𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ✓ (𝟷𝟾+)

The reveal

Arin

There were certain rules that most people would break - saying no to sugar or caffeine on weekends only to break it every Monday morning. Those rules didn't harm anyone.

Then there were more profound rules. Rules made for a better existence. When those were broken, chaos ensued.

My mind remained preoccupied with the thoughts of the man who talked to me the whole night. He also became the reason for the dreadful reality that I broke my well-preserved rule - not to have phone sex with clients.

All it took was one phone call for a stranger to undo what took a whole year to build. One reckless night unraveled everything.

My overthinking only made me assume the worse of worst scenarios. My heart pounded every time our conversation revved up in my mind. The possibilities of him being a serial killer were high, higher; being a crazy stalker who might stalk me for the rest of my life.

Of course, the chances of me landing a call with a murderer or a rapist was always on the table. With my crappy luck, who else would I end up talking to? Someone rich and debonair? Pfft.

"Arin, you seem lost." Mrs. Rose's soft voice called me out.

I dragged my attention from my unblinking, non-ringing phone. I wouldn't utter it out loud to anyone but I secretly hoped for some message, at least, from the caller. The fascination to know his identity had increased leaps and bounds since hit with his generous payment.

"Sorry, Mrs. Rose...You wanted something?" Shoving the thoughts of my mystery man and my useless phone aside, I asked.

"No dear, I don't. But Mr. Murphy has a dictation for you."

In a flash, I picked up my notepad and trotted toward his office. Dragging a deep, rejuvenating breath, I knocked at his door. No reply meant - Come in. Something thrown on the door spoke for itself. I had imbibed these little things in my learning since I joined the company.

And since nothing landed on the door, I slid inside.

"Mr. Murphy...You wanted a dictation?" I addressed his straightened back while he gazed outside the window, hands resting in his pockets.

Standing near the large glass shield - one which stretched from the ceiling till the carpet - his eyes remained fixed over the fog-filled city. The cold October morning made the smog remain suspended till the sun's warmth settled it at noon.

Walking towards my dictation chair, I settled in, awaiting him to dictate. After a couple of silent minutes where I could hear my ears ring up my pulse, I decided to do something. It was unlike Roger to not talk and get done with things.

However, today seemed different.

He didn't speak. He stood still, observing the world outside as if a dragon flew past him.

Assuming he had a standing stroke, I tossed a pen on the carpet.

The sound was loud enough to lift him out of his trance. It also confirmed he wasn't having a stroke.

Clearing my throat I looked up, knowing he will start his dictation.

Instead, I saw him roll his white sleeves which hugged his biceps and slid back in his chair. With his eyebrows bridged together, he scanned me with his icy cold eyes. "You wanted something?"