The Rich Life

7

On Monday I went to my new workplace. I was dressed in a black skirt that reached just below my thighs and a blue silk blouse with matching heels. Red lipstick looked like blood against my pale skin. A black cat-eye rimming my golden eyes. My wild hair now sleek and shiny, tied up in a high ponytail. A Chanel bag on my shoulder. I smiled as I stepped through the gleaming glass doors. This was my new life now.

The apartment I was living in was bright and airy with white walls. It was owned by my primary school friend and she sold it to me. To find an apartment in this area in NYC took years. TAnd it was huge. 

I was introduced to hundreds of people. My Boss, Mr Rosen, seemed keen to show me off. He kept announcing, "Here is our new star of the law firm: Amara Mughal. Treat her with respect and don't let her age fool you. She is one of the sharpest minds in the country,"

But he didn't show me to my office yet. Huh, that was weird.

"This is Leanne. She's your PA, an intern. You'll get a new one every year," He explained. Leanne was super pretty but incredibly fast apparently. She was 21 years old and was studying medicine.

"Hello Ms Mughal. It'll be a pleasure to work with you," She said, showing off a pearly white smile.

"Please, no need with the formalities. Call me Amara," I shook her hand firmly. Mr Rosen hurried me on into his office. Ok, this was getting weirder with every second. I hadn't been shown my office or talked with my personal assistant long enough. And my introductions had been rushed.

His office was opulent and splendid. There was a huge oil painting of the founder above his desk, surrounded in a gilt frame. A huge oak table with chairs dominated the room. Then there, sitting on one of the leather chairs in his office, was the man I never thought I'd see again. I screamed internally in my head, in frustration. I was ready to walk out. But Mr Rosen pushed me in further and sat on his desk. I heard all that angel music when I walked into Worthington's stop abruptly with a screech. Damn it this was supposed to be like walking through heaven, not fucking purgatory.

"I'm sorry Miss Mughal for putting you in the deep end of things, but Mr Dervishi has requested you by name. I couldn't refuse him!" He said, gesturing next to me. I did not DARE look into eyes not again. Mr Rosen laughed heartily, "I know you specialise in corporate law but I know you also have specialisms in family law. Mr Dervishi needs a lawyer to help smooth things over with a divorce to his wife, Maribelle. I'll leave you alone in my office and then we'll discuss fees later hm?"

Mr Rosen strolled out of his office, still in his bouncy mood, humming. As soon as I heard the door click, I turned on Adam. He looked so fucking hot but I can't let that distract me.

"WHAT THE FUCK? by NAME Adam? Out of all the lawyers here. Why me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice low. I got up from the chair, filled with nervous energy. I leaned against the wall. It feels like I'm purposefully asking for this headache. This headache who makes me weak in my knees. He followed me and trapped in front of the wall. Great. Fucking fabulous. I looked down, ignoring his chest that was just right up in my face.

"I'm not sure about the Adam you met in Dubai but he's gone now, You're meeting the real me. The real me you need to show respect to. And showing me disrespect will get you fucked over. Interpret that how you must, but a smart girl like yourself knows what I mean," He smirked his fingers tracing over my collarbone and down my shoulder leaving an ice-cold touch that was so freezing it burned.

I stayed silent, my soft and short breaths speeding up. Adam caressed my thighs, reaching up to my opening. Then his hand went right down to my knees again. Don't let him notice that your wet Zahra, I swear to god-