Ascent - Passion's Paradox - VOL.1

.08. Neferu NepTet

Of the few face-to-face conversations I had with my father, he told me these words most often: "Reaching the top is a competition: it's sink or swim. Shut your mouth and work. There's no time to rest or breathe. Every day you pick up other people's shit, with no one to thank you. But there comes a time when all these assholes realize that they need you. It's by getting close to them that you see what no one sees. It's by playing their right hand that they'll let go of their best asset, and that's when they'll realize who the real boss is."

The moral is simple: you slam as hard as you can, harder than anyone else and never stop; because it's by learning from the best from the bottom that you get the position you choose. And mine will be as a boss. For every day I will have worked harder than Satan himself tries to work on others. I will have proven my worth and on that day I will have gotten the place I deserve. Because only the boss's place is worthy of my value.

But there is one thing that will always be my fault: keeping my mouth shut. If my father thinks that I should play it low profile and catch them off guard without saying anything, I prefer to warn them but always surprise them. It's easy when nobody expects anything from you. It's definitely easy when they think you're your secretary when you're higher than them, or too close for them to notice. In fact? It's just easy to surprise a man when you're a woman, and even more so if you're the heiress of a big family because nobody will take you more seriously than if you were born a boy. They will only see the Louboutins you spend but not the sweat you put on every night.

And they don't need to see them, as long as they reap what they sow.

- Please Neferu, you can't do this to me, a voice grumbles horribly in my ears and makes me cringe.

But what I hate most in this company are the women who have the means to prove to the men that they are the best, but don't do it and would rather whine every week for an extension on their deadlines. Specifically Morgana who I know well. They miss out on a good opportunity to put some of them in their place rather than chasing after late paintings. In fact, instead, they like to spend more time like Meredith leering at Lawson Marshall at the private gym right next to Mergery every fourteen hours on her break rather than getting moving. I have to admit that the erotic sight of Lawson's sweaty body being sponged by his towel is not sensitive to anyone, or of the evening when his shirt in the color of the day is soaked with the sweat of his work, revealing his pecs. But she doesn't come before work.

Tiffany would probably kill me for the number of times I repeated the word "work.

"Can you give me another delay?" Morgana begs in my ear.

My face doesn't twinkle and I don't want to show any expression of pity or sympathy for her. It is not my style and she does not deserve it. Morgana loves to gossip downstairs with the other employees about how stiff I am, but just because she is a woman doesn't mean I would pass on her neglect. The good of the company is paramount.

"Absolutely not! Do your job like everyone else. I don't think I've given Josh or your colleagues any special treatment. If you can't balance your personal life with your professional life, then go away. Jarod? Where's my coffee?"

"Here you go!" Jarod finally arrives with my coffee, which he hands me.

He tends to spend more time in front of the TV in the interview room than at his desk, and at this rate I'm going to put him back in his place very quickly. As for Morgana, she stamps her foot and leaves with a disgruntled grumble once again. I don't know what she expected. In the two years she's been here, I've never given in, and it won't happen tomorrow. She can gossip about me, but my reputation as Satan around here is not new and I actually like it. If they call me that, then I'm doing my job well enough.