The Business of Revenge

Jealous Intentions

"Why do you ask?" The problem with implementing a sort of test where you assumed the person being questioned would lie is that you didn't think that far ahead. I had no idea what to say now.

"Oh um, well we're friends, just thought you should know. I mentioned this crazy proposition and she knew you well, which I mean small world right?"

I was rambling, I was nervous, and I didn't know why.

"Not particularly, I already knew that you were friends," he said so casually as though it wasn't incredibly weird for him to know so much about me.

"I mean- what-how?" I sputtered.

"I make sure that I know all about my prospective employees,"

"You've been planning this for a while haven't you Mr Emerson, it wasn't an accident that you were in that restaurant on the day I was left in charge, so tell me," I leaned forward bracing my hands against his desk, "How long has this been going on?"

"A while," he drawled as though it was completely normal.

"And how long is a while?"

"Two and a half years,"

I was stunned, my heart was in my throat, "Two and a half years? But that- but that was before we even broke up."

"I am fully aware," he began to look back at his computer, completely ignoring my very existence.

"Care to explain?"

"It was no secret the affair that Niklaus Artymov was having. Everyone knew."

"Everyone apart from me I guess," I spoke bitterly, my cheeks flushing, as I felt incredibly stupid. Though a part of me had always known about his unfaithfulness, I had tricked myself into not believing because how could I, I had the perfect life?

Ignorance is bliss after all.

"So, everyone knew I was a fool."

"No. Not everyone."

And he didn't elaborate and that made me feel worse because he thought I was an idiot. He knew I was nothing more than a silly girl who had been so enamoured that she couldn't even comprehend that her fiancé was cheating on her.

"So, what's the plan?" I pushed the words out of my mouth.

"The plan? The plan should be arriving right-" he paused a moment staring at his watch which I was sure cost more than a year's rent for me, "Now."

And in burst the last man I ever wanted to see.

"What the fuck is this?"

No.

He didn't.

He hadn't.

I had never turned around faster in my life, my face fell, my lips twisting into a scowl. My heart was going to burst through my chest.

"What the hell are you doing here Drea?"

"Ah, Mr Artymov I assume you have met my assistant Andrea Laurence?"

"Your assistant?" he snarled, his eyes taking over me in a look that was cold and blistering yet still full of unmatched anger. I couldn't speak, I hadn't seen or heard from him since that day.

Everything was coming back to me in full force.

You're nothing without me.

I usually could speak freely, I had convinced myself if we ever crossed paths again, I would give him a piece of my mind, rip him a new one, take away that frightened thank you, I had given, I was different now. I was, wasn't I?

So why couldn't I speak a damn word?

Mr Emerson had a sly smirk, and I froze when he circled his desk and stood beside me, so very close, and there it was that scent of mixed spices like the fresh scent of forest just after autumn rain. He was close and I could feel his arm encircle me, though his skin never touched mine, it was only our clothes in contact with one another.

Niklaus stared at us, fury in his eyes, and I knew he was primed to explode, the look of malice wicked in his eyes, but Corbyn Emerson was not affected.

"Yes, haven't you heard? Andrea Laurence is back in the corporate world, a valuable asset to Emerson Industries?"

An asset? I mean I'll take it, even if I was a glorified assistant.

"I don't think you understand Corbyn," Niklaus spat with all the reverence of a priest performing an exorcism, "You cannot hire her. No one can. No one but me."

It was at that moment, my voice decided it had had enough.

"Excuse me?" his eyes snapped to me, in a look that was scalding, and calculating all at once, "Who are you to say who can hire me or not?"

"I assure you the past year should have taught you better Drea."

"Don't call me that. And haven't you done enough? I'm moving on."

I was stoking the fire with a papery smile that was just more fuel to be ignited. I would burn him to the ground, the rage in me was probably tenfold what he was thinking.

After all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

And Niklaus Artymov had scorned me.

"Moving on? Did what we have, mean nothing to you, that you would go to bed with my enemy?"

I stormed over to him, disconnecting myself from Mr Emerson, a deathly look spreading across my features, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you calling me a whore? I'm sorry but you must be confusing yourself with me because that's what you are. Or have you forgotten about your little bout of infidelity? Do you think I just go around collecting powerful men in my pocket? You have some fucking nerve Nik," I used his nickname just to rub salt into the wound.

He stared at me, dumbfounded I would like to believe. But that didn't last long, he grasped my wrist and my heart, a clench of strong fingers that were unrelenting, "You think I've forgotten? I think about you every, day Drea, I can't get you out of my head. You pushed me to the edge, I needed release,"

"Wow," I laughed humourlessly, "So it's my fault? Let go of me, you arse."

He didn't his grip tightened, "I'm going to tell you this once Drea, you don't know Emerson like I do, you don't know what he will do to you-"

"Can't be worse than what you've done to me. At least he doesn't care about your bullshit blacklist, he hired me off of my merit alone," a stretch of the truth but not fully a lie, "And you can't stand it. That someone would hire me when you made sure that I was an untouchable thing. The power's gone now hasn't it Nik, you can't control me anymore and it's killing you. And I won't ask you again, let me go."

There was danger in my eyes, pools of darkness that hopped to overcome the blue of his eyes, drowning him until his pale skin was bloated and unrecognisable. I had murder on my mind, and I wasn't ashamed of it. This interaction entirely had riled me up beyond belief, my hatred for Niklaus Artymov was given new life.

And it all came to a stop when he pulled me forward, I crashed into his chest and he wouldn't let me go, I felt my heart thundering, threatening to thrust itself out of my body and smash into a bloody mess on the floor.

He glared at me, eyes alight with malevolence, "Listen here, Drea, you'll come back you always do. And that is a promise," he leaned forward, and I knew what was about to happen, I had seen it coming and wrenched my hand from his grip not waiting to slap him across the face so hard his face turned to the side, and my nail had caught the edge of his lip drawing blood.

He was stunned into silence and there was an icy look on my face.

"Touch me again and your face will be unrecognisable."

And then with all the conviction, I could muster.

"And that is a promise."