No Questions
765 Words
Ch-4
The Loyalty Trial
The next morning, the intern arrived early. Too early. She sat in the lobby outside his office, clutching her notes, ignoring the curious stares of secretaries who whispered behind their screens.
Nine o’clock came. His door opened.
“Inside,” Jhonshon ordered.
She obeyed, her heels clicking against marble. He didn’t look up from the contract in his hand. His tone was calm, but sharp enough to cut.
“Today, you’ll prove what you claimed. Loyalty.”
She swallowed. “How?”
He finally lifted his gaze, dark eyes unreadable. “By bleeding for me.”
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Scene Two – The Setup
By mid-morning, they were in the war room: glass walls, a long table, and a dozen department heads waiting for blood.
Jhonshon sat at the head, predator at the throne. The intern stood behind him, silent shadow.
A rival executive, sharp-suited and silver-tongued, leaned forward. “Johnson, your intern seems… ambitious. Too ambitious. Careful she doesn’t slip.”
The jab was bait. Jhonshon took it, not with anger, but with precision. He turned his head slightly, gaze cutting to her.
“Step forward.”
She did, every eye in the room burning into her.
“You heard him,” Jhonshon said, voice low, cold. “Convince this table that your loyalty belongs to me. Not to them. Not to anyone else.”
Her throat tightened. This is the test.
The rival smirked, folding his hands. “Well? Loyalty is easy to claim, hard to prove.”
The intern’s chest rose and fell. She met Jhonshon’s gaze, searching for an answer. He gave her none. Only that ruthless silence that demanded she decide.
Finally, she spoke. “You think I’d betray him? I wouldn’t dare. Because betrayal is suicide. He doesn’t forgive. He doesn’t forget. And if you think you can lure me away, you don’t understand the man you’re dealing with.”
The rival’s smirk faded. A ripple of unease moved through the room.
Jhonshon leaned back, lips curling in the faintest smirk. He didn’t applaud, didn’t praise. He simply cut the silence with a verdict: “Well said. Now get out.”
Confused, she blinked. “Sir?”
“Not you. Him.” Jhonshon’s gaze locked on the rival. “You’re dismissed.”
The man stiffened. “You can’t—”
“I can. And I just did.”
Security moved in. Within moments, the rival was gone. The message was clear: challenge Jhonshon, lose everything.
The room fell into obedient silence.
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Scene Three – The Aftermath
Back in his office, the intern stood before him, still trembling from adrenaline.
“You used me,” she whispered.
Jhonshon poured himself a drink, swirling the glass. “Of course I did. That’s what loyalty is for. Tools. Weapons. Shields.” He set the glass down, fixing her with a stare. “And you performed well.”
Her chest tightened. “Then I passed?”
“Not yet.” He approached, slow and deliberate, until her back pressed the wall. His hand braced beside her head, his body close but not touching.
“Loyalty isn’t words in a boardroom. It’s sacrifice. It’s knowing that when I say jump, you don’t ask how high—you leap, without hesitation.” His eyes burned into hers. “Are you ready for that?”
Her breath trembled. “Yes.”
“Then prove it.”
He stepped back, tossing a sealed folder onto her hands. “Confidential. You’ll deliver this to Victoria tonight. No copies. No questions. If it leaks, I’ll know it was you.”
She stared at the folder like it was a live wire. “What’s inside?”
“You don’t get to ask.”
His voice dropped lower, dangerous. “This is the moment. You either carry it, or you don’t walk back through my doors tomorrow. Choice is yours.”
She clutched the folder to her chest, eyes burning with fear—and something darker.
“I’ll deliver it,” she said.
Jhonshon smirked, satisfied. “Good. Now go.”
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Scene 4 – Alone Again
The door closed behind her. Jhonshon stood at the window, drink in hand, watching the city devour itself below.
She had no idea what she was carrying. She had no idea if it was real or a trap. That was the point.
And if she delivered it… if she obeyed without question…
Then she’d be his.
Not just body. Not just loyalty. Entirely.
For the first time, Jhonshon felt the stir of something deeper than conquest—something dangerous.
Anticipation.
....
- Writer
