CHAPTER 3 - The Terror Boss
1140 Words
The conference room became so quiet that even the hum of the air conditioner seemed defeaning.
Elena Ramirez wished the polished floor would slit open and swallow her whole.
Out of all the people in the city...
Out of all the taxis on a rainy Monday morning...
She had spent the last thirty minutes arguing with the owner of the company she had just joined.
Wonderful.
Simply wonderful.
The woman beside her whispered unde her breath.
"...Did the CEO just talk to you?"
Elena forced an awkward smile.
*I... think so."
"I've worked here as an intern for three months," another employee murmured, "and I've never heard him make a joke."
"That was a joke?"
"I... honestly don't know."
At the front of the room, Adrian Villareal closed the folder in his hands.
His expression had returned to the motionless mask everyone feared.
"If everyone is settled," he said, his deep voice calm and measured, "we'll begin."
No welcome smile.
No cheerful greeting.
No attempt to make the new employees feel comfortable.
Only business.
"Congratulations on joining Villareal Group."
He paused.
"Whether you remain here after your probation period depends entirely on your performance."
Several recruits straightened instinctively.
"I don not reward excuses."
His eyes swept across the room.
"I reward results."
The ari suddenly felt heavier.
"Our clients trust us because excellence is not an option."
"It is the minimum."
He walked slowly across the front of the room. "If you're looking for an easy workplace..."
He stopped.
"...you're in the wrong company."
No one dared breathe too loudly.
Even Elena, who had argued with him less than ten minutes earlier, had to admit one thing.
The man possessed an overwhelming presence. He wasn't loud.
He wasn't dramatic.
He simply had the kind of authority that made an entire room pay attention without raising his voice.
"Questions?"
Silence. No one moved.
Adrian nodded once. "As expected."
Then—
A hand slowly rose. Every head turned.
Elena blinked.
Her own hand.
"...Oh, no." She had reacted before thinking.
Adrian looked directly at her.
"Yes, Ms. Ramirez."
She wanted to disappear. Instead, she stood.
"I... um..." The room waited.
"So..." She cleared her throat.
"...Is it always this quiet during orientation?" Camille from Human Resources nearly dropped her tablet.
Several recruits stared at Elena as though she had volunteered for execution.
Adrian regarded her for a long moment.
"It usually is."
"I see."
"Anything else?"
She should sit down. She knew she should.
Instead—
"Do all CEOs scare new employees on purpose?"
Someone in the back coughed so hard they nearly choked.
Camille closed her eyes. She silently began praying for Elena's employment.
Adrian remained expressionless.
"Do I?"
"I think so."
"What gave you that impression?"
Elena gestured vaguely toward him.
"...Everything."
The room collectively held its breath.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Then—
"I'll take that under advisement."
He moved on as though nothing had happened. The tension broke instantly. Several employees blinked in disbelief.
Did...
Did the CEO just accept criticism?
Camille looked even more confused.
"I've worked with Mr. Villareal for five years," she whispered to another HR officer.
"I have absolutely no idea what's happening."
The orientation continued with company policies, department assignments, and introductions to various managers.
Finally came the employee handbook.
Camille lifted a thick navy-blue booklet.
"There is one policy we expect everyone to follow without exception." She opened it to a bookmarked page.
"Rule Number Seven."
Elena flipped through her own copy.
Her eyebrows knitted together.
Employees are strictly prohibited from bringing any object that displays time while inside company premises.
She looked up. "Excuse me."
Camille smiled politely. "Yes?"
"Is this... real?" Asked Elena.
"It is." Camille replied.
"No watches?"
"No."
"No wall clocks?"
"No."
"What about phones? I'm sure it's not prohibited right?"
"It is not. But they must remain on company mode while inside the building."
"What does that mean?"
"The clock display is automatically hidden."
A murmur spread across the room. One recruit frowned.
"But why?"
Camille's practiced smile didn't waver.
"It is company policy."
"That's not really an explanation."
"It is the only explanation we are authorized to provide."
Elena exchanged puzzled looks with the others.
How strange. She remembered something from the taxi.
The man—
No.
Mr. Villareal.
He started to check his phone.
Then stopped.
As if looking at the time was something he intentionally avoided. At the time, she hadn't thought much about it.
Now...
It felt oddly significant.
After orientation ended, employees were escorted to their respective departments. Elena had been assigned to the Corporate Planning Division on the thirty-second floor.
Her supervisor, Grace Santos, welcomed her warmly.
"You'll mostly prepare reports, organize presentations, and coordinate with executives."
"Sounds manageable."
Grace smiled.
"It is..."
Then she added, "...until the CEO asks for revisions."
The nearby employees laughed nervously. Grace lowered her voice.
"Word of advice."
"Yes?"
"Never submit incomplete work."
"I won't."
"Never arrive late."
"I'll try not to."
"And if Mr. Villareal asks a question..." Grace leaned closer. "...answer honestly."
Elena smiled.
"That doesn't sound too difficult."
Hearing this, Grace gave her a sympathetic look. "You'll understand."
By noon, Elena had finally settled into her desk. The office was elegant, quiet, and remarkably organized.
Everyone worked with impressive focus.
Almost...
Too much focus.
No one chatted.
No one wasted time.
No one even glanced around the room.
It was as if the entire floor moved to an invisible rhythm.
Her gaze wandered toward the walls.
Something felt...
Off.
She scanned the office once more.
Reception, meeting room, hallways. Nothing. Not a single clock. She looked at the desks.
No digital clocks.
No desk calendars displaying time.
Even the computers showed only the company logo in the corner where the clock should have been.
A chill ran down her spine.
This wasn't just a rule.
It was absolute. Someone had erased time itself from the building.
"Looking for something?"
Grace's voice startled her.
Elena laughed awkwardly.
"I was just wondering what time lunch is."
Grace smiled.
"You'll hear the chime."
"...The what?"
Almost on cue, a soft melody floated through hidden speakers across the office. Employees calmly stood.
One by one.
As though everyone instinctively knew what it meant.
"Lunch," Grace said. Elena looked around in amazement.
Nobody checked a watch.
Nobody looked at the phone.
Nobody asked the time.
They simply...
Knew.
As she followed her coworkers toward the cafeteria, she couldn't shake the strange feeling growing in the back of her mind. This company had many rules. Some were ordinary. Some were strict.
But one rule stood above all the others.
A rule no one questioned.
A rule no one dared explain.
And somewhere in the highest office of the building, the man she couldn't stand was the one who had created it.
For reasons she had yet to discover.
- Writer
