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Chapter 2

  • Mia hated working on weekends. It's a practice she's carried over from her education to her professional life. When she was in school, weekends were something of a prize, a treasure that she valued with everything in her being. Because her weeks were so work-heavy, no thanks to the news boss it's nice having two full days all to herself. 
  • It's not that she had important things to do on the weekend - quite the opposite actually. The weekends are when Mia caught up on the shows she watched, pursued her hobbies (reading), and - most importantly - could sleep till ten in the morning without having to worry about Damons calls. 
  • Everyone should be allowed to do that, right? In life, there has to be a clear separation between work and home. It was her only demand when she was hired on a permanent basis with Rossi Company. The twenty-five-year-old had been very specific and persistent about needing weekends off, yet, after Damon started working, she got less and less of those weekends. And she's pretty sure that if her work weren't completed by the end of the day, he would call her again. On the weekend. Because he can do that and lives to see her annoyed. 
  • That's why Mia rushed with her work, hurriedly typing all the files neatly because she had only a few hours to work on the presentation as well. Squinting her eyes at the screen, she was forced to keep track of every single letter so that she could avoid typos. Another thing her boss hated apart from tardiness. The spelling errors. If he didn't have a string of lovers, she would have assumed him to be a lonely man with too many problems to crib about. 
  • Putting together slides in a correct order after typing them with the speed Flash could rival took roughly three hours. She patted her own back for the feat, something her boss never did. Pigs would fly before he would do that to her. Smug bastard. 
  • An unrecognisable song came on the earphones, but it made her head nonetheless. That's what happens when she chose a random playlist. It managed to take the edge off a bit, and so does the next song. All the while, she kept singing along to various songs shuffled on her phone when she heard footsteps approaching her direction.
  • Mia raised her head to glance at her friend, Jane. The one and only. Most of them were envious of her, for several reasons. 
  • "Ready for lunch?" Jane preened at her, rubbing her pregnant belly. 
  • Mia twisted her lips at that. She would give anything to spend some time with her four-month pregnant best friend. They rarely get to go outside nowadays. It's because of hectic schedules paired with Jane being tired very quickly and wanting to do nothing but cuddle her boyfriend and dog. 
  • "I'm going to have to skip lunch. Today officially sucks" She said with a dramatic exhale, her fingers itching.
  • Jane wriggled her brows. "Sucky day or sucky boss?" 
  • "I heard he was kind of angry this morning. Everyone was talking about how he would have lost it if you hadn't showed up." 
  • Mia flushed. "Typical of them to romanticise his anger. He's nothing but an angry asshole."
  • "Angry attractive asshole" Jane corrected, slumping on the seat in front of Mia. 
  • "You have a boyfriend, and you are pregnant with his baby."
  • "And? I can still appreciate a good body."
  • The twenty-five year old wrinkled her nose. "You all are blinded by his looks to see the kind of person he is"
  • Her best friend burst out laughing, shaking her head. Was it something she said? Why was Jane finding it funny? It's real, alright. Wiping the corner of her eyes, her friend swallowed. "Says you! I remember you drunkenly admitting how you wouldn't mind getting railed by him in his office." 
  • Mia let out a scandalised gasp. "Announce it to the entire office, don't you?! Besides I told you that half a year ago in my drunken state, and also he had just taken over, so it doesn't count." 
  • She still couldn't believe that she said that. When she first saw Damon, Mia thought he was the most gorgeous man ever with those grass-green eyes and clean-cut jaw and a blank face. That was before she started working for him, which was six months ago.
  • "Yeah...Yeah, live in denial." 
  • Even though Jane didn't work for Damon, she knew everything about him, after all, with his well-known short fuse, he was a living legend in the office. Also, Mia ranted to her best friend about her boss atleast twice a day, so there's that. 
  • Mia pointed to her work. "This is my punishment, so you carry on. I can't join you."
  • "You really don't want me to bring you anything?" Her friend raised her brow. "Like, a hitman? Or a sharp-pointed object?"
  • She giggled. "Not today."
  • Jane smiled at her and left.
  • ***
  • When she stood up to get some coffee, Mia felt that typical annoyance of being watched. Like someone was following her every movement. When she looked up, her mouth slacked staring at her boss. Her face quickly heated up, lips in between her teeth. How long has he been watching her? 
  • "Sorry, sir, I almost..."
  • "I don't want to hear it. I need you to go downstairs and get me the market analysis file" Damon adjusted his tie, looking at his reflection in the nearby window. "Do you think you can do that, Miss Grace?"
  • He was belittling her. Something he did at every chance he got. Whatever Mia had only four months to get her diploma and then she'll find something new, maybe move back to her hometown. Studying while you are working is hard, but she made enough money during that to relax for a few years without having to worry.
  • "I'll ask Himesh to go..."
  • "That was not a suggestion" He cleared his throat. "Those are important files. I want you to go and get them" Damon stared at her for a while before turning and heading back to his office. What the hell was his fucking problem? Was it really necessary to slam the door like a temperamental teenager?
  • Huffing under her breath, she grabbed her coat and started walking to the deputy office, which was way too low. She was in mood to chat, so she quickly grabbed the folder and came back to knock on his door, but no one answered. Where was he? 
  • ***
  • She was hurrying through the empty corridors. Running to find her boss.
  • Breathe, Mia. He can smell the fear.
  • When she approached the conference room, she tried to calm her breathing and slowed down. A trail of light shone under the door. He was definitely there, waiting. Self-conscious, Mia straightened her shirt collar and ran a hand through her loose hair. That's how Damon wanted them to be, not tied up like professionals are supposed to do. 
  • Mia remembered how it had gone down. She had rushed in the office with her head tied in a pony tail, high top and a black band around it. 
  • Her boss was busy sipping his coffee when he noticed her. "You look better with your hair down, Miss Grace."
  • That's all he said. It wasn't meant to be anything, but she took it personally and ever since then stopped tying her head. 
  • Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. 
  • "Come in."
  • Mia entered the well-lit space. The conference room was huge. It was on the top floor, and one wall was covered with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, offering spectacular views of the city. Dusk darkened the sky outside, and skyscrapers punctuated the horizon with its lighted windows. In the centre of the room was a large, heavy wooden table, and at the far end, Damon sat like he owned the room which technically he did. His family owned the building.
  • Damon had his chin rested on his fingers. His eyes seemed to penetrate hers as he licked his lips. "You are late again." 
  • "I apologise, sir." She started, her voice still wavering. "I couldn't find you in your office..."
  • Mia stopped herself. Excuses would not help in the situation. Besides, it's not her fault that he loved shifting places and expecting her to know him. It's beyond her control. He could go to hell.
  • Without looking into his eyes, she placed the folder in front of him on the table.
  • "Here's the file you wanted"
  • He didn't answer, just stared at her. Instead of saying something, he gestured towards the door. Mia knitted her brows together, lips twisting. What was he trying to say? Should she leave? It's never clear with him. Why was he so calm? The deafening silence was so unlike him. 
  • "Close the door, Miss Grace. There's something we need to talk" She gulped as those words sank in. 
  • ***
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