Temptress

4|Imposter

Sereia's POV

I silently stood beside him as we waited for the elevator to reach ground level.

I didn't attempt to smile as he saw right through me.

I really need to work harder on my smile.

What if everyone else thought it was straight bullshit like he did?

I grabbed my wrist and began to squeeze it.

I was overthinking again. I can't overthink.

I'm at work for crying out loud.

Sweat trickled down my face as the urge to get high crossed my mind.

I'm a hypocrite to myself, trying to hide the junkie that I am.

My mother would laugh in my face if she knew how I was feeling.

My fingers began to fidget and I immediately grabbed them.

Why is this happening to me now?

Why did I let him get to my head about my dumb smile?

Who cares?

"Ms. Sinclair?" his voice broke me from my diseased thoughts.

He was now in the elevator keeping the door open for me. "Are you climbing the stairs again?"

"No," I shook my head as I walked in and stood beside him.

I barely managed yesterday. My thighs still burn.

Now in my current state, I don't even think I would make it past the first flight of stairs.

The doors closed and I wiped the sweat from my face.

I'm a drug addict.

Violet didn't die for me to be a drug addict.

My lips began to quiver and I quickly bit them as I held in my tears.

I could sense him looking down on me so I quickly turned my head away.

I need to be angry now and stay strong. I need to ruin the life of the woman who ruined Violet's.

Finally, the doors opened and we both stepped out to meet whispers.

Olivia was quick to meet us.

"What's going on?" he asked his wife.

"Frank failed his drug test," she said and my heart dropped.

He looked down at me. "Take care of it."

My heart started beating faster.

Me?

"Honey, I already am," she told him, jealous that he gave me the order and not her. "I've already called the security."

"Okay," he told her before looking at me again. "I need you to organize more of these random drug tests. People are getting too comfortable here."

I felt weak in the knees.

I was just considering getting high at work. What was I thinking?

I need to gather the information I need and get the hell out of here.

"Ms. Sinclair," he called my name, his tone pissed to the highest degree.

I turned to look at him.

"Is that understood?" he asked sternly and I nodded.

His facial expression grew angrier.

"Yes sir," I answered when I realized he wanted me to say it.

He gave me an annoyed look before walking away.