Bane of the Elite

Chapter 7

The violent clang of my alarm clock on Monday morning felt less like a wake-up call and more like a cruel physical blow to my already frazzled senses. Monday meant work again. And work meant coming face-to-face with the man who had completely turned my quiet, miserable existence upside down.

Dark.

He had no idea—or perhaps he didn't care in the slightest—that I hadn't slept a proper, uninterrupted hour since Saturday night. After throwing those cryptic, furious accusations at me through the phone, he had abruptly cut the line without giving me a single second to defend myself, explain, or even breathe. Of course, my pride wasn't thick enough for me to call him back and demand answers like some unhinged lunatic. Instead, I spent the rest of the weekend playing the part of someone completely unbothered, pretending to the empty walls of my house that I didn't care. But inside? Inside, my mind was an absolute disaster area of swirling chaos, anxiety, and pure confusion.

What on earth is actually going on inside that maddening head of yours, Dark? I muttered to myself, rubbing my tired eyes as I tied my hair back into a neat, tight bun and slipped into my simple Sanvitores Company janitorial uniform.

My morning shift started off with a fresh dose of dread when I was summoned to the corporate HR department to submit my weekly logs and undergo a routine progress check. True to form, the notoriously strict and sharp-tongued HR supervisor wasted no time peering at me over her designer spectacles, firing off a rapid sequence of interrogative questions about whether my performance was up to standard, and whether I had been causing any unnecessary trouble or lingering around the executive floors where I didn't belong. I kept my head down, answering politely and truthfully that I was merely sticking to my assigned cleaning duties, biting my tongue until the interrogation finally ended and she waved me off dismissively.

By mid-afternoon, my schedule brought me up to the executive floor. The head secretary caught me right as I finished wiping down the hallway tables, giving me a quick briefing before handing me my supplies.

"Autumn, you can head straight inside the executive office to clean now.” Miss Eve said.

Without thinking twice, I nodded, grabbed my bucket and cleaning cloths, and walked straight toward the grand double doors of Dark's private office. In my haste, I completely forgot the golden rule of working in this intimidating corporate tower:

Always knock.

Without thinking twice, I nodded, grabbed my bucket and cleaning cloths, and walked straight toward the grand double doors of Dark's private office. In my haste, I completely forgot the golden rule of working in this intimidating corporate tower: Always knock.

The heavy mahogany door gave way far too easily under my push, swinging open with a soft, expensive click that was instantly swallowed by the plush carpeting of the room. I stepped across the threshold, a ready apology on my lips about needing to service the executive washroom first, but the words completely vanished from my throat, choking me into dead silence.

The scene unfolding before me felt like a physical blow straight to my chest.

There, perched precariously on the edge of the sprawling, dark oak executive desk, was a tangle of limbs and heavy breathing. Dark was standing right between her legs, his broad shoulders shielding most of her upper body, while his large, capable hands gripped her hips with a possessive, hungry urgency. The woman—her back turned directly toward the doorway—had her fingers tangled aggressively in Dark's thick, dark hair, pulling him down into a searing, breathless embrace.

They were so intensely locked in their passionate make-out session that the heavy sound of the door opening hadn't registered immediately. The woman wore a sleek, midnight-blue silk blouse that was hopelessly untucked, hitched up awkwardly around her waist, while her pencil skirt had ridden high up her thighs. Every movement of their bodies was soaked in a raw, heated intimacy that made the air in the private office feel instantly suffocating.

It wasn't until a sharp, wet gasp broke through the heavy silence that they finally froze.

Slowly, the movement died down. Dark's head lifted first, his cold, obsidian eyes shifting away from the woman's lips and locking instantly onto mine. There was no flash of panic in his gaze, no sudden rush of embarrassment, and not a single trace of guilt. Just that cold, unreadable, infuriating mask of absolute indifference. He merely stared at me, his jaw clenching slightly, as if an annoying housefly had just buzzed into his private sanctuary.

Beneath him, the woman gasped in absolute horror, her hands flying instantly to her disheveled hair and her crooked collar. She wrenched herself away from Dark, her face flushing a deep, burning crimson as she realized an ordinary janitress had just caught them red-handed in the middle of the executive suite. Her eyes darted between Dark and me, wide with panic and mortification, completely paralyzed by the exposure.

"I—I am so sorry! I didn't mean to—excuse me!" I choked out, my voice cracking horribly in the dead silence of the room.

My heart hammered frantically against my ribs like a trapped bird. Without waiting to see Dark's reaction or hear the woman's stammered excuses, I spun on my heel, grabbed the handle of my cleaning cart with trembling fingers, and practically bolted out of the office, slamming the heavy double doors shut behind me.

