Rachel's POV
I stumbled into Darius's office, my heels clicking on the marble floor. He had dragged me here, his grip on my arm firm.
He slammed the door shut behind us, and I heard the soft click of the lock. Darius ignored me, settling into his leather chair like a king on his throne.
I wiped my tear-stained face, pushing and sucking in the remnant, and snapped at him, my patience wearing thin. "You didn't tell me Andrew was your nephew."
Darius raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "You didn't tell me he was your ex-husband."
Arsehole!
I took a step forward, my heart racing. "You knew."
Darius's gaze locked onto mine. "And now you know too." His response came curt and calculated.
I felt a shiver run down my spine. There was something cold in those steel grey eyes that burnt through me that just didn't seem right.
He looked like he knew everything, a lot more than I lacked, never ceasing to be condescending.
Darius leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. "If you want to make this mission work, Rachel, you need to focus. Keep whatever past you had with Andrew and focus on the deal; I will not have you—" he paused, his jawline hardening, eating back his words like he was about to say something he shouldn't.
I walked closer, placing my index finger on the table, my anger simmering. "I don't get it. If you are related to Andrew, why then are you after his downfall?"
Darius's expression turned icy. "My personal affairs remain confidential; that should be the least of your worries. Focus on the deal at hand."
I felt a chill run down my spine, his tone firm and authoritative, his eyes never leaving mine.
Fuck!
"You're an arsehole," I whispered, taking a step back.
Darius's gaze darkened. "Mind your words, little one." He warns, his eyes narrowing.
I swallowed hard, feeling a shiver run down my spine. I knew I had to be careful around Darius. He seems like someone who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
But how on earth am I supposed to work alongside my ex-husband's uncle, and not just any uncle, a fine-ass ruthless man, who seems to have a lot untold?
"Take a seat and quit staring," his husky voice snapped me back to reality.
I licked my lower lip, avoiding his gaze, and I settled.
He pushed forward some documents. "Go through this and give me some feedback."
I nodded obediently like a four-year-old, feeling petite and under his control.
Fuck! No man has made me feel so intimidated as he does, and that just doesn't sit well with me, but we had better things to deal with than worrying about him.
One thing's for sure: it's not going to be easy working for him.
A knock came through the door, drawing our attention.
"Come in," Darius ordered the person in.
The secretary from earlier walked in, sending a glare my way before forcing a sweet smile at Darius.
Pathetic.
"Mr. Reid, the office has been assembled," she informs.
He took a minute before looking up from the paperwork, adjusting his tie, "Good, take Rachel to her office."
She sent me a glare. "Follow me."
I fought the urge to throw her a punch, not to sound too violent, but I just didn't like her.
I get that she is all over Darius, but she needs to relax; she can have him to herself; I am no competitor of hers.
But the way I see things, Darius would be damned to spend a second… but you never can tell it with men.
They're filled with so much crap, and no matter how much you've given up for them, they won't hesitate to break you, all for their selfish reasons.
Ugh!
She guided me to a mini office, which was piled with papers. Uncleaned and uncleared, what was I supposed to do here?
Work?
No, no, no!
Certainly not. Who then would clean up this mess?
"You can find your place here. Do as you wish and make yourself comfortable, she states, a sly smile dancing on her lips.
I stopped her from turning away. "I thought I heard you when you mentioned having the office ready for me."
She chuckles, "And who are you to question me? Look, stay within your limits; you are only just a worker here, a regular one. If you want to survive working here, play by my rules or anyone above you, or else you won't last a week; that I can assure you. Now do yourself a favor and clean up this mess," she spat, turning on her shoes and walking away.
I stared at her retreating figure, flabbergasted.
The audacity of this woman. Just who does she think she is?
How dare she?
I scoffed, my eyes wandering around the tight space.
I needed to get that woman fired, at least not yet. Anything and everything comes after we have managed to gather as many sources to bring this company down to ashes.
I grunt in frustration, throwing a pile of paper to the ground, tears accumulating at the brim of my eyes.
How do I survive this?
Seeing them together… the man I loved, the man I gave up everything to be with, and my best friend… together.
My poor child, I would have had him… alive and healthy. We would have been one big happy family, but he threw all that away.
I broke into sobs, falling to the ground, the lump in my throat growing as my heart squeezed with immense pain.
A knock on the door snapped me out of the moment as I hurriedly got up and wiped off my tears, sucking the remnant back.
"Come in," I ushered the person in.
A feminine figure walked in with some papers; a friendly smile spread on her lips.
"You must be Rachel," she says, to which I nod, forcing a smile.
"Well, I'm Jasmine, Mr. Smithson's assistant," she introduced herself, extending her hands for a shake.
I took it in, "Pleasure meeting you."
Her brows furrowed as she examined my facial expression. "Are you okay?"
I gulped a lump, "Yes."
She didn't look convinced, yet she let it go, which I was grateful for.