Fifty Shades of Sasuke [Sasuke Uchiha X Reader]

Chapter Four

"I'm a very private person, Miss [Surname]. I go a long way to protect my privacy, I don't often give interviews . . ." Mr. Uchiha's voice brings me out of my thoughts. He is looking at me with a cold expression and I bite my lower lip. He is intimidating.

"Then why did you agree to do this one?" 

"Because I'm a benefactor of the school, and for all intents and purposes, I couldn't get Miss [Surname] off my back. She badgered and badgered my PR people, and I admire that kind of tenacity." 

I sweat-drop knowing my mother and her tenacious behavior. She is stubborn and her spirit is unbreakable. My mum can talk a lot when she wants to, and her persuasiveness is some kind of super-power. Woman of Steel! When I so think back, dad always used to tell me stories about his and mum's high school time. She even persuaded my father to break up with his girlfriend to go with her on prom. I could need such power either. . . then I maybe wouldn't sit here squirming uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze. If it wasn't my mother, I would be at home studying for my upcoming exams.

"You also invest in farming technologies. Why are you interested in this area?"

"We cannot eat money, Miss [Surname], and there are too many people on this planet who don't have enough to eat." 

"That sounds very philanthropic. Is it something you feel passionately about? Feeding the worlds poor?"  Maybe he isn't so bad after all.

The raven haired man shrugs noncommittally.

"It's screwed business," he murmurs, though I think he's being disingenuous. It doesn't make sense - feeding the world's poor? There is no financial benefit, only the virtue of the ideal. There must be something that gives this man, an arrogant and rich one, the impetus to help. Either this or he has a kind side he usually does not show random people. But then again, why not? 

I glance at the next question pushing my thoughts away. I am still wondering who these people in the picture are. Maybe his teacher and class mates. And who is this girl.They seem close . . .

"Do you have a philosophy? If so, what is it?" 

"I don't have a philosophy as such. Maybe a guiding principle - Carnegie's: 'A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possession of anything else  to which he is justly entitled.' I'm very singular, driven. I like control - of myself and those around me." Why am I thinking he means me? This man . . . he gives me this rough smirk. [Surname], get a grip!

"So you want to possess things?" You are a control freak.

"I want to deserve to possess them, but yes, bottom line, I do." 

"You sound like the ultimate consumer."

"I am." He smiles, but it doesn't touch his eyes. Those onyx like eyes are so, mysterious? I swallow hard. It's like the temperature is rising in this room, or maybe it's just me. This interview is very nerve killing and I just want it to be over. Surely mum has enough material now. Or maybe not. Only the next two or three questions then I'll stop. Yes, that's a good plan. I glance at the next question. I am not really caring what it's about, I just need to ask the question.

"You were adopted. How much do you think that's shaped the way you are?" Shit! This is personal. I stare at him, hoping he's not offended. His brow furrows. Great job, [Name]!

"I have no way of knowing." 

My interest is piqued. "How old were you when you were adopted."

"That's a matter of public record, Miss [Surname]."His tone is stern, very stern. Crap. Yes, of course - if I'd known I was doing  this interview, I would have done some research, I guess . . . Flustered, I move on quickly.