Brandon Stevens, a business tycoon who owns the largest business empire in the country has the good looks, immeasurable wealth, and the rock hard body that could melt the hearts of any woman. Running his company in a territorial fashion and having a...
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[Brandon's POV]
At Stevens Empire
A footman hastily held the car door open as I hopped out of my latest model of Mercedes Benz. I bought it last week and disposed my old one. I had this addiction with the latest. Only cars. Suddenly feeling choked, I reached for my tie and loosened it, breathing air into my nostrils down to my lungs. I felt uneasy, an ominous feeling that suggested an upcoming of bad event.
"Good morning Mr. President." The footman half-bowed. I answered his greeting with a small nod, and trod forward and up the three-step stairs leading to the company entrance. He drove my car out of the drive into the parking underground of the building.
An entourage awaited me by the rotating door. Dough Fisher, my trusted right hand with the other managers from different departments stood there waiting. Their faces a mask of anxiety.
"Good morning Mr. Stevens," A simultaneous greeting welcomed me. As I entered the parlor with my men following my tracks, I breathed with pride.
Stevens Empire.
The fruit of my hard work. I could almost taste the success in my mouth. Stevens Empire was the main office of all the business I operated. From lending business, hotel and restaurant, manufacturing, and construction. I worked so hard to be in the position where I was now. The most eligible bachelor in the country, the wealthiest and the most crooked one too. Nobody dared to defy Brandon Stevens.
The Empire's floor as shiny as the head of a bald man, the lobby not a scrape of dust, every hotel staff dressed in a a sophisticated formal gray uniform revealing not an inch of white rosy feminine flesh. Their calves hidden in the thick panty hose stockings whereas the men sported suits. Only Britney among the employees was authorized to strip down in my office. Privately.
My eyes scanned the surroundings, keen for the smallest mistake. As I passed through the information desk every head bent down to show respect to the man I was. I felt the authority that fueled my nerves.
I was a perfectionist. There's no denying about that. A simple incompetence could vex me, ruin my mood, and could cost one's job.Fortunately I hadn't fired a worker for about five days now, if I remembered it right. That's something.
I could smell fear in the air. They were all immensely tensed as I passed by the row of hotel staff. Capturing something I disapproved, I stopped abruptly. There was a collective holding of breath. As I turned, the soles of my shoes were the only sound in the huge lobby.
"Give me your name." I stared down at her. Slowly, the girl looked up.Her eyes were wide, her stature too short, her body too fleshy to be attractive, and locks of greasy hair flying lose from her supposed to be tidy bun.