My breath came in ragged, shallow gasps as I hurried down the carpeted corridor, my mind spinning violently out of control.

Wait a second...

As I pushed my cart faster down the hallway, the pieces began clicking together with sickening clarity. That woman in the blue silk blouse—the one whose clothes were completely disheveled, whose lipstick was smeared across her cheek—was none other than Dark's secretary. The very same woman who sat right outside his door and managed his entire daily schedule.

They had a relationship? Those kinds of relations?

A heavy knot of disgust and confusion twisted sharply in my gut. If Dark was already casually hooking up with his own secretary right on top of his office desk during work hours, what on earth was the point of that unhinged, furious phone call on Saturday night? Why waste time screaming cryptic accusations at me, demanding answers to questions I didn't even understand, if he clearly had a willing, eager partner right here in the palm of his hand?

None of this makes any sense, I muttered internally, aggressively scrubbing my palms against my uniform pants as if I could wipe away the surreal image of what I had just witnessed. Just focus on your work, Autumn. It has nothing to do with you. He’s just your arrogant, impossible boss, and his personal life is a complete circus.

I forced my legs to move, trying to shake off the swirling daze that clouded my vision. But my mind was entirely somewhere else, floating miles away in a haze of lingering shock. I wasn't watching where I was going, my feet dragging heavily across the polished marble floor of the transitional corridor.

Bam!

My shoulder collided hard against someone coming around the corner, the sudden impact sending my cleaning bucket wobbling violently.

"Watch where you're going, you clumsy i***t!" a sharp, shrill voice snapped instantly, piercing the quiet of the hallway like broken glass.

I stumbled back, blinking rapidly as I tried to regain my balance. Standing right in front of me was a woman radiating pure, unadulterated hostility. She was dressed in a striking, form-fitting crimson dress that screamed designer labels, paired with a matching coat draped over her arms and an aggressively bright shade of red lipstick that outlined a permanently downturned pout. She looked the absolute definition of high-society toxicity—expensive, immaculate, and utterly venomous.

Right beside her stood Mayla, one of my fellow janitors, looking entirely stressed and out of place trying to play buffer between the angry fashionista and me.

The woman in the red dress let out an exaggerated sigh of utter disgust, dramatically lifting her manicured hands to inspect the shoulder of her expensive red dress where my uniform had brushed against her.

"Are you completely blind, or are you just naturally brainless?" she sneered, her voice dripping with venom as she lightly brushed off her fabric with two fingers, as if my very presence had contaminated her. "Look at this! Do you have any idea how much this designer piece costs? A month of your pathetic salary wouldn't even cover the dry cleaning, you absolute peasant. Do you not have eyes in that plain face of yours?"

Heat rushed to my cheeks, humiliation and frustration warring fiercely inside me. I gripped the handle of my cart tighter, keeping my gaze lowered out of sheer corporate survival instinct.

"I am so sorry, ma'am," I murmured, my voice tight and strained. "I didn't mean to bump into you. I wasn't looking at the—"

"Save your pathetic excuses," she cut me off sharply, rolling her eyes with deep theatrical disdain. She flicked her wrist dismissively in the air, turning her back on me as if even looking at me any longer would ruin her day. "Ugh, incompetent help these days. Come on, Mayla. I don't have time to waste breathing the same air as uncultured trash."

Without sparing me another glance, the woman in the red dress clicked her expensive heels against the marble floor, storming down the corridor with absolute authority.

I stood frozen for a second, my chest heaving with quiet indignation. Who on earth does she think she is, acting like she owns the entire building?

Before I could even process the encounter, Mayla hurried back over to me, her eyes wide with a mix of apology and suppressed excitement. She quickly patted my arm, her voice dropping to a hurried whisper.

​"Oh, Autumn! I am so, so sorry about that," Mayla blurted out anxiously, casting a nervous glance down the hallway. "I'll tell you all the juicy details later, I promise! I have to go or she'll chew my head off too!"

​Before I could even reply, Mayla spun around on her heel and scurried away as fast as she could, practically jogging to catch up with the furious woman in the red dress who was already turning the corner.

After that exhausting encounter, I forced myself to push through the remainder of my afternoon shift. I moved down to the lower corporate levels, tackling the endless rows of glass panels and marble flooring that needed polishing. With every sweep of my mop and every wipe of my rag, my muscles ached, but the physical tiredness was a welcome distraction from the chaotic theater playing out in my head. I focused entirely on the grime beneath my tools, scrubbing away the dust and trying desperately to lock away the image of Dark and his secretary behind thick mental walls.

It took hours of grueling physical labor before my shift finally drew to a close.

