◤𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕪◢ - It Started With Vomit!

Chapter 3 | Who Hurt You?

"Honey?!"

My eyes twitch at just the thought.

What the f*ck was going on in there? I know I told Tails to bring her here by any means possible, but he knows all too well this strategy was touched on for a reason:

It was off-limits!!!

This is no good. I'm no house rat avoiding a cheese trap. If I want to know exactly what's going on in there, I'll just have to make a statement with my entrance. It is my office after all.

"S-shadow! I mean, Mr. Hedgehog."

"Mr. Fox," I greet, upon entry.

"This is not what it looks like!"

"Oh, I'm sure it's not."

It looked more like I'd interrupted her blatant attempt of a sexually induced interrogation. Poor Miles looked more scared than aroused. But then that would beck the question of what Rose was trying to achieve.

I cover more area with my eyes, picking up on how she practically caved him into the chair's skeleton, exerting her body on Tails' with her voluptuous chest.

Her chest...

Her chest...

Her chest...

Those words rang in my head like a serpent melody, riling up my blood.

"Go. Now," I command, to which Miles obeys.

He immediately removes Rose from off him and exits the room, then I walk over to my desk to gather the secretary contracts I'd prepared the night before.

"Mr. Hedgehog," Rose whistles.

"Ah," I stop in my tracks, eager to lock eyes with hers. But there was no need to search them any further than their demeanour showed; a desert emptiness.

Her eyes were nothing like the ones that broke down my defences with its glimmer. The ones she fed me ever so carelessly in grade school, the ones that made my heart run marathons, the ones that formed emerald crescents with her creased eyes and made her cheeks glow an irresistible rose pink. ironically.

That smile she wore with all its quirks being lifted in a stretcher after ingesting too much sand looked at me with resentment written all over her features. What's happened to her? Even at our initial encounter, she seemed to be releasing pent up anger at me.

"Miss Rose," I greet, indifferently, burying my head back into my files. Maybe this ordeal wouldn't work out after all. "I'll simply brief over these terms with you," I say, handing her a copy of the documents, "To get a general sense of things. I'm sure you must be curious about the depths of its terms, so I'll allow you a day to ponder."

"Hmm," she mutters. I peak up to decipher her face.

She seems disinterested.

"I want you as my secretary, in place of Mr. Fox."

She scoffs.

"I found your resume quite trivialized and felt the need to push you to your full potential. I've provided benefits from this program, which by the way, is exclusive to you. It's yet to be given out to other competent employees, so yes, this is a trail which you happen to shoulder first." I'm looking her dead in the eyes this time.

"As you already know, this cooperation has already made headway in international markets and having interned here will be strong on your records."

I flip to page three.

"Unlike practical, stationary secretaries, you won't just be booking my meetings, answering my calls, making photocopies, and moulding my schedules. I expect you to be at my side for as many working hours legal. I expect you to be with me at meetings and business outing. Whenever I step out of my office, you should be packed up and ready to leave with me at the reception. No exceptions. No excuses."