Page 58 of Darkest Deception

“By changing the colour palette to a cooler tone, we can keep it timeless. The rebranding is necessary to keep Glamorous trending.”

Who knew I would be so good at this job?

I’ve worked many jobs in the past, trying to keep myself occupied. So I’m not stupid. I wasn’t blindly thrust into this role, and I won’t run the company into the ground.

The board members nod around the table while I move onto my next topic.

Except, there is a certain distraction in front of me that my eyes can’t help but travel to.

A certain blond woman whose presence has been taunting me ever since she started working for me. I was supposed to keep an eye on her, but every single day, my body reaches out to hers.

I feel myself drawn closer to her. I want to carve open her head and demand the answers for my questions.

Why do you fucking do yoga at night?

Why water plants?

Why in the world do you like wearing emerald so much? That was supposed to be my favourite colour, not yours.

Why is she on my mind so much that I cannot fucking think when she is around? The minute she enters my office, my breathing stops and my eyes zone in on her. I notice every single thing about her, every part of her body and every change in her emotions.

I notice that she wears heels most days, bringing in a new bag every single day, as if she has an endless supply of them. She wears jewellery worth millions and is always dolled up, never to be seen without makeup. Except when she is at home, from what I have seen from outside her balcony.

That doesn’t really provide much, since she is quite far from where I stand outside.

That night, that night when I was going to claim her, to give her more of me, as a stalker, I found a bastard trying to put his hands on her.

That was the end of it because all I saw was his dead body.

I fucked up his friend’s car, driving him straight into his deathbed. God, I loved seeing his lifeless body lying limp, but unfortunately Darci didn’t die. I don’t care whose son he is, he needed a warning. All I know is that he touched Ambrose without consent, then kissed her on the damn cheek like she was his.

Like fuck she was.

Ambrose is mine.

Mine to obsess over.

That day, the small restraint on me snapped, and I lost it.

I sat at home, alone with my thoughts, and I realised that regardless of the hate I feel for her, I desire Ambrose sexually. I can’t wait to see her bent over my knee as I treat her attitude.

“Moving on to the changes in the finance team. The new team is working hard to create a new budget specifically for the clothing pieces featured in the magazine volumes. From new couture pieces to bespoke designs by upcoming designers, we can be the face of featuring new work on fresh models. The new interns in the marketing team are bringing in fresh ideas…” I carry on, sharing my ideas and vision for this company, but my eyes keep straying to Ambrose sitting just to the right of me.

She nods, jotting down what other board members suggest, a faint frown between her brows when they speak about things she doesn’t approve of. It makes me want to smile at how easily she can be read.

I often find her looking at me, a different glint in her eyes. Many times, I have caught her with her head tilted, as if she is trying to make sense of something.

After the meeting, we leave promptly. As I reach the threshold of my office, I glance over my shoulder to see Ambrose heading into her office, picking up a paper bag from the floor, and taking out her lunch.

I’ve noticed that she never eats in the cafeteria or even goes out to eat. She never talks to anyone in the company unless she’s required to. She just stays in her office. All day.

Shaking my head, I walk inside my own office, but as the door shuts behind me, I can’t move a single step farther into the office.

The place is just a temporary assignment for me.

My gaze drops to my shoes, the sleek black shoes that young Helia wouldn’t be able to afford. I grin at the facade I currently wear. A fugitive trying to hide from the MI5 as a CEO.

They’ve been close to finding my accounts filled with money I make from providing personal information and background checks on people I see Remo interact with daily. They are people whose minds are sick and twisted and they want to ruin lives. I do blackmail work for people who want to ruin the weak, but I also serve them with a little bit of their own justice, a little taste of their own fucking poison if I know where and what may happen to the victim.

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