Ruthless Revenge

Chapter 2

After straightening my skirt and smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles in my jacket, I took my first step into the building I was banned from three years ago. It gave me a bit of confidence to know that nobody here would recognize me as the woman who broke their boss's heart three years prior. My hair was no longer red and it was much shorter than it was back then.

There was a perfectly groomed fashionable woman behind the reception. Moonlighting as a model for Vogue?

She was wearing a clinging dress with her blonde hair slicked over one shoulder. She had glittery eyeshadow all over her eyes, black mascara all over her lashes, foundation all over her face and scarlet lipstick smeared on her lips.

Stop with the cynicism!

Image, I reminded myself, was everything, and he could afford whatever image he chose to project on planet Earth.

"May I help you?" the receptionist asked as I entered the door and walked up to the desk. The receptionist, whose nameplate read Christa, seemed loaded with contempt at just the appearance of me.

I mentally rolled my eyes and ignored the look.

"Katiana Bennett. I have an appointment with—" I hesitated fractionally. This was business, not personal—"Mr Styles." It was surprisingly not hard to get an appointment with him because his secretary was new and knew nothing about our previous relationship.

The answering smile held polite warmth...practised, and tuned up or down according to client importance. In this instance, down a notch.

"Mr Styles is unavoidably detained in a conference." She indicated the bay of comfortable chairs. If you'd care to take a seat?"

I felt my stomach tighten with nervous tension. Now that I am here, I wanted it over and done with.

Each passing minute seemed like ten, and I had to make a conscious effort not to constantly check my watch. I idly flipped the pages of a complimentary magazine, with no recollection of absorbing script or pictures.

How long would I have to wait?

Was he stretching out the time to deliberately unnerve me?

If I could walk out of here, I thought darkly...Yet doing so would achieve nothing. And this wasn't about me, I reminded myself.

"Ms. Bennett."

I glanced up at the sound of my name and saw the receptionist move out from the console.

"Mr Styles will see you now. Take the elevator..."

I lifted my hands to stop her. "I know where it is."

I walked straight to the elevator and pressed the button that would lead to my salvation. Thank God, the elevator was empty all the way up. I don't think I could manage if someone recognized me.

Oh, come on, Kat! You're here for a job, so what if someone recognized you?

Stand tall and project a semblance of aloof confidence. The latter was almost impossible, given the state of my nerves.

I've seen his image on the television screen, in newspapers and photographs in glossy magazines. But it was years since I had come face-to-face with him.

Would he look the same?

Did he still have those eyes that bore through you as if he had x-ray vision? Did he still workout out and go to the gym? Did he still have the smile of an angel?

The silent query arose in a moment of sheer hysteria, and I beat it down as the elevator door opened.

A short black woman greeted me at the elevator with a smile. "Ms. Bennett?"