Marry Me, Mr. Sanders!

SANDERS CORP.

SAM

A month had passed before I decided to return. I stayed in South Korea for my reconstructive surgery. I need to get back on track. I have missions to complete.
"Why are you removing your coat? It's still cold," said Lance, who has been my bodyguard and PA for several years. People often mistake him for my boyfriend, and I just let them think that.
"We're in the Philippines now, pumpkin," I affectionately said. I call him pumpkin, and it annoys him. In just a few minutes, the plane we were on would land.
"Why didn't you have that scar on your back removed?" he said with a frown, looking out the window. We could already see the entire airport. I was sure my return would be trending again.
As the plane landed, Lance placed the coat over my back. I didn't say anything, not wanting to argue. He acts like my father when he's angry. I can't blame him sometimes, considering how stubborn I can be. I owe him a lot. If it weren't for him, I'd probably be long gone. He was the one who found me at the cliff, thanks to the tracking app he put on my phone. He took care of me, and until now, he's still the one helping me with all my decisions, even though we often don't agree.
I'm wearing white high-waist pants with a crop top. Even though this is one of the most decent outfits I've worn since becoming a model, it still couldn't hide my very fit body. Because of this, I've been dubbed the "Kylie Jenner of the Philippines." I'm very disciplined when it comes to taking care of my body. Before my accident, I went to the gym three times a week to maintain my figure.
No one knew I was returning today, so there were no reporters or paparazzi waiting at the airport.
"Sanders Corp," I said to the driver when we were inside the car.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, it's time to see my fiancé. I miss him," I suddenly laughed out loud.
"You're crazy, Nathe," Lance said, shaking his head.
"We've talked about this already, Lance. Please," I said seriously to him.
"Fine." He raised one hand in surrender.

SANDERS CORP.
This is what's written on the 30-floor building in front of me now. It's my first time stepping foot in this building. Whatever awaits me now, I know I can confidently handle it. Lance didn't come with me because he didn't like my whims. He was against all my plans now, but he couldn't do anything because he knew what I was going through.
I entered the building still wearing my Gucci butterfly sunglasses and my coat. I confidently walked into the lobby, not caring if I drew attention. Some might recognize me and were probably shocked by my sudden appearance. I went straight to the receptionist.
"Miss, can I talk to Mr. Knoxx Sanders?" I said with a smile to the receptionist, who smiled back.
"Good morning, ma'am. I'm sorry, but now, Mr. Sanders is currently in a board meeting. Do you have an appointment, ma'am? You can wait in the lobby outside his office."
"I don't have an appointment with Mr. Sanders, but can you please inform him about my arrival?" I smiled politely.
"I'm really sorry, ma'am, but we're not allowed to disturb him while he's in a meeting. That's our protocol here," she said hesitantly.
"How long does the meeting take?" I asked her, still not removing my sunglasses.
"Usually 2-3 hours, ma'am, and one hour has already passed," she smiled, albeit unsure.
"Can't I wait inside his office?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but only a few are allowed inside the boss's office. May I know your name, ma'am?" she asked.
It seemed Sanders had trust issues. Not just anyone could enter his office.
"I'm..." I was about to introduce myself when someone suddenly approached.
"Wooowww, look who's here," the person said excitedly, as if pleased to see me. He was smiling from ear to ear. He must be one of my fans and probably had saved photos of me on his phone. "Jenny, it's okay, dear. I got you," he said, turning to the receptionist, who suddenly acted cute. The woman smiled back, clearly showing they had something going on. Based on the man's appearance, he didn't seem to be an ordinary employee.
"By the way, I'm Carl Medrano, the operations manager of Sanders Corp," he introduced himself, extending his hand. Out of respect, I shook his hand, but instead of shaking it, he kissed the back of my hand. "Samantha Nathalia Portman. We've been waiting for you."
"How'd you know my name?" I asked, puzzled.
He laughed out loud, and people in the building started looking our way.
"Who doesn't know you? The most followed celebrity on IG? And I'm one of your followers," he added.
I smiled at him and removed my sunglasses. "It's a great honor."
"I think I know your intention for coming here. This way, please," he said, gesturing toward the elevator. Though hesitant, I still followed him. Most of what he said didn't register in my mind. He talked too much. Based on his words, he was used to women. And he was flirting with me.
The elevator doors opened, and we entered an office. It was grand, large, and clearly belonged to someone important. All the equipment was high-tech. The office was located on the top floor, overlooking the big city and the ocean.
"Welcome to my office," he said, looking at me. "Just kidding. Suit yourself. Have a seat," he offered. Instead of sitting on the couch, I walked straight to the glass table.
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked Carl, looking him straight in the eye.
"Because I knew you were coming," he replied. "I know what you're up to, Miss Portman," he said bluntly. I smiled at him seductively as I slowly sat in the executive chair.
"Oops, don't you dare do that."
"And why?" I spun the chair to face the window.
"What the hell is going on here?" yelled a man who had just entered.
"Bro, I think you need to know something," Carl explained, his voice trembling. I turned the chair back to face them. I wasn't wrong—it was him again. He was still as handsome as the last time I saw him.
"What are you doing here? I don't remember inviting you. Get the hell out of here!" he yelled, stepping closer to the table and glaring at me. The anger in his eyes hadn't faded. He hated me with a passion. "Before I drag you out, first, get the hell out of my chair!"
"Easy, Sanders," I smiled evilly, not showing any weakness in front of him. I stood up from the chair, pretending to surrender to him. "It's not like I'll eat your precious executive chair." I moved closer to him—in fact, so close that our faces were nearly touching. "Because right now, you're the one I want to eat," I whispered to him, winking at Carl, who stood behind him, trying to stifle his laughter.