With the towel wrapped tightly around myself I leave the steamy bathroom feeling chills run through my body as it feels the temperature change. Bullets of water drops fall from my freshly washed brunette locks, leaving a trace across my bedroom and into my walk-in closet where I find myself staring at the rows and piles of clothes. La Perla lingerie, Armani pencil skirt, Versace blouse and Choos for pumps. Messy curls, Celine bag in one hand, coffee cup, phone and car keys in another I leave my apartment and head for work.
Driving in New York City can easily be compared with a time-capsule. Everything around you moves so fast yet you sit at the same red light three times before getting to go. In my case, rocking to Empire State Of Mind while applying some light make-up, not daring to check the time. I am probably gonna be late for the most important meeting since I've started working for Damien. Only thinking about it makes the hairs on the back of my head stand. This contract and presentation that are taking place today have taken us so long to prepare, it is such a hard project and it has no... face. The guy not once showed up, only sent his men and a few brief e-mails to me. The weird thing is, he is about to blow some millions and doesn't even bother to check and bother what for. To me this means only one thing: money laundering.
I park my car, giving myself a mental pat on the back for making it here on time and quickly head to the elevators, checking myself in the mirror again and taking a calming breath, not allowing my nerves to get the best of me.
As soon as I step out of the elevators I am greeted by Angelica, our secretary, who looks like she's seen a ghost. She grabs my bag and coffee cup and hands me my file with everything I need for the meeting, voicing the words I already imagined she would as soon as I saw her face: " You're in deep shit" . Peachy. "The guy came earlier, the meeting just started a few minutes ago."
Fucking asshole. Who does he think he is, not showing up for months and then coming almost an hour earlier?!
Running towards the conference room I glance behind me asking Angelica the only question lingering in the back of my head "Have you seen him? What was he like?"
Letting out a sigh and pushing me to walk faster she whispers softly not to be heard in the room we just reached. "You have no idea."
Pushing the door open I slip in while Matt is offering a presentation and nobody seems to notice me. Except four pair of eyes, one belonging to Damien, shooting daggers at me and looking in massive stress-caused pain and the other I feel on myself from the moment I realize who it belongs to, ignore it. I sit besides Damien across from its possessor.
Slowly glancing up I find myself staring into the deepest grey eyes I have ever seen. He has a deep gaze, and he shamelessly looks directly at me somehow making me feel like he is seeing all of me. Oh my God... Crossing my legs I ignore him and stare at the presentation Matt is offering, the one I should have been presenting if this gorgeous asshole wouldn't have come so early.
To say Adonis is nothing compared to him would be an understatement. His jaw is the most perfectly shaped jaw I've ever seen, and his lips are incredibly plump and perfectly formed. Jesus Christ, his mother's vagina must have had stardust in it, not semen.
As if hearing my thoughts he looks at me expectantly.
"Well, Miss..?" What? I obviously zoned out, and he's expecting me to answer some question I didn't know he asked because I was too busy thinking about his God-blessed lips.
"D'Urbervilles, Ashley D'Urbervilles" Please repeat the question, please repeat the question.
"You're not gonna answer my question, Miss D'Urbervilles?"
I can feel Damien shivering next to me and I know I'm going to get into trouble as soon as the evil is out of this door.
Leaning closer he places his arms on the table, intertwining his fingers, forming an almost perfect triangle with his torso as the base and showing a Rolex that probably costs more than my life.
"Why should I sign with your company when, obviously, you are not very professional, giving the fact that you were late to a presentation you were supposed to offer? I noticed yours is the first name on that Power Point you colleague is showing me."
He is challenging me with his eyes, and moving his head as if urging me to speak faster. Who does he think he is?
" Well, first of all I wasn't late, you , Sir, were an hour early. And second, for money-laundering any company is perfect, ours is just pretending not to notice what you're doing."
The worlds are out of my mouth before I can stop myself. God knows I spent weeks without sleep for this specific meeting, and he comes in here not taking us seriously and talking like that?
Damien literally slaps his face while the evil doesn't take his eyes off of me and I can even see a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"I need a moment alone with Miss D'Urbervilles, please," he says to no one in particular but as soon as his sentence is finished it takes just a few seconds for everybody to rush out of the door.
He gets up and so do I. Strolling closer to me he stops a few feet away, enough for me to take in his overwhelming form. He is tall and dark. His chocolatey skin makes a surreal contrast with his grey eyes, dark hair and the white collar of his dress shirt. The black Armani suit compliments him even more and the way it wraps around him makes me conclude that it is custom made. Wearing five times your average college tuition, the man yells confidence and power. I suddenly feel small, very small.
"If you are so smart and think you know what I do, I can assure you it's not safe to talk to someone of my power like that." He speaks every word so slow as if explaining the two-times table to a handicapped child.
"I can launder you out of this word along with your smart-mouth, and I will unless you change your attitude towards me, love."
He steps back, and that's the moment I realize I've been holding my breath the whole time he spoke.
"I'll send the signed contract tomorrow." He says as he stomps out of the door, leaving me in utter shock. What the hell was that?
YOU ARE READING
Opus Dei
RomanceOpus Dei is a secret society which exists since the 17th century. It has a hereditary character and operates under grave circumstances. No one who doesn't have a family recommendation to enter is not allowed to even get near the smallest members. Th...