The CEO's Sister

Chapter 20: Justice Has Decided

Shizuki's POV

Five days had passed since I fired Nisha, and she moved out of our house. On the same literal day. When the sun rose on the morning of the sixth day, I was awake to witness it, having fallen back into my old routine, that is, the one I had before hiring Nisha.

In other words, work, work, work, and a little more work.

Which is why I forgot that sleep existed, and was still awake, working on my laptop, in the wee hours of the morning. I closed it and yawned, stretching my right arm as my left hand massaged my forehead, trying to appease the headache that was setting in. Only then did I remember that I was still wearing my suit, so I took my tie off and tossed it on the floor, and did the same to my tuxedo. My room had become a mess, because I wasn't in the mood to clean it. Of course I would soon.

I checked the time, and seeing that it was thirty two minutes past four, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower quickly, before putting on another suit for work. Work on a Sunday, one may ask? I had nothing better to do.

After packing my bag, I headed downstairs to the kitchen, opened the cabinet that had stuff like jams and peanut butter, and stared at it. Not feeling hungry, I slammed it shut, and filled myself a glass of ice cold water, as I sat at the counter. I downed all the water in one go, but it didn't feel refreshing considering the fact that it was too cold, so I set it down on the table with so much force that I thought it would break, and then I curled my fingers in a fist around it.

I hated this. I hated that I went back to my previous lifestyle. I hated that my mask was back on, my mask of arrogance and anger. I hated that I was the one to chase my sister out of my life. I hated myse— no, I couldn't and wouldn't hate anyone, not even myself.

I slid the glass across the table away from me, but it ended up going too far that it fell off the edge of the table and onto the floor. Ignoring it, I picked my phone up again and checked the time. Seeing that it was already two minutes past five, I went into the Contacts app and called Timothy Harlin.

Yes, I managed to hire a new personal assistant in such a short time. But I didn't manage to find myself another Nisha.

"H-hello, sir?" he replied in a sleepy but scared voice.

"Timothy! Where are you?" I barked.

"..." I heard the rustling of fabric and assumed that he was getting out of bed. "I'm on my way, sir!" he squeaked.

"I'll be waiting," I told him, before hanging up.

That was the difference between Nisha and Timothy. Although eighteen and almost the same age as Nisha, Timothy was terrified of me, to the point that he trembled sometimes, and didn't tell me the truth if he thought I'd get angry at him for it.

Was I really that bad?

I assumed that it was probably because I had my mask back on.

Timothy was there fifteen minutes later and was out of breath.

"Good morning... s-sir," he stuttered, as he stepped into the passenger's seat.

"Did you run all the way?" I asked.

"Yes sir."

"Why?"

"I thought you'd fire me, sir."

"Well, you're fired then," I said, putting the key in the ignition. I watched as all the blood drained from Timothy's face, and his lips twitched, as he seemed unsure of what to say. He then shut his mouth and opened the car's door.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

He looked at me, surprised. "...I..."

"It was just a joke! Why doesn't anyone understand my jokes?" I muttered, as I pulled out of my compound before he even shut the door.