Page 7 of Baby For My Bossy Fake Fiancé

“Shit.” I instinctively placed my hands over my mouth when I realized I had said that aloud. My heart thudded in my chest. I refused to look at him. How was I supposed to?

His large hands that had wrecked my senses came into view. His scent was just like how I recalled. Musk and earthy with woody spice.

And it engulfed me now more than ever.

Wait, I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about his scent. He just fired me. Right on the doorpost without giving me a chance.

“On your way out, tell John to send someone else.” I heard the familiar voice that had weakened my knees, and I tried not to die of embarrassment when he gave me a once-over. Surely, he remembered what we-

What in the world was wrong with him?

Suddenly, every trace of nervousness or rational thoughts vanished from my being. Leaving rising anger. Anger that I had let someone like him touch me.

“Why sir?” I managed a calm voice, meeting his eyes. It was now, without the mask, that he seemed significantly older than me. A decade and a half older.

Yet, his handsomeness was still intact. Grey eyes, thick eyebrows, and high cheekbones that complimented a perfectly straight nose stared blankly at me.

I silently hoped he wouldn’t slam the door in my face. I still valued the job.

Arching a brow, he dipped his hand in his pocket as if I were nothing. “I have no reason to explain myself.”

I tightened my lips. “Because you think you wouldn’t be justified?”

“Do not question my verdict.” His voice maintained a steady cadence.

Verdict?

This asshole really had the nerve to remain calm? While firing an innocent person all because of…of-

My eyes moved from his head to his feet. He was clad in suits. He’s a corporate asshole.

Admittedly, he was a corporate asshole who could ruin my career before it even began. A corporate asshole that could ruin me with a single flick of his finger. But I hadn’t worked so hard for this to get fired without being given a chance.

“Well, permit me to say, sir. I don’t quite understand what you mean by verdict,” I maintained a bold ground. “Does verdict mean firing an innocent graduate all because of an incident controlled by chance? Does it mean evading reality by putting someone’s career at stake? Does verdict mean being biased even though you know what is right?”

My chest heaved as I watched his jaw tick. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Jackpot.

The weight of my words hung in the air, settling in his eyes. Silence befell the hallway. And for a split second, I reconsidered my whole life.

I hadn’t just talked shit to one of the most powerful men in New York.

He looked like he was counting to ten in his head. If looks could kill, I’d be more than six feet under. But it doesn’t.

And I was going to finish what I started. Because, unlike him, I’m no coward.

Finally, he spoke in an eerily cool voice. “Verdict means doing what I want.”

What the-

“My word stands,” he continued. “I don’t like talkative insubordination. Be gone.”

This arrogant prick.

“I am here because your firm deemed me fit to be.” I quipped. “My academic records speak for itself, whether or not you accept it. And it is a pure violation of the civil right to fire an employee under the anti-discrimination laws.”

He looked shocked at my last words. We both knew it wasn’t anything about anti-discrimination laws. But it could be argued that he fired me because I was a lady.

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