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I hate this. Oh I despise it. This feeling, this day, this music and this fucking limp legged Christmas tree that taunts me from my window.

So many employees and all of them are proving themselves to be nothing more than incapable. All For morale.

For fucking blue elephant.

Truth be told, I could give less of a shit what the Daily Bugle says about me or my company. I could, but not Jessica Drew. Not my right hand. That's why there is that stupid music, that pathetic tree and that is exactly why I have been forced to stuff red, silk handkerchiefs in my pocket.

All my girls respect me, but Jessica? They worship her. She's the epitome of the perfect boss to weak minded people.

And fucking Jessica wants to sit in a circle and trade presents with our employees. Just the thought makes my fingers curl, hand balled into an intolerant first.

Presents. It makes me think of lilac, of Lacy.

Lacy is a smart girl, one of my smartest actually. And instead of being buried deep inside of her, using my dick to try and find the spark that once captivated me within her, I, the CEO of my own fucking company have to entertain the persistent brat downstairs.

No puedo más, no puedo más. No. Puedo. Más.

huff out an annoyed breath and stand, a minute longer where I brood in my seat and I'll leave the hire to interview herself. I busy myself with gazing out of my floor to ceiling glass. New York greets me like a betrayed brother, icy and bitter. All of the city is strung with icicle lights and nauseating colors for the holiday. So loud and happy, so infuriating.

My reflection mirrors me, cold and in charge— as it should always be. Yet today, today doesn't feel like it. Today, I have to cater to stupid Cindy Moon and the fact that she's incapable of being wrong. No Lacy, no sleep.

I never do, anyways.

Time passes slow as I wait, as I gaze out into my city from my castle. Jessica calls my leather seat a throne, and it couldn't be more fitting.

An agonizing gathering of fleeting moments before I hear Cindy Moon's heels clicking to the rhythm of whatever the fuck is playing on that radio. There are more footsteps beside her, but those are much less graceful.

Must be the girl.

Great.

I wait for the knob to turn, I wait to be over with this. I have no intentions of taking her on, none at all. I'll let her down cordially for sake of morale and I'll find Lacy and get to the bottom of why I don't feel her anymore.

Not in the way you feel passion when you fuck, no. The excitement, the reminder with each stroke that you're alive. You don't have to search for it anymore... but it always fades, and onto the next muñequita that makes my dick stand.

But fucking Lacy. So pretty in her Lilac with those big blue eyes. I thought she'd last longer. She's too sweet to get rid of so early.

My clock is taunting me, my patience running thinner as I turn and narrow my eyes at the halted shadows under the oak door. Slowing my breathing, I listen. Are they whispering?

Cindy Moon, warning the new hire about me.

I shake my head and take a moment to adjust my silken pocket. Alright, I'll play generous for the holiday season and walk slower to my oak door. I'll give them a chance to come inside, to respect me.

One step closer, and closer, two more strides and I've reached it. And they? They're still playing school girl on the other side.

I tug the door open with brute force, prepared to spit a sarcastic insult at little Cindy Moon who has gotten very close to being fired far too many times today.

Miguel O'Hara x You | Silken Webs & Pirouettes Where stories live. Discover now