When I was finally finished, I unclasped my cleaning cart and hurried down the back corridors toward the janitorial staff room to clean up and finally catch a moment of rest. The room was quiet and blessedly dim, smelling faintly of bleach and floor wax. I dropped my supplies near the door and slumped onto the small wooden bench in the corner, exhaling a long, shuddering breath of pure exhaustion.

Before I could even untie my hair bun, the door creaked open, and Mayla stepped inside. Her face was lit up with an unmistakable, buzzing energy. She spotted me immediately and hurried over, sliding onto the bench right beside me with a wide, knowing grin plastered across her face.

"Hey," Mayla started, her voice dropping to an inquisitive, teasing lilt. She nudged my shoulder lightly. "Tell me honestly... what did you actually see inside Sir Dark’s office earlier?"

I stiffened instantly, my gaze darting away from hers toward the opposite wall. A cold wave of defensive instinct washed over me, and I quickly forced a blank, unbothered expression onto my face.

"See? What do you mean?" I replied, my voice overly casual as I kept my eyes stubbornly averted. "I just went in to clean, realized he wasn't there, and came right back out. I didn't see anything unusual."

Mayla narrowed her eyes slightly, a skeptical smirk playing on her lips. She clearly didn't buy my deflection for a single second, letting out a soft, disbelieving hum. Even though she looked like she wanted to dig deeper and cross-examine me about my clumsy excuse, she decided to let it slide for the moment, shaking her head before pivoting straight into the real reason she had rushed over to me.

"Alright, keep your secrets if you want," Mayla whispered, leaning in close as her eyes gleamed with absolute thrill. "But tell me... do you already know what just happened out there?"

I blinked at her, feigning absolute ignorance to match the persona of someone completely out of the loop. I raised a brow, keeping my tone carefully neutral. "Know what? What are you talking about, Mayla?"

Mayla gasped softly, her eyes widening in theatrical surprise. "Oh, wow. So you really have no clue? The entire floor is buzzing with it right now!"

"I've been busy scrubbing floors in the annex wing for the past two hours," I replied smoothly, hiding the turbulent storm raging beneath my skin. "I don't keep up with whatever drama is happening out there. What happened?"

Mayla leaned in even closer, her voice dropping to a breathless, conspiratorial whisper. "The secretary... she got fired."

I forced my eyes to widen in staged surprise, keeping my breath steady. "Fired? But... why? What happened to her?"

Mayla nodded eagerly, clearly thrilled to be the bearer of such massive corporate news. "Just like that, completely out of nowhere! Effective immediately. She’s completely gone." She paused for dramatic effect, checking the doorway before continuing. "Okay, so remember that angry woman in the red dress who yelled at you earlier?"

"The... the one who acted like she wanted to skin me alive?" I managed to ask, keeping my voice constrained.

"That's Addison," Mayla whispered triumphantly. "Sir Dark’s official girlfriend. She decided to drop by the executive floor unannounced to surprise her man with lunch. But instead of a sweet surprise, she ended up walking straight into Dark's private office..." Mayla paused again, lowering her voice to a near-silent hiss. "...and found his secretary in there. Completely disheveled. Her silk blouse was untucked, and her hair was an absolute mess."

Mayla shook her head, letting out an amazed whistle. "Addison lost her absolute mind. She started screaming bloody murder right there in the executive suite, demanding that the CEO's secretary be fired on the spot for crossing professional boundaries. And true to form, Dark didn't even blink—he just had HR march up there and hand the girl her termination letter before she could even fix her skirt."

What?

My mind screeched to a sudden, violent halt. Addison was Dark's girlfriend? Sir Dark has a girlfriend? But if he had a serious girlfriend—if he was supposedly committed to someone like that—then what on earth was he doing just an hour ago? Why was he passionately making out with his secretary, gripping her hips, and locking her against his executive desk with such raw, hungry intensity?

The puzzle pieces in my head crashed together, shattering into a million jagged, ugly fragments.

A playboy.

My boss, the notoriously cold, intimidating, and unreachable CEO Dark Sanvitores, wasn't just a difficult corporate tyrant. He was a player. A textbook, manipulative, lying playboy who juggled women right inside his own executive office while keeping a girlfriend tucked away in high-society circles, and apparently making midnight phone calls to innocent people just to play mind games.

A cold wave of bitter resentment washed over me, instantly replacing the lingering shock.

I slowly shook my head, letting out a sharp, cynical breath as I stared down at the concrete floor. A deep, burning disgust curled tightly inside my chest. I hated men like that—men who thought they could use people like toys, charming them with a gaze of his obsidian eyes only to betray, manipulate, and toss them aside when they got bored.