LITTLE MISS PETTY

50. SCANDALS.

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DANIEL'S P.O.V:

"Don't what? Don't say the truth?"

"David." I warned him.

"It was just a fucking dream. That was even fucked up and you were scared. It was just your fear."

"I am sincerely not in the mood to repeat the words you and Mother continuously tell me since the day you both forced it out of my mouth."

"You're not him." He reprimanded me.

"My reflection would say otherwise." I smirked with bitterness in my soul.

"You are not HIM. You are Daniel. Daniel Snow."

"Son of David Snow and President of the S.S.I. What else?" I plastered a smile his way.

"Our parents don't define us."

"I'm really not in the mood for this corny talk. I need to get...Doomsday..." I rolled my eyes at the name. "...sold by a buyer worthy of it's possession. So I need to think."

"Just so you're aware, pushing everyone away so you won't hurt them is YOU hurting them—"

"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Snow, and...Mr. Snow." The door opened and my dwarfish blonde assistant stepped in with a tray that held cups of tea. She cat-walked to the desk and slowly titled her body forward as she placed the tray on the table while showing me her well endowed chest. "Black coffee for Mr Snow here." She referred to D.J who was busy staring at her ass.

"You're a darling, Goldamiere." He said, perfectly lost in his act of perversion.

"Thank you." She giggled at him and then placed my tea in front of me. And no, you're wrong, I hate black coffee. Call me a sissy, but I was a fan of lattes instead. "Here you go, sir." She rose up her face to mine as she smiled seductively at me while she placed the cup in front of me. She 'subconsciously' touched the gold necklace hanging on her neck as the pendant stood on her revealing cleavage. "Let me turn the television on, sir?" She batted her lashes at me.

"You can go." After she did, I curtly dismissed her as my eyes turned back to my screen, nothing even waiting a little to see the disappointed look on her face. She quietly carried the tray and walked out of the office as her heels made sounds. And of course D.J turned his neck to stare more at her ass. "Women would sue you for how much you looked at them on an hourly basis." I told him.

"Hold on a second, let me call my lawyer friend — Jasemeil Dalmonte. He studied law so he should know the question I'm about to ask." D.J began dialing his number. And after four rings, the person in question unfortunately picked. "Oii, I have an out of the blue, yet important question for you. So try to remember the law you studied in school even though you're not using the bloody degree..." D.J stupidly winked at me and ventured to question his friend. "Would I get fired if I fuck my older brother's —who is technically my boss— P.A on the grounds that she has a fat arse?"

"You are a nuisance and I pity for Denzel sometimes." I bluntly told him as I shook my head.

"Yes, quite fat frankly." He crossed his legs and leaned on his chair. "And you know how I am about petite goldilocks and...Hello? Jasemeil? Are you there?" He looked at the screen of the phone and widened his eyes. "This fucker hung up on me!" His jaw dropped.

"Oh how sad, and now you will never know if you can fuck your older brother's personal assistant without getting fired and sued." I sarcastically smiled at him and he huffed me off.