Death Riders

Chapter 31. Mouth war

The fact that your boss wanted to dramatically enhance your liquor supply wouldn't bother you much. You'd hope that he'd get drunk every night and forget he ever owned a multimillion company. Except your boss isn't probably a Collinsford. You'd be fortunate if you had William Collinsford as your boss who does things in his own 'going with the flow' way. Or Stephen who prioritizes employee satisfaction above all else. Even Rita who's manipulative in nature would at least reward you with a bit of relief. But if you're stuck with Deckard, the eldest, be ready to suffer from all-nighters, back-pain and an urge to punch something or someone.

Finishing up the accounts for today took me about five hours. Had the increase been two-fold instead of five-fold, I might've had a more synchronized management. But supervising the transport of thousands of liquor crates and making sure everything is in place in the warehouse really took up most of my time.

Finally, at 10 p.m., I was done compiling all the reports. At least those under my responsibility. In the end, I was ready to provide my employer the information and probably some much-needed subtle praise about how well I performed today.

Just when I was about to knock on his door, the door magically opened. My feet already told me to run away from all this but instead, they remained rooted on the ground. For what went out the door wasn't Deckard, but a woman in sophisticated clothing and a starstruck look in her eyes. It was late at night. No one would need to enter his office out of work hours.

Instantly, my eyes narrowed and the fire in my soul ignited brightly through my eyes, hoping to burn her. "Is Mr. Collinsford in there?"

She blinked at me then stuttered, an aftermath of a tiresome oogling I suspect. "Y-Y-Yes."

I gritted my teeth. "You may go." I turned slightly to show her the way out. I waited until she was gone. Screw knocking, I barged in without permission and stomped all the way to his desk and slammed the reports in front of him, effectively getting his attention.

He raised his eyebrow slightly. "I'm not fond of emotions, Mr. Johnson."

I scoffed. "It's the accounts for today." My jaw tightened when I saw a very girly pen on his desk with pink feathers on its end. "What the fuck is that?" I crossed my arms and stood sideways, refusing to lock eyes with him.

He pushed my buttons even further when he stowed it away neatly in his drawer. Then, he returned to writing down whatever bullshit he usually writes down.

I tried my best to keep my mouth shut and sew my lips together. But the bottled up rage inside me blew up. "What the hell is a woman doing in your office this late at night?" Disgust and anger was prominent in my voice that it shook the room with fire.

"You might find comfort in knowing I conduct business with anyone at any time of the day." He continued scribbling and I couldn't hold back the jitters on my feet so I paced around the room to calm myself down.

"It would give the wrong impression if a woman stayed too late in the office." I spoke bluntly.

He was silent, clearly ignoring my tantrum.

"Who knows what you two were doing in a dim place like this?" I swirled a finger around the room. "You told me that you wouldn't hold back your advances anymore."

"I did." He replied calmly.

I scoffed loudly, making sure he listened to how annoyed I was. "Then what the bloody hell were you doing with that woman?"

"Like I said, business." He was as still as a statue, not affected by anything I said.

My hands became ticklish, in need to clutch on something. The next moment, I was wielding my blade in my right hand and juggled with it to distract my hands from strangling him to death. "You said that you fancied me!" I raised my voice. "If you were serious about it, you wouldn't be playing around with other women!" I was sure someone outside could hear me shouting.