BETHEL

3

"Excuse me, does this house belong to Mrs. Clara?" he asked.

A tall, muscular man with dark brown hair and gray eyes looked at me with a confused expression. He looked decent in a black suit and had nice features.

"Uhm, no. This is my house. The one beside mine is hers though," I replied with a smile.

He nodded, expressing a little gratitude before leaving me at the door. I was guessing that was Mrs. Anthony's son.

Closing my door, I got a message from Debs saying something urgent had come up at her parents' house, so she couldn't make it. That being said, I went to bed early.

The shrill sound of the alarm clock pierced the quiet of the early morning, jolting Bethel awake. She groaned, rolling over and hitting the snooze button one last time before reluctantly getting out of bed.

As she rushed through her morning routine, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. It was as if a storm was brewing, and she was caught in the eye of it.

By the time she arrived at work, she was already running late. Her boss, Malin, was waiting for her at the entrance, her arms crossed and her face scrunching up in disapproval.

"You're late again, Bethel," Malin scolded. "I expect you to be more punctual. Now, get to work."

Bethel apologized and hurried to clean the first aisle. As she worked, she couldn't help but think about the strange encounter with the mysterious man the day before. It had left her feeling unsettled and intrigued.

Just as she was finishing up the first aisle, Malin approached her again. "Hurry it up, Bethel," she barked. "We have a lot to get done today."

Bethel nodded and quickly moved on to the next aisle. As she worked, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She glanced around nervously, but there was no one in sight.

Suddenly, she felt a cold draft on her neck. She turned around, her heart pounding, but there was nothing there. Just the empty aisles of the cinema stretching out before her.

As she continued cleaning, she tripped over her own feet, losing her balance and falling to the ground. The mop flew out of her hands and landed at the feet of a tall, muscular man who had just entered the cinema.

Bethel scrambled to her feet, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," she stammered, reaching for the mop.

The man, who she recognized as the son of Mrs. Anthony, simply smiled. "It's quite alright," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "No need to apologize."

But Malin had a different reaction. "What are you doing? Get that mop off Mr. Anthony's shoe! It's a Louis Vuitton!" she scolded, her voice rising.

Bethel quickly apologized and began to clean the shoe, her cheeks burning with shame.

Mr. Anthony, however, intervened. "That's quite alright," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "No need to be so harsh."

Kneeling down, he gently took her hand and helped her up. As he did so, he leaned in close and whispered, "I don't want to smell your stench crossing my path again."

The words were harsh, but there was a hint of something else in his tone, a veiled threat that sent a shiver down her spine.

The other executives watched the scene with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. To them, Mr. Anthony's actions seemed kind and considerate. But Bethel knew the truth. His words were a warning, a reminder of his power and authority.

As he turned to leave, she watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never felt such a strange mix of fear and attraction before.

The night of the encounter in the cinema, as Bethel was preparing for bed, she checked her email. To her astonishment, she found a notification that she had an interview the following day with a well-respected, high-profile company called "Drales Cop." Intrigued and hopeful, she accepted the interview, eager for a fresh start.