The Billionaire's Mask (Book #1) - Unedited Version

Chapter 4

ALAYNA

I quietly follow Madam Lennie as we stroll through the corridor I haven't walked before. I can't help but overthink about my situation. I suddenly want to speak with Oliver to apologize and probably ask him to help me with his cousin. I don't want to lose the job.

But how do I get away with this? How is it possible that I don't have to see him be able to talk to him? What's the point of talking to me if he would fire me, anyway? Though I remember that he has every reason to. In the past weeks, I tried improvising dishes and sending him notes. Maybe he's already fed up by me.

We stop by another wooden sculptured door.

"The Master shall speak with you inside. You don't need to knock. You'll find a white door upon getting in. Open the door and sit on the chair provided." Her face is stone-cold, she is looking at space, and avoiding my eyes. How she explained it makes me feel like I'm visiting a prisoner.

I did what I'm told. There might be a chance I wouldn't get fired if I obey quietly.

Madam Lennie's stolid face vanishes slowly when she closes the door.

I'm surprised that the entrance looks sunny as I find the white door Madam Lennie is referring to. It's probably the simplest door inside the mansion, it's flat white without any carving nor designs, only the silver doorknob. I slowly open it with my already sweaty palm.

I gasp at the sight I see. Another medium-sized empty room appears in front of me. There is nothing on the walls, and everything is also painted in white, except for a computer and a telephone placed on a glass table.

The entire room is giving me chills. It's like an interrogation room for criminals. During the moment, I confirm that the Master isn't normal. He's a weirdo.

Why would he put something like this in his house? Then I remember what Oliver told me before. He asked me not to freak out. Is this what he meant by that now?

The telephone on the desk abruptly rings.

"Oh my God!" I yelp in surprise. I touch my chest, for my heart is pounding abnormally. All I could think about is to run. Run for my life. How is this won't freak me out?

"Answer the phone and sit," a cold, stern voice suddenly speaks loudly. I look up and find a large implanted speaker in the gray-colored ceiling.

God. This is creepy. I swallow. If I could only chew my nervousness like a delicious meal, I'd have a happy stomach.

"I believe I told you to sit," he says again, and honestly, his voice doesn't sound eerie at all. It even sounds... melodious.

But realization takes over me. How does he know I'm sitting?

Oh, no. He can see me. He can see how nervous and afraid I am.

I slowly walk toward the chair and sit down. I blow out a deep breath.

"Now, place the telephone on your ear so I could hear you speak," he instructs.

Hesitantly, I reach for the white wireless telephone, then place it on my ear.

"Hello?"

"Good girl." The voice is still coming from the speakers and not on the telephone. I look up again. This is getting more and more strange.

Is this man the famous and the Billionaire Chairman Brandon Lucien? I'm beginning to have a doubt. What if he is really some psychotic man who murders—

No, no. He can't be that. I'm sure I entered the right house. It's Oliver Katrakis, the CEO of Grethe and Elga Enterprises whom I worked with the past month—which means this man over the phone is indeed the faceless Chairman everyone speaks about and the man who answered my notes. I probably watched too many horror films.