Cruelle, Darling

...Temptations~Pt. 1

~Author's Note: Hello, hello!! So a heads up for all of you who are unaware: ~

*There will be a lemon in the second part, so beware or enjoy responsibly*

~I hope ya'll have fun with Part 1!!~

*Cruella=Cruelle*

There's a reason Christmas office parties are infamous for trouble, even though you've never known why. You've yet to experience one of the horror stories your friends and coworkers tell you from past jobs, and it's mainly due to the fact that you work at a very, very high-end designing company under a man with little patience for nonsense. Sure, the parties your boss throws are completely over the top, illustrious, and downright gaudy, but everyone, including yourself, are always too terrified to get even a little buzzed in case the big man himself happens to stop by-his attendance, if anything, was always a rumor rather than a guaranteed fact, which makes it that much more unnerving.

To make it worse, the theme of tomorrow's party-blame your boss and his incessant need for glitz and glamour-is "Masquerade". Considering last year's was reminiscent of Bollywood, you aren't nearly as surprised as your coworkers, mainly because you work closest to him than almost anyone else. This sounds like a good thing and by all means it should be. However, your boss is really not someone you want to be alone with for many reasons. The epitome of it is simple, really.

Your boss is Cruelle de Vil, international fashion mogul, devoted collector of furs, and the most egotistical, vain, intimidating person you've ever met.

It wasn't as though you wanted to be his favorite who sometimes doubles as his personal assistant. You actually tried to avoid being so at all costs. But ever since you were hired as a designer five months ago, his interest in you has peaked into something...indescribable, like a cross between precious pet and play thing. All your coworkers express simultaneous envy and regret for your coveted yet feared position, for it's your name alone that his piercing, sultry voice summons on a seemingly hourly basis.

No matter how many times you've ambled into his office-the "Viper's Pit", it's unofficial title-, no matter how often you're met with those chilling, arctic blue eyes that seem perpetually narrowed, that regard you with cynic, greedy amusement; no matter how many times you hear your name slither out from that devilish mouth like liquid velvet, you can't adapt, nor do you think you ever will. Cruelle has an innate upper hand around those around, especially women, for the very air around him is adulterated with his shameless, narcissistic self-confidence that's like an inescapable pheromone.

To say you had fallen prey to it from the moment you saw him would be an understatement, but you've done well to prevent him from learning of your infatuation. At least, you seriously hope so...

"Someday my prince will come," a voice sings dreamily.

You snap out of your stupor to see your coworker David posing dramatically before your desk. Laughing, you tap the end of your stylus against the tablet. "Was I daydreaming again?" you ask.

The brunette smirks and sits on your desk with his raised forefinger and thumb an inch apart. "A little bit," he says. "Same guy?"

Jesus, do I zone out that often about Cruelle that even David's noticed? "Same guy," you sigh.

"It's like you want me to be jealous," he chuckles and toys with a rubber band ball in feigned interest. Your lips scrunch into the pocket of your cheek as you withhold your usual response to his flirting. It's not that he's unattractive-he's easily one of the hottest guys you've ever worked with-but as long as this irrational crush on your boss exists, you refuse to even entertain the thought of being with another man.