Mr. Midoriya, You're Quite Illusive

Chapter 1

Momo POV

Well, I'm utterly pissed. I've been cheated, used and gaslighted for so long that it feels normal. I mean, I barely had control over my life in the past, I thought becoming a hero would change that, but no. Well, I guess context is needed. My name is Yaoyorozou Momo, daughter to the Yaoyorozou Clan Head. With such a position I have many privileges and opportunities but it's too controlling. I decided to become a hero because I could command my destiny while also being a force for good. My mother was very understanding, supportive even. She believed that I was more than a pretty face with a big brain. My father though had... grievances. He wanted me to be safe, understandable for I am his only heir. But he allowed me to become a hero. For 3 years now, I've been at UA. I'm now 19, my career is taking off. I don't seek fame so I only make low-level arrests and some other heroic acts but I like the stability of patrolling uptown near the dock and pier.

The independence was nice, I had a job, an almost-boyfriend and money as if it grew from a tree.

Perfect.

Then came the Tycoon. The Midoriya Tycoon. A man. An Illusive Man. He is my boss, for in the afternoon I am his secretary. I fear the fact no one knows anything about him, for in the night I am his wife. Damn you father, going behind my back was too much and too far. He practically sold me, his daughter, to an unknown corporate big shot who's kept his identity completely hidden. For all I know, he's 40 something years old and is into... Shit. At least I got to keep my name, but I have to break off what I was developing with Shoto. Great, just great.

I now stood before one of the larger buildings in the Commerce District of Musutafu, Green Pastures Inc. It's a pharmaceutical and biotech research company. It has a few labs, some on the upper levels but most of them are underground. My job here will be Personal Secretarial Advisor to the CEO and also operate as a middle man... woman, during meetings. I'm responsible for the documenting and forwarding of data from General Records in order of priority to my boss and also give my professional financial opinion.

Sounds alright.

It's 4:30, an hour into the end of my Monday shift. I was able to get some rest after my day job so I'm good to go for work. I walked into the calm, almost tranquil building. The echoes of landlines and workers gossiping went through one ear, and out the other. I briskly made my way into the elevator, ignoring the wolf whistles of the less subtle men and the sarcastic remarks of the evidently curios or jealous women. Vice versa as well. What can I say? I'm hot and I know it.

I looked at the card my driver gave me. Floor 15. I felt the lift rise a few floors in response to my input. It stopped at Floor 8, a neatly dressed woman in a blazer and pencil skirt entered the cabin. Her eyes were droopy from overwork, her left hand holding a cup of coffee and her right holding a binder under her armpit. "H-hello, what floor?" I greeted politely. She cleared her throat before grunting, "15, please." I smiled slightly before allowing the elevator to continue its ascension. "Same here... You going to see the boss?" I queried to which she nodded. "Oh, what's he like? I'm supposed to be interviewing for a job." I half truthed, I already had the job.

She stared at me, her eyes sickened and fixated on me. "He's the devil." She whispered with a psychotic growl. "Y-y-you can't please the man. 'You missed a comma.', 'I asked for font size 15, not 14.' I swear if he didn't pay so well, I'd be out of here." Complained the woman, almost squeezing her coffee to the point of spill.

Now I'm terrified, genuinely spooked. I quickly shut my ajar mouth as the elevator dinged. We disembarked and headed in the same direction, quietly. She sneaks a peak, a look over of my physique and dress. I was told to wear casual clothing. I acquired form-fitting jeans and a random, but still appropriate shirt. I also wore flats and a satchel over my shoulder.

We came upon a room, a door with no handle but a scanner in the form of a stand with a glass plate. "You here for a job? Just follow me in." She ordered. I nodded as she clutched her binder in-between her armpit and placed her palm openly on the panel. The door opened to reveal a large, corner office-like quarters. As a library of sorts, there were books, digital appliances and physical utensils. A secondary room, I assume is a bathroom. In the middle was a large, wooden desk with files, papers and a laptop.

