Mr. Valenti snapped, his voice ringing in my ears. Then he hung up.
I flopped onto the bed, my back hitting the mattress. I lay still for five minutes, simply gazing at the ceiling.
"Who’s that?" Ella inquired as she noticed me wide awake.
"My boss."
Twenty minutes later, I found myself sprinting towards the bus stop. At precisely two o’clock, Mr. Valenti and I were exchanging different ideas regarding Mr. Thompson’s project in the dining hall. I couldn’t help but wonder why this couldn’t wait until morning.
I drew a range of clothing styles for him to review, but he merely took the sketches and nodded without making eye contact. He was completely absorbed in his work, his gaze locked onto his laptop screen.
The next day was even more challenging. Mr. Valenti called me at ten in the evening, sending me rushing to the bus stop once more. I was out of breath by the time I reached the penthouse at eleven o’clock.
That night, I found myself in the penthouse. I longed to be in one of those opulent bedrooms, yet I was resting in the dining hall. My head rested atop the table.
I was lost in a dream… of a man hovering above me. His face was just inches from mine, his eyes brimming with desire and primal hunger, undressing me slowly with his gaze.
Abruptly, my eyes flew open, and there he was—the man from my dream, looming over me, his eyes filled with fierce anger.
"How many illustrations have you completed before you decided to sleep?" Mr. Valenti said sharply.
I handed him the ten sketches, and he grabbed them, storming away in a fit of rage.
By the third night, a headache plagued me from the lack of sleep over three consecutive nights. I attempted to catch some rest during the day, but it proved to be a challenge.
He called again at ten in the evening, the same time as before. I couldn’t run any faster to the bus stop; my head was pounding. As I anticipated, I missed the ten-fifteen bus, so I waited for the next one for fifteen minutes.
The bus I boarded was moving slowly.
I arrived at eleven-thirty and began sketching a few illustrations. In my rush, I didn’t sketch them very well.
"You’re late," he snapped as soon as I stepped into his study. His gaze lifted from the laptop and shot daggers at me.
I froze. My head began to throb again, and my heart raced with fear.
"I... I missed the ten o'clock bus, sir," I stammered, placing the drawings on his desk.
He examined the sketches for a few moments—one... two... three...—before his expression darkened, and he glared at me with a dangerous intensity.
He grabbed the stack of papers and slammed it onto the desk. "These are the worst drawings I've ever seen," he said, his lips curling in disgust.
A chilling shiver ran down my spine, as if I had been doused with icy water.
Worst drawings? He didn’t like my illustrations?
"I’m sorry, sir, but I haven’t had enough..." I started to say, but I couldn’t finish my thought as my focus began to wane and my legs weakened, plunging me into darkness.
"You shouldn't have pushed her too hard."
"That's not my concern."
"Eros."
"She has legs for a reason; if she can't cope, she can simply walk away... no one is making her stay."
Soft murmurs surrounded me as I regained awareness. "Where am I?"
"Where do you think you are?" Mr. Valenti responded, completely disregarding my inquiry.
As I scanned my surroundings, I came to the realization that I was not in a hospital but rather in a bedroom. A lavish one, to be exact, with an IV drip attached to my wrist. That was the only medical apparatus present in the room.
"Not at the hospital."
"No kidding, way to point out the obvious." He rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, if you're curious, the doctor mentioned that you were simply overworked and need to take a break."
"Who wouldn't feel overworked with the kind of pressure I get from you?" I shot back. "This is all your fault."
"My fault? You're incredibly foolish. So weak that you can't handle a few tough nights of work."
I felt an urge to scream at him, to curse him to hell where he truly belonged. I wished I had the magical ability to transform him into a mouse.
"You know what!" I stood up from the bed. My headache was still unbearable, and my head throbbed with pain. "I quit!"
"What?" He snapped at me once more.
"I’m done. I can’t stand working alongside you, Mr. Valenti. I’m unsure what I did to get this abrupt shift in your behavior towards me, but I have emotions and I’m a human being, just like you. You’re treating me like I’m slave."
"Be quiet! Don’t you even think about lecturing me, woman. If you want to leave, then go ahead. I don’t require your ridiculous assistance with Mr. Thompson’s project, and I never want to see you again. Leave! Immediately!"
Eros Pov
Damn, damn, dammit! What have I done?
Perhaps this is a good idea after all. It would prevent me from constantly thinking about her. She wasn't my type; I was out of her league.
I was crazy to invite her to my penthouse every night. The reality was, I simply wanted to see her. I couldn't explain what had taken over me. She was always on my mind.
This needed to end. Everything about her had to cease.
I don’t require someone like her in my life.
- Writer
