The Playboy's Wicked Revenge (Major editing In Progress)

9: Office

Sia

Sia! Sia, wake up! You're going to be late for your first day!" my mother's voice cracked through my dreams like lightning.

I groaned and rolled over, burying my face deeper into the pillow. "First day of what?" I mumbled, still half-asleep.

And just then-my warm blanket disappeared. A second later, the fan whirred at full speed above me, chilling my bare feet.

"Mum!" I whined, curling up tighter.

"Sia Lucy Evans!" she yelled, now marching closer. "If you don't get up in the next five seconds, I swear I'm going to destroy your favorite blanket."

That worked. Instantly.

"I'm up! I'm up!" I scrambled out of bed like my life depended on it, hair flying in every direction.

Mum stood with her arms crossed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're not a child anymore. This is your first day at the office. Do you really want to make a bad impression?"

Her words struck me like a bucket of cold water. "First day..."

My eyes widened. "Oh my God. Today's my first day!" I stumbled into full panic mode-knocking things over, trying to decide if I should brush my teeth or find clothes first or maybe throw myself out of the window.

"Mum, Why didn't you wake me up earlier?!" I accused her like it was her fault I'd snoozed through ten alarms.

"I did. Five times. You snored through all of them," she replied, clearly done with my dramatics.

I darted into the bathroom, grabbing the first halfway-decent outfit I could find. My jeans. A plain sweater. Nothing formal. I winced.

Xander's going to kill me.

Why didn't I just listen to Mum when she told me to buy office clothes last week? But no-stupid me wanted to "save money."

"God, Sia. You're a disaster," I whispered to my reflection as I tied my hair into a loose ponytail.

I threw on the clothes anyway, my fingers shaking as I fastened my watch. It was cold outside-October always crept into my bones like it lived there rent-free-but this morning, the chill felt sharper, more personal. Like it knew I was unprepared

By the time I got downstairs, it was already 7:50 a.m.

"Good luck, baby!" Mum said softly handing me a sandwich wrapped in foil "Eat on the way".

I nodded, hugged her tightly, and forced a smile before rushing out the door, nerves tangled in every step.
-----------

I opened my phone's map as soon as I stepped on the main road. I typed in the address: Black Headquarters, Houston.

And what I saw nearly made me cry.

The office was 120 kilometers away-outside the city.
My palms turned clammy. My socks felt wet.
One of my many weird body glitches when I'm anxious.

I checked cab fares.
$300.
My wallet?
$106.

Public bus it is.

It took three hours, two transfers, and what felt like a lifetime, the bus was crowded, slow, and stuffy. It stopped every ten minutes and smelled faintly like stale chips and tired people. But I kept repeating to myself: It's okay. You're doing your best.

By the time I stepped off the bus, it was 11 a.m eventually, I stepped off the last bus and looked up-

And gasped.

The view hit me like a slap. Skyscrapers stretched into the sky like glass giants. The entire district shimmered with elegance. Security guards in suits. Even the air felt expensive.

I asked one of the guards, dazed, "Where's Black Industries?"

He smiled. "You're standing in it. These all belong to Mr. Black."

I blinked.

All of them?

The building was stunning-sleek, dark glass walls reflecting the morning sun, the letters BLACK INDUSTRIES HQ etched in silver above the main entrance. Everyone walking around looked like they'd stepped off a Vogue business editorial.

The Black Headquarters wasn't just an office building.
It was a skyline of its own-multiple high-rises surrounded by pristine gardens, fountains, glass walkways that sparkled in the sun. It looked like something out of a luxury magazine. Everything screamed wealth, order, control.

I, on the other hand, looked like a college dropout who got lost on her way to the bookstore.