"What the hell!" Shouted the woman, dropping her coffee and binder to clutch at her hair, pulling out a few strands. "Where's my stuff!?" She gasped. Now that I think about it, a few areas do look as if they had something there. Suddenly, the glass window darkened and a large screen emerged. A projector of sorts.

Now, this is how you spend money.

The silhouette of a man appeared, cross-legged in a chair. The room he was in is dark, very dark. No light except for the embers of a cigarette. This was him, my husband, my boss. "Ms Ikoji, good afternoon." He greeted softy, a cold, calculating voice erupting from his throat. "S-sir, w-was I robbed or something?" She asked worriedly. "No, I simply had your assets relocated, Madam Secretary."

Wait... She's his secretary? So that means she's being... "I have to cut your pay, Madam Secretary." He noted, a drawing a breath on his cigarette, a barely visible cloud shrouding his already unseen face. "W-why? T-to what?"

"Zero dollars and zero cents." He answered graciously, almost jovially. "B-but sir..." She stuttered. A change in the screen occurred where I believe his mouth is. A smile? Sadistic bastard. "You said it yourself. If I didn't pay you so well, you'd quit." He quoted. He listened to our conversation. That's a breach of privacy. "Plus, you've outplayed your usefulness. I have no need for addicts."

Addicts? "Sir, those are baseless rumours and I will not stand for them!" She rejected proudly. The screen changed to what appeared to be a recording. A bathroom? There she was, sitting on the toilet, pretending to be using it but instead, she poured a powder into a cup of coffee, not unlike the one she dropped. "S-sir, that's a complete breach of privacy." She objected. The screen reverted back to the man. "Section A, Clause C-137 of my company rules states that I am able to use any and all monitoring equipment under the premise of fair use and security."

"S-so you've been watching me in the bathroom?"

"No comment."

"Why? Afraid I'll sue you?"

He paused, completely froze before a gut-wrenching chuckle escaped his lips. Like a psychopath ready to slit your throat, a heinous laugh boomed from the depths of his stomach. He was almost hysterical before suddenly ceasing and replying, "Would you feel better if I said I had a full team of homosexual men reviewing the data from the security cameras?" I asked cynically. "Either way, I could take you to court, expose your addiction and have your ex-husband gain full custody of your 8-year-old girl?" Dayum. Just dayum. He's threatening to get her child removed from her? That's a bit too far if you ask me but it was effective at silencing her. "Mm. You may leave. I have already acquired a replacement. Mrs Yaoyorozou." He stated briefly. The woman turned to me, a wave of deep-seated anger hiding an even deeper rooted sadness washed over. She stormed outside, leaving me and the Illusive Man. "Lady Momo Yaoyorozou, daughter of Jopago Yaoyorozou. A pleasure. Please, settle in for work"

I gripped the strapped of my satchel, noticing how cold my fingers became. "A-are y-y-you so uncouth a-as to greet your spouse in s-such a manner?" Gosh, I haven't stuttered like this in a while. Am I truly that scared of him after this one event? He sighed heavily. "My dear, here I am your employer. We can save this... husband and wife nonsense for home," He answered with a hint of annoyance. At least he's not interested in my bod-. "...or the bedroom." He jested. Ugh, he's one of those, huh?

"Of course sir, understandable." I immediately made my way to the desk, resting my bag on the armchair. "Before that, I have provided a change of clothes in the restroom. Change." He commanded, it's as if I can feel every puff of smoke he breathes down my neck. How can one man be so intimidating? "I..."

"For the record, all bathrooms are monitored by computer programs. And if it gives you any more relief, why would I spy on you? I mean, there's more pornography online that are stars in the galaxy. And there are a lot of stars." He remarked. Yes, he makes a point. Plus he's rich, he could have another woman at his feet tending to him. For all I know, he's not wearing pants at all.

"Fine... I look forward to working with you."

"Make no mistake, I do not."

Words 1600

Posted 12/4/2021