Chapter 7: "Curiosity has consequences."
1410 Words
The elevator door slid open, and a rush of cold, conditioned air welcomed me, clinging to my skin like frost.
Ever since I found those words written in my diary, my heart hadn't stopped racing. And it only worsened the moment I stepped into Starlak.
The receptionist gazed at me and quickly looked away—her expression said it all. I was done for. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I walked into the elevator.
The metallic hum from the elevator was louder than my breathing. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrored surface: hair a mess, dark circles under my eyes from another sleepless night, and my lips pale.
What would he do to me? Would today be my last in Starlak?
Ding!
I snapped back to reality.
For a second, I wished I could be stuck in the elevator, sparing me from seeing him—Marcus.
The door opened, and the once–busy office—once filled with the sound of fingers against keyboards, slamming files and the hum of printed papers—was now as still as a crime scene.
All of that was replaced by eyes fixed on me.
I walked towards my desk with my weary legs. My hands became moist trying to avoid eye contact.
But as I drew closer to my desk someone was on it. The seat faced the glass wall. I went closer, and just then the person twirled it around.
It was him.
Marcus.
My stomach turned inside out. He stood up and leaned back on the desk with his hands in his pockets. His stare was calm—the kind that felt like a hurricane.
“Good morning, Miss Wellington. You finally decided to join us.”
“Sir, I–”
“Don't. I wonder why the board hired someone as low as you for this job.” His voice began to rise.
I bowed my head in shame. Every word he spoke made my body fidget and I wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
“Yesterday I warned you. I despise mistakes.” He took a step further and gripped my chin. “You were late yesterday. Today you stroll in like the rules don't apply to you. Do you think this is a playgro—”
“Won't you let me explain?” Something inside me snapped—maybe exhaustion, maybe the little self-respect I had left but, I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. I cut him off and pushed his hand off my chin.
The employees around gasped softly in disbelief. “Did she just speak back?” One of the employees muttered. I returned my gaze back to Marcus, but I was met with those dreadful eyes.
My throat dried. I clenched my bag and sent my face down once again. “I—I overslept. It won't—”
“Enough!”
The sound of his voice sliced through my apology. I shivered and began to pant heavily.
“My office. Now!”
All eyes followed my every footstep till I got into Marcus's office.
Marcus went behind his desk, and he paced forth and back before he looked up again.
“Who do you think you are?”
“Sir, I—”
“Spare me, Miss Wellington. Do you know how many people would kill for your position? Do you know?” He came closer and held me by my arm, squeezing so tightly.
My lips parted but I didn't utter a word.
I looked into his eyes and all I saw was rage. The same rage my father had for me. He let go of me and went swiftly behind his desk.
My breath was louder. I held my arms—the same spot Marcus gripped tightly, leaving it sore.
“You like giving excuses right?” He slammed two files on the desk—thick and heavy. “I give you until the end of today to finish this work. If not…pack your belongings and never show your face here ever again.”
I grabbed the files with shaky hands. “Sir, this could take two days to complete.”
“Get Out!”
I turned quickly and stormed out of his office before my courage failed me.
When I returned to my desk, the room was buzzing with work but lighter—whispers, glances, murmurs that died whenever I looked up. “She will soon be gone,” another whispered. I sank into my seat, my face buried.
“Don't take it too personally, Ama. He is intense.” The senior secretary leaned by my desk with her arms crossed.
I raised my head and forced a thin smile. “Intense? Is that what you would use to describe him? Just that?”
She scoffed. “Ama, I'm the longest that has worked with Mr Marcus, I know what I'm saying.”
“Longest? What do you mean?”
She hesitated, then sighed.
“Mr Marcus has changed secretaries seven times in three months. The highest they work is for one and a half weeks. But I've worked with Mr Marcus for nine months now.”
“Seven?” I screamed but she held my mouth and gestured that I should calm down.
“Do you know why he always fires them?” I whispered.
“That… I don't know. I just came to give you some advice. Be careful. Do your job well and obey him if you really want this job. Okay?” She said and left.
Seven secretaries? 3 months?
I sighed. I couldn't afford to lose this job. Her words kept lingering in my mind. “Obey him.” I sat upright ready to start up with the file.
***
Night came, and the office began to feel empty. Everyone had packed up and said their goodbye for the day, but I remained in my seat—eyes locked from my laptop to the file.
“Done,” I said to myself.
My fingers ached from typing and my head felt heavy. I gathered the completed document and made my way to Marcus's office.
I knocked but no response.
I pushed open the door.
He wasn't there.
I hesitated at the doorway before stepping in, setting the file neatly on his table.
I turned to leave, then I saw it.
A picture frame lying face down, its edges were darkened. I frowned and turned it over.
It was a picture of Marcus. He was younger, smiling happily—I had never seen him smile like that. He stood between two adults, a man and a woman who shared the same eyes as Marcus. His parents, maybe. But there was something about this picture.
“Looking for something, Miss Wellington?”
My chest lurched together. The voice came from the doorway.
It was Marcus.
His gaze flickered from the frame in my hands to my face. For a moment, something flashed in his eyes—something painful, but it vanished immediately.
“I-I uh, came to drop the file, sir.” I quickly dropped the frame back on his desk.
He took a step closer. His voice was steady, every walk was calculated.
“You have a habit of touching things, Miss Wellington.”
“I didn't mean to.”
“Next time,” he interrupted, “Keep your curiosity to yourself.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. My pulse tightened. He watched me for a long moment before talking again.
“You should be more careful, Miss Wellington. Curiosity has consequences.”
He brushed past me and went to his seat. I stood still in confusion. What is he talking about?
“You're dismissed.” He replied.
I swallowed hard, turned backwards and went straight for the door. But just before I could reach for the handle, his voice stopped me.
“Tell me…” His voice was quieter. “Did you sleep well last night? You look stressed.” A faint smirk appeared at his lips as he turned his chair towards me.
I rushed out of his office with my pulse racing. The glass wall reflected my pale face.
Why would Marcus ask me such? Did I sleep well? Does he know about my diary? The burnt picture?
I reached out for my bag, ready to leave. I stared at the direction of Marcus's office one more time.
Who are you, Marcus Voss?
- Writer
