Chapter 33
It had been two grueling weeks since Drogen left on his mission. Natasha missed him so much that her heart ached in ways she didn't think were possible. The nights felt colder, lonelier, and the silence of his apartment was almost maddening. She had never known how much she'd grown used to his presence until he wasn't there anymore.
To make things worse, Drogen's absence at the company meant she had to work directly under Alice. And Alice? She took full advantage of the situation, sending Natasha on the most absurd, petty errands imaginable.
Some of Alice's "brilliant" requests included
Fetching her coffee from a café on the farthest end of the city, only to return and hear, "Oh, I wanted iced coffee, not hot."
Making Natasha scour the building for her "lucky" pen, which she later admitted was in her desk drawer all along.
Asking Natasha to collect a package from a post office during a torrential downpour without providing an address, only to realize it was delivered to the office the day before.
Insisting Natasha bring her a specific brand of lip balm that was only available in a boutique downtown—during her lunch break.
Demanding Natasha book her a spa appointment, then blaming her for not also arranging a ride there.
Natasha endured it all with gritted teeth. Not because she was afraid of Alice but because Alice was technically her superior, and Natasha didn't want to cause trouble while Drogen was away. But one day, Alice went too far.
"Natasha, I need you to drive to the florist and pick up some lavender-scented candles for my office. Make sure they're lavender. And hurry up—I want them within the hour," Alice barked, lounging at her desk like a queen issuing orders to her servant.
Natasha snapped.
"I wasn't hired to run errands for your sorry ass!" she hissed, her voice sharp and furious. "If you want those candles so badly, then go fucking get them yourself!"
Alice's face turned red with indignation. "Then get ready to be fired when Mr. Lee gets back!" she yelled.
But Natasha had already stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She didn't care. She wasn't afraid of Alice's empty threats. She had only tolerated her nonsense out of respect for Drogen, but her patience had run out.
When she got home that evening, she collapsed onto the couch, her body and mind utterly drained. The day had been long, but the emptiness she felt was even more exhausting.
She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting to Drogen. She missed him so much it physically hurt. There were nights she felt the urge to summon him, just to see his face, to hear his voice—but she knew how important his mission was. She didn't want to be selfish.
With thoughts of him still swirling in her mind, she slowly drifted off to sleep.
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Meanwhile, Drogen was finally making progress. After weeks of relentless searching, he had found a lead, the ancient artifact he sought was locked away in China. While he hadn't pinpointed the exact location, he had enough clues to strategize his next move.
But before anything else, he needed to return home. He needed to see her.
The longing had become unbearable. Every night, he dreamed of her—her voice, her touch, her scent. She haunted his thoughts constantly, and no amount of distraction could dull the ache of missing her.
When Drogen finally arrived at his apartment, it was late. He quietly opened the door and stepped inside. There she was, asleep on the couch, her hair cascading over the cushions. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, her lips slightly parted. She still wore her work clothes, as though she had been too tired to change.
Drogen moved toward her, his footsteps silent. He crouched beside her, taking in every detail of her peaceful face. Gently, he held her in his arms, inhaling her scent, a mix of vanilla and the faintest hint of lavender. God, how he had missed this.
Natasha stirred in his arms, her eyes fluttering open. The moment she saw him, her lips parted in disbelief.
"Drogen..." she mumbled groggily.
He smiled softly. "It's me."
Realization dawned, and before she could stop herself, she flung her arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as she could. "You're back," she whispered.
He didn't waste another second. His lips found hers in a kiss so deep and desperate it left her breathless. His hands gripped her thighs, lifting her slightly as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as their tongues danced together, a fierce and fiery reunion of longing. Every kiss, every touch was charged with the emotions they had both suppressed for weeks.
"I missed you," he groaned against her lips, his voice raw with need.
"I thought I'd go insane without you," she confessed, her forehead resting against his.
Her moans sent shivers down his spine as his hands roamed over her, memorizing the feel of her again. She felt him already rock hard against her and she was also in equal need.
In the next moment, he took her into the room then gently lay her on the bed, her chest rose and fell, her breaths shallow as she tried to steady herself. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her's before trailing down her neck to her collar bone. He nipped gently on her skin, sending shivers and waves of pleasure coursing through her. She slightly tugged on his hair as he unbuttoned her blouse. His hands found her curves, carefully fondling and caressing as she moaned in response.