Page 48 of Darkest Deception

As soon as I sit down at my desk, an email pops up on my screen.

I scowl and click on it.

From: Helia Nashwood

To: Ambrose Torre

Knew you were submissive.

Love,

Helia

I want to strangle this man. He tests my patience every single day.

The little ‘love’ makes my hand twitch.

The day goes on without me shouting at him again. I silently hand him food at lunch. Then comes the meeting at the end of the day… Just one more hour and I will get to go home. In silence.

I sit next to him at the table, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. He simply watches everyone present their reports. He doesn’t speak, but everyone still tries to get a reaction or a smile out of him. Every time I look up, I find him looking at me.

Not a smile nor a smirk in place, just looking.

Something about it unsettles me, and I am not sure how to take it.

I raise a brow at him. What?

His lip quirks up at his side, and he shakes his head once.

Then I catch him again. This time, I mouth it. What?

But he just turns back to the projector in front of us.

The meeting ends, and everyone leaves. I drop my things off at my office, then turn around to head outside. Helia comes out of his office at the same time, and we quietly walk towards the elevator, then wait, watching the numbers on the display go up. It’s working today.

“Do you know you chew your pen when you hate someone’s idea?” Helia breaks the silence as we walk into the elevator.

“What?”

“Yeah, and you quite literally glare at the person when their idea is, in simple terms, trash.”

I huff. “I think you need to get new interns.”

“You don’t like any of them?”

I turn to Helia. My heart rate skyrockets when I catch his relaxed posture against the elevator. His head is dropped back as he watches me with lazy eyes. He looks so relaxed and at ease, maybe a little sluggish like a drunk person would be, but he looks at me like there may be nothing more interesting than me. And that’s a bit scary.

What would Helia be like drunk?

No. I don’t want to know.

He would probably finish the job of killing me.

“No. Instead of doing something cliché and floral, like they suggested for the spring collection, we should do a shoot in a forest instead. Or dress the models in big poofy dresses against simple backgrounds. Then the focus will be on the dresses and what we are presenting rather than just a bunch of flowers, which is exactly what our competitors will be doing.

“Not only will the costs be lower, but we can invest in presenting bigger designers, hence remaining exclusive. Then the marketing budget can be used on better models.” I lift my eyes from the grey wall of the elevator to find Helia watching me in silence.

I sigh.

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