Facing Reality

41)"May I touch you, please?"

This chapter contain Mature Content

Thalia POV:

I don't know how long it took us to get to my company because I fell asleep in the car. When it came to a halt, I opened the door, and Sandro gave me a blank stare. I shrug and proceed up the long-tiring steps. 

"Do I have any blood on me?" I remark as I spin around, forcing him to look at my ass. "Sandro!" I snapped my fingers in his face, forcing him to look at me. "Do I have blood on me?" 

"I'm not sure, let me double-check." He says this while grabbing my hand and spinning me around.

I roll my eyes, knowing he's only interested in looking at my ass.

"No, you don't. Don't ever wear these pants again. Your ass is basically all out, which is fine with me, but I don't want other guys staring at you because I'll shoot their eyes out." 

"And why should I care whether or not you shoot them? They shouldn't have been gazing "I say and walk in, with him making a noise of approval. When the people in the foyer gaze at him, I grab his hand and squeeze it tightly. 

"Would it be inappropriate for me to want to stab them because they're looking at you?" I murmur in his ear, and he shakes his head. "I don't see anything wrong with it." 

I nod and maniacally grin at one of the girls who hastily turned her head the other way. 

I forgot to say that when I was with Konstantin, he allowed me to operate my company and put it in order, so the locals are aware of who I am. 

He claimed it was my reward for becoming his weapon. I wanted to slice his throat at his phrase for me, but I held back since I knew the consequences. That reminds me that I need to talk to Sandro about torturing him. 

"Ms. Larisa, I didn't know you were coming," my assistant says and hurries over to me. 

"Yes, I am aware. I wanted to double-check that everything was in order. How did the board presentation go while I was away?" As we all get into the open elevator, I say. As I stand in front of Sandro, I push the button to my office. 

"Everything went smoothly, ma'am. We're working on a new project with Nalia "She claims 

"That's great; just remember to email me the specifics. I'd like to be included." As we exit the elevator, I say. "Also, clear my schedule for next week; I have things I want to do. Make sure Marcus provides me with the financial statements and budget plans for the new marketing campaigns." I finish, and she nods, typing quickly on her tablet. 

"Yes, ma'am." She walks away, and Sandro and I head into my office. This included comfy couches and chairs. The walls were soothing rather than depressing. The desk was properly organized, and the bookshelves were dust-free. 

"This is how an office should be," I tell Sandro as I take a seat behind my desk. 

"Are you ever going to let go of teasing me and my style?" he asks, sitting in front of my desk. 

"Let me think about it," I say, pretending to think, then glance at him and say, "No." 

He hums to himself and looks at me. I log onto my computer to check my emails and respond to those that appear to be important. I went through my archive to see whether I had overlooked anyone.

I then answer to Ms. Nalia, who emailed me about her desire to have 200 hundred outfits manufactured. That was a lot of money considering I manufacture one-of-a-kind and pricey apparel and jewelry. That's why I appreciate it when Ms. Nalia requests assistance. She always pays on time and in full.