Chapter 3: Deadly accusations
1244 Words
The room fell silent after Nelson’s cold, clipped announcement ending the morning briefing. The staff began packing their files, whispering about budgets and upcoming campaigns. Sonia tried to keep her breathing steady, clutching her notebook to her chest like a shield.
She needed to leave.
Immediately.
She took one step toward the door—
“Everyone out,” Nelson’s voice cut through the room. Sharp. Icy.
Every head turned.
Mr. James blinked. “Sir? I thought we still had—”
“I said out.”
The tone left no room for argument. The team scrambled. Even Mr. James swallowed his confusion and ushered everyone out.
Everyone except Sonia.
She froze, staring at the open door as the last staff member slipped out. The click of the closing door echoed through the boardroom like a warning.
Her heart hammered.
Nelson stood across the long table, hands in his pockets, jaw ticking, eyes narrowed like she was a problem he wanted to dissect. Or crush.
“Come here,” he said.
Her breath hitched. “I don’t think—”
“Did I ask for your opinion?” His voice was low. Controlled. Dangerous.
Sonia swallowed hard and stepped closer, heels tapping against the polished floor until she stood on the other side of the table from him.
He didn’t move.
She did.
One more step.
Two.
Suddenly, without warning, Nelson reached across the table and grabbed her wrist. Sonia gasped as he pulled her around the table in one swift motion and slammed her gently,but firmly against the wall.
Her notebook fell with a soft thud.
“W—what are you doing?” she whispered, breath trembling.
He leaned in,not touching her, but close enough that she felt the heat radiating off him. His eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her chest tighten.
“I should be asking you that,” he said quietly. “Why are you here?”
“I work here,” she managed.
He laughed softly. The sound was almost mocking. “Of course. Perfect timing, right? Sleep with me Saturday night, show up as my new staff Monday morning.”
Her jaw dropped. “That’s not what happened!”
He ignored her. His fingers slid up her arm to her shoulder, pinning her securely against the wall without hurting her. Just immobilizing her.
“Tell me, Miss Branson…” His voice dropped lower, darker. “Was the session in the hotel room not enough? You want another one? Right here? In my office?”
Her breath caught. “Stop this.”
“Why?” He tilted his head slightly, eyes dropping to her lips. “You didn’t tell me to stop that night.”
The humiliation burned through her belly like fire. “I didn’t know what I was doing! I was drunk and lost and—”
“And what?” he cut in, leaning closer. “You expect me to believe you had no idea who I was?”
“I didn’t!” she snapped.
“Liar.” His body edged closer. Not touching. But close enough that she felt trapped. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”
Sonia’s hands balled into fists. “Let go of me.”
Nelson smirked, lifting one eyebrow. “Or what?”
She didn’t think.
She reacted.
Her hand swung upward, aiming for his cheek—
He caught her wrist effortlessly, pressing it back against the wall above her head.
“You’re going to hit me now?” he murmured, voice dangerously soft. “Interesting.”
“Let go.”
“No.”
“Nelson!” she snapped.
“It's Mr Trump.” He reminded her.
Something flickered in his eyes at the sound of his name. Something he shut down immediately.
His gaze dropped to her mouth again.
And before she realized it—
His lips were on hers.
Hard.
Angry.
Possessive.
The kiss stole her breath, her balance, her thoughts. She gasped, and he deepened it instantly, one hand pinning hers above her head while the other slid to her waist.
She felt the heat of him, the strength, the intensity. His chest pressed near hers, barely touching, but enough to send electricity shooting through her.
Her mind screamed to stop.
Her body didn’t listen.
For a second,one stupid second,she kissed him back.
And then reality hit her like ice.
She shoved him.
Hard.
Nelson stepped back, breath harsh, eyes blazing.
“Don’t ever touch me again,” Sonia said, voice shaking with anger.
He wiped his mouth slowly, eyes never leaving her. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
His jaw clenched. He looked almost offended. Or… confused. He masked it quickly.
“You’re here to work,” he said finally, straightening his tie. “Nothing more. Nothing less.”
She glared. “That’s exactly what I want.”
“Good.” His expression hardened. “Then get to work.”
He turned away from her like she was nothing more than a minor disturbance in his day.
Sonia bent down, grabbed her notebook with trembling fingers, and walked out of the room without another word.
She didn’t breathe until she reached the hallway.
The meeting that afternoon was torture.
The senior managers gathered around the long table for their marketing strategy presentation. Sonia sat near the front, folder open, heart pounding. The last thing she wanted was another confrontation.
But Nelson didn’t even try to hide it.
From the moment she began presenting her ideas, he interrupted.
“No.”
“That’s unrealistic.”
“Try again.”
“Next.”
He challenged everything,her statistics, her tone, her visuals, her reasoning. Even when the other managers nodded in agreement, he shot her down with cold, precise criticism.
At one point, Mr. James whispered, “Ignore him. He’s never this hostile.”
She didn’t need to be told who the hostility was directed at.
Sonia clenched her pen so tight her fingers hurt.
Nelson leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching her with the same mix of disdain and… something else. Something she refused to acknowledge.
When she finished her final point, breathing hard, Nelson didn’t clap like the others.
He simply said, “Meeting dismissed.”
And walked out.
Just walked out.
Sonia sat frozen, humiliation burning through her.
When work ended, she rushed out of the building, heels clacking against the polished marble. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow across the parking lot.
She tightened her bag over her shoulder and walked to the gate.
June was borrowing her car. Sonia didn’t mind,she could catch a cab.
But apparently, the universe wanted one more round of humiliation.
A sleek black Lamborghini slowed beside her.
Her heart jumped.
Nelson.
The window rolled down.
He stared at her silently. Expression unreadable.
“Do you need a ride?” he asked, voice flat.
Sonia blinked. “No.”
He didn’t drive off.
She rolled her eyes and turned away. “I said no. I don’t need help from a man who—”
The engine roared.
She jumped back slightly as the car jerked forward.
Nelson’s expression hardened.
Then,without waiting for another word—he drove off so fast her hair blew around her face.
Sonia stood there, chest rising and falling, fists clenched.
“Jerk,” she whispered.
But deep down, beneath all the anger…
She felt something far more dangerous.
Something she didn’t want to acknowledge.
- Writer
