Obsidian's Reign ¹

∷ Chapter 3 ∷

DINNER WAS THE last thing Clara would have expected James Duivel to ask of her in exchange for a full pardon on ruining his suit, but that was exactly what he had asked.

Dinner.

That was it.

Clara would have immediately scoffed and called his bluff, except she knew people like James Duivel never fooled around. He was being perfectly serious. She hesitated, still not entirely convinced he would let her off the hook that easily. There must be a catch somewhere. When asked, James had shrugged nonchalantly, reminding her that if she refused, all she had to do was pay him the full amount in cash.

His exact words were, "Alphaplex is too, how should I put it . . . Too sophisticated for unpaid labour. You'd have to work like everyone else and hand me the money personally once you've collated the correct amount to the cent."

She knew his conditions were created for the purpose of shaming her, and the thought made her grimace in mild disgust. There was no reason for him to embarrass her as such except for his own sick pleasure. But judging by the conceited smile on his face, she knew it was for that exact reason he even suggested such a thing in the first place.

"Just dinner, then?" Clara asked, feeling as though she had fallen into a trap set up specifically for her. The least she could do was to ensure the terms of their agreement were to her understanding before agreeing to anything.

"Dinner, that's all I ask," James replied, before adding with a smug smile, "Unless you wanted something more out of it?"

Clara frowned with a shake of her head before hastily saying, "Dinner is just fine."

"Good. I'll see you at the reception hall at six sharp," James said, raising his eyebrow at her in an almost challenging manner; daring her to stand against his words.

Instead of refuting, however, Clara chose to give him an uneasy smile, fidgeting uncomfortably under his scrutiny. She had her tongue pressed between her teeth, willing herself to keep her silence if only to rush their meeting and allow her a moment of peace to herself.

James scoffed in slight amusement at her apparent compliance before moving to pick the handset off the phone on his desk. He pressed a button and left the handset next to it, a soft beeping coming from the speaker accompanied by a blinking red light.

A few seconds passed in agonising silence before the lift dinged open, revealing an impeccably clad lady who seemed almost as though she had emerged from the front cover of a fashion magazine.

She sauntered over to the desk, giving Mr Duivel a smile and ignoring Clara completely. The lady was pretty and Clara was certain her smile was meant to be accommodating, but there was an odd feeling blooming within her. Something about the lady seemed rather . . . off.

Clara shifted her attention and glanced furtively across the desk at James Duivel. He seemed unperturbed and not the least bit aware of how robotic the lady's actions seemed to be. Did he not notice her odd behaviour? Though curious, a part of her knew it was none of her concern and she opted to revert her gaze back to her entwined hands, attempting to mask the interest that was clearly visible on her face.

"What can I do for you today, Mr Duivel?" the lady asked, her voice sweet and polished.

Hearing her speak only seemed to cause Clara's uneasiness to grow. Though her voice matched her outlook perfectly, it only served to accentuate the lack of expression on her face. It was unnerving to hear the intonation in her perfect voice, yet meet glassy eyes and features that lack any form of emotion.

"Emily," James said in a manner of greeting. "I'd like you to meet Clara Avery."

Clara watched as Emily turned almost mechanically in her direction and had to resist the urge to flinch when she met the latter's dead eyes. Emily stood staring at her for the next few seconds as though contemplating her next move before saying, "Hello, my name is Emily Clark. I'm Mr Duivel's personal assistant."