"I will do it"
The most beautiful lady I have ever met walks into my office,wearing a blue mini gown hugging her curves,with a v-neck line that showed a decent amount of cleavage.
She paired it with a pair of gold drop earrings and a gold necklace...
"Thank you," I murmured to the driver who had graciously brought me home at such an ungodly hour.
I sighed as I climbed the black stone steps leading to my one-story villa, placing my thumb on the fingerprint scanner to open the door.
The house was quiet. Mindy, my housekeeper, had already been here.
The exterior of my villa was a sleek mix of grey and black, with a towering window that spanned from the roof to the floor, giving a full view of my staircase and a small fish pond surrounded by trees. Inside, to the left of the foyer, was a door leading to my study, gym, and "glam room"—my personal sanctuary for makeup, photoshoots, or content creation. To the right, the staircase led to my room, Londyn's room, a guest room, and a movie room. Beneath the stairs, a line of plants thrived in white gravel.
The lower floor's tiles were pure white, while upstairs, light brown rugs softened the spaces. The living room featured brown wood paneling, spotlights on the ceiling, grey couches with navy and white pillows, and coffee brown armchairs. Two asymmetrical coffee tables and matching side tables completed the setup.
My dining area had a white marble table and brown chairs, and it opened to an outdoor seating area with a hanging chair and firepit. The kitchen combined grey and black elements with brown high chairs and opened to an outdoor counter and grill. The backyard, my favorite spot after my bedroom and kitchen, was an oasis of black floors, dark brown furniture, a pool with a waterfall, and lush plants everywhere. Mindy had even placed a bouquet of white, purple, and lilac flowers in the dining vase—she deserved a raise.
I smiled, breathing in the calm. I loved this home, not just for its design, but for the personal space it offered. After all, I had designed it myself—and yes, I had a Master's in Architecture to back it up.
I trudged upstairs to my bedroom, the last room on the right. Shades of beige, brown, and white created a serene space, with sliding doors opening to my balcony overlooking the backyard. Behind my bed, a closet with cream shelves and built-in lights led to my bathroom, where dark brown floors met lighter brown walls. The bath, toilet, and sink were pristine white, with black faucets and open windows.
I stepped into the bath, hot water cascading over me, soothing the tension in my muscles. Forty-five minutes later, I rinsed off in the shower, dried myself, and donned a coral-colored robe.
After carefully hanging my dress, brushing my teeth, moisturizing, and slipping into a gray baggy top, I collapsed into my white sheets with the brown duvet, too tired even to pack properly for the trip tomorrow. A quick text to Kathani assured her I had arrived safely, and I surrendered to sleep.
•••
"Fuck!" I muttered, eyes snapping open to see the clock. 7 a.m. I was already an hour late for the airport.
"Shit, shit, shit," I muttered, stumbling out of bed. Yesterday's exhaustion had stolen my memory of setting the alarm, and now Mr. Walker would surely use me for breakfast... and probably lunch.
Missed calls blinked at me: Kathani, Mr. Walker, and even Leon. Leon was following us to New York, overseeing the branch visit, so he was probably furious already.
I threw on my robe, rushed into the bathroom for a quick brush of teeth, a shower, and some moisturization. "No time for a full skincare routine today," I muttered.
In the closet, I settled on a white button-up top with delicate prints on the left, puffed sleeves, jean bum-shorts, white sneakers with light pink soles, and a pink bag to match the prints. My hair stayed in yesterday's braid, accessorized simply with a gold necklace, stud earrings, knuckle rings, and bracelets.
I packed my silver suitcase with essentials for the two-day trip, including a jewelry box filled with pieces to match my outfits. The black-and-white tote doubled as my laptop bag, and with everything ready, I raced down the stairs, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge—no time to cook—and headed to my black Aston Martin in the garage.
The car roared to life, and I sped toward the airport, praying to God that nothing else would slow me down.
"Oh Lord...please save my head," I whispered as I merged into traffic, already imagining the scolding awaiting me from Mr. Walker—and Leon.
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