Page 19 of My Grumpy Billionaire Soccer Star

A day before, I was informed that the shoot for Novaspire Technologies was to be held in the UK, whose contract I had totally forgotten about; some documents were shipped to the office for signing. I proceeded to sign them without thinking much because I had seen “mobile technology,”and I had thought it was from Novaspire. I had been too tired to re-read the terms since Vaughn and the company’s executives had already had a meeting via Zoom.

I turn into the road leading to Vaughn’s sprawling mansion, and I can see it looming ahead of me. Eventually, my car pullsup outside the wrought iron gate of the house, and I honk. The immaculate, well-mowed lawn spreads ahead of me as I ease my way in, but the magnificent view does nothing to calm me.

I knock on the front door, and as I wait for it to open, I notice how the glimmering sunlight reflects off the windows, casting long shadows onto the manicured lawn.

The door clicks open, startling me despite that being what I am waiting for. Vaughn’s maid, Elena, steps out with a flowing flowery dress, a friendly smile etched on her face.

“Good evening, Miss Rachel. Welcome. I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

I smile nervously. “Yeah, I thought I’d surprise you guys. Is Vaughn around?”

“Sure. Please come in.” She steps aside to let me in.

“I’m sure he’s in his study. I heard footsteps toward there when I was in the kitchen.”

I nod my thanks and walk through the foyer, take a turn to my left, where the study is located, and make a few taps on the door.

Silence. A heavy silence that only makes my heartbeat faster greets me, and for a moment, it feels like I am the only one in the mansion.

I tap again, and this time, heavy footsteps sound from the other end, and the door pulls open.

Vaughn stands in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob as he rests his shoulder against the half-open door.

My breath catches in my throat, and I freeze, my eyes reluctantly drifting from his half-naked body to his expressionless face, which surprises me because I expected him to be pissed. For a moment, he just stands there looking at me, and I think he isn’t going to let me in. Eventually, he swings his weight to the other side.

“Come in, Rachel. I’m sure you have a lot of explaining to do, don’t you?” he says in an intimidating tone.

He swaggers past me and settles on a desk, picks up a book from his side, and begins toying with it absent-mindedly, his shoulders hunched and his gaze piercing.

“I can’t describe how sorry I am about what happened, Mr. Vaughn. It was a faux pas, I admit.”

I pause, gauging his reaction, but none comes except for the disdainful sneer that spread across his face. This only increases my nervousness, and I step closer in an attempt to conceal it.

“I have tried all I can to rectify it, but all have proved futile. However, I will keep doing all I can to rectify the issue, so please, give me some—”

“And I suppose your proof that you’ve been doing something to ‘rectify’ the issue is the fact that you missed work for the past two days, huh?” he snaps, violently banging the book on the desk. “It took you two days to have the guts to face me for your silly mistake! Two whole days only to do what? Tell me that you haven’t succeeded in rectifying the issue?”

The room is already dim, which emphasizes the darkness that has crept into his eyes. He looks exactly like I have envisaged when I called to inform him the first time. Sweat glistens on his delineated pectorals, and the delicate sprinkling of hair on his chest scatters even around his nipples. I just stand there, frozen, more out of shock than actual fear.

My hoarse voice betrays my emotions when I finally open my mouth. “The managers of the company wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to reason with them. I am thinking we should—”

“We? You did this! You messed everything up just like always!”

Did he really just say that?

Furious, he hops down from the desk and strides toward me until we come to stand face to face.

“You know what I was doing in my study before you came? Sitting back and wondering at how dumb I must have been whenI hired a dumbass like you who isn’t good for anything as my secretary!”

His words drive sharp stakes into my heart as he keeps berating me with more hurtful, heartbreaking words that I can’t remember. All that stays with me is the heat of his anger, his furious breaths brushing against my face as I cringe, my feelings hurt beyond words.

But I said I was sorry.That’s the thought I cling to, repeating it over and over in my mind as I stand there, enduring everything he throws at me.

Yes, this was my mistake, but do I really deserve to be treated like this? Is this fair in any way?

While lost in a pool of thoughts, I zone out and can only see his mouth move. I snap out of my thoughts to catch him saying something.

“The other day, you came thirty minutes late to work, leaving me to—”

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