Chapter 2
1051 Words
Chapter 2
Keiran's Pov
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
I blinked up in shock.
A man towered over me, his grip still tight around my waist.
Dark hair, sharp jaw and furious blue eyes.
Beautiful was one word to describe him.
He was Dangerously beautiful.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he snapped.
I stared at him blankly, still too shaken to process what had almost happened.
The stranger cursed under his breath.
“Jesus Christ.”
His hands loosened slightly, though he didn’t let me go completely.
Only then did I realize how hard I was shaking.
“I...” My voice cracked. “I didn’t see the car.”
“Of course you don't have eyes..”
Normally, I would’ve been offended by his tone.
Right now, I just felt numb.
His expression shifted slightly as he looked down at me properly and noticed the tears.
Then his jaw tightened.
“A breakup isn’t worth a death wish,” he muttered and fresh humiliation and anger crashed over me instantly.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“And you nearly became roadkill two seconds ago, sweetheart. I know enough.”
I should’ve snapped back. Instead, tears burned my eyes again and the stranger noticed immediately.
His entire expression changed for half a second like he regretted being harsh.
Then it disappeared.
“Go home,” he said roughly.
I bent to grab my phone from the pavement with trembling hands.
When I looked back up, he was still watching me Intensely. Like he was trying to memorize my face.
Neither of us spoke again.
I turned and walked away before I could completely fall apart in front of a stranger.
---
Present Day in the Company…..
“Keiran, baby, don’t be like that.”
I closed my eyes slowly and counted to five then ten.
Unfortunately, when I opened them again, Davison Clarks was still standing in front of my office desk with that greasy smile on his face.
“I already told you no.”
“Oh, come on.” He loosened his tie dramatically. “You can’t blame a man for trying.”
“I absolutely can.”
His grin widened and God, I hated rich men.
I hated entitled rich men.
Which unfortunately made up ninety percent of my client base.
Richard leaned against my desk like we were flirting instead of moments away from me committing homicide.
“You know,” he said casually, “if you went out with me, maybe I’d reconsider pulling the campaign.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“You tanked your own project because I wouldn’t sleep with you?”
“Tank is a strong word.” he grinned and I shook my head.
“The sponsors dropped you and you know it..”
I wanted to throw my laptop at his face.
Three miserable months wasted trying to salvage the public image of a millionaire tech investor who spent more time touching my waist than following media strategy.
Now the campaign is dead.
My reputation had taken a hit and rent was due in five days.
Fantastic!
My phone buzzed suddenly across the desk.
CALEB.
Thank God, I answered immediately. “If you’re calling to tell me you committed murder, I can help bury the body.”
My younger brother laughed loudly through the speaker.
“There’s my favorite emotionally unstable sister.”
“Second favorite,” I corrected. “The cat ranks higher.”
“That’s Fair.” Richard was still standing there with a smirk.
“What do you want, Caleb?”
“I have a client for you.” Now that got my attention.
I straightened slightly. “I’m listening.”
“It's a big one sis.”
“How big?”
“NHL big.” My brows lifted instantly, now that was money.
Caleb lowered his voice dramatically. “One of my teammates is currently starring in the worst PR disaster of the year.”
I sighed. “What did he do?”
“You want the short version or the horrifying version?”
“The horrifying one.”
“He punched a paparazzi, got caught leaving a nightclub with two influencers during a charity event, and accidentally started a gambling rumor.”
I blinked.
“…How do you accidentally start a gambling rumor?”
“He may or may not have yelled ‘double or nothing’ while throwing cash at someone.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish.”
Despite myself, I laughed.
It felt strange after the disaster of the last few weeks.
Caleb softened slightly. “Look, Kay... he needs image rehab before transfer season starts. Sponsors are nervous. Management’s nervous. Everybody’s nervous.”
“And you thought of me?”
“You’re the best crisis manager I know.”
Emotion tightened unexpectedly in my throat.
Caleb always did that. He believed in me even when I didn’t.
I glanced at Davison, who was still hovering nearby like an STD.
Maybe this was exactly the break I needed.
“How bad is the player?”
He paused then laughed nervously.
“He’s kind of an asshole.”
“Caleb, be serious please.” I groaned nervously.
“But he listens to me sometimes!”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Please take the case sis, I love you.”
I hesitated only a second longer because I needed the money.
Badly.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Send me the file.”
“You’re saving my life.”
“No,” I corrected dryly. “I’m saving your i***t teammate’s career.”
We hung up moments later.
Richard finally straightened from my desk. “You’re really choosing work over me?”
“Yes,” I said immediately.
His smile faded. “I’ll call you when you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
He left anyway, finally giving me peace.
The second the office door shut behind him, my laptop pinged with a new email.
From Caleb.
I opened the attached file while reaching for my coffee.
Then I saw the name.
And froze.
Varek Ing.
The coffee slipped from my fingers, splashing across my desk.
Ing….that name.
My heartbeat slowed painfully.
- Writer
