Daniel crossed his legs and laced his fingers together as his tongue ran along the inside of his cheek. Leaning back against the sofa, he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the girl seated on the lounge opposite him. Her cherry-colored floral dress, short enough to reveal her thighs, matched the delicate shade of her necklace. She sat nervously, her apprehensive eyes meeting his unwavering stare.
Daniel's parents had been relentless in pressuring him to spend time with her—the daughter of their close friends. They were convinced she was the perfect match for him, hoping their union would strengthen the bond between the two families and foster something meaningful.
He hadn't been surprised when he came downstairs earlier to find her already in the living room, her gaze wandering across the art pieces adorning the walls. His father had called beforehand, urging him to make her feel welcome, especially since it was their first time being alone together. Daniel, however, detested the entire situation. He didn't find her attractive, nor did he appreciate being coerced into what felt like a predetermined relationship.
The girl cleared her throat softly, breaking the oppressive silence. "I have to compliment your cologne," she said with a small smile, hesitating before introducing herself. To her, his scent was strikingly memorable, so much so that she found herself wondering what brand it might be.
The girl with long mahogany hair couldn't help but admire the way Daniel was dressed. His tailored striped jacket and classic cuts exuded sophistication. She fought the urge to blush, wondering if he had dressed so impeccably just for her—or if anything he wore would simply look that good on him. Her eyes lingered, unable to tear away.
Sandra found herself yearning for a romantic connection with him, even if only for a fleeting moment. She imagined how magical it would feel to walk hand in hand on a date with someone like him. In her daydreams, she could even picture herself accepting a proposal on the spot if he were to offer her a ring. A lifetime with someone so breathtaking seemed worth more than all the riches in the world.
"I'm Sandra," she said, despite assuming he already knew her name. Her voice trembled slightly as she introduced herself, her nerves amplified by his striking presence. Her legs shook under her emotions, overwhelmed by the young man whose looks could captivate anyone, regardless of gender.
Daniel pressed his fingers to his forehead, his expression verging on irritation. He spoke sharply, his tone authoritative. "I didn't ask you to speak," he said, cutting into her words. "In my house, you will do as I say."
Sandra froze, stunned by his response. She hadn't expected him to be so rude. Her chest tightened with a mix of hurt and disbelief, and she inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. Despite his arrogance, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. The thought of winning his heart and attention seemed worth any risk.
She shifted in her seat when she noticed his gaze drop to her lap. The intensity of his stare made her uncomfortable, but she couldn't deny how much she craved his approval. To her, Daniel was perfection, even if he was cocky and impolite.
More than that, Sandra envisioned herself gracing the pages of trending magazines as the girlfriend—or better yet, the wife—of the heir to the world's most powerful real estates tycoon. Being with Daniel could elevate her social standing and dazzle her circle of friends, who had all secretly swooned over him from afar. Unlike them, she was here, sitting across from him. She felt incredibly fortunate.
Sandra had become obsessed with Daniel, spending hours staring at his pictures on her phone ever since their families had dined together. At the dinner, she had watched him closely from her seat beside her mother. He ate quietly, detached from the conversations buzzing around him. Her heart fluttered when, for the first time in hours, his eyes met hers. She had smiled hesitantly, hoping for some acknowledgment. But just as quickly as their gazes locked, he looked away, showing no interest in her at all.
Determined to talk to him, Sandra had waited until the dinner was over and their parents were engrossed in conversation. She approached him confidently, intending to strike up a discussion. But before she could even finish her first sentence, Daniel turned and walked away. She stood there, stunned, as he got into the passenger seat of his family's car and shut the door without sparing her another glance. Sandra had planned to ask him how he found the meal and maybe even more—anything to connect with the boy her friends only dreamed of meeting.
Mrs. Gundi, Daniel's mother, had seen her son brush Sandra off. Displeased with his behavior, she addressed him as soon as they were in the car.
"Simple courtesy, Daniel," she said firmly as the driver started the engine. "Try to show just a little." She hoped her words would sink in and that he would change his indifferent attitude.
The Gundi family had already had a serious conversation with Daniel a week earlier. They had expressed their desire for him to marry soon after completing his education and securing his position as Executive Director at the family's company—a role he was destined for by birthright. Mr. Gundi had even promised to sponsor a lavish wedding and honeymoon to any destination Daniel chose.
Daniel, however, was utterly shocked by the suggestion. The thought of marriage, especially to someone he found so unappealing—repulsed him. Without a word of protest, he had walked away from the discussion and locked himself in his room for over eight hours, unwilling to engage further.
Meanwhile, Sandra had confided in her own parents about her feelings for Daniel. She spoke openly about her admiration for him, how he captured her attention entirely. Her parents, who also admired Daniel—at least for his physical appeal—encouraged her, subtly hinting that a connection between their families could be advantageous for all involved.
Daniel rose from his seat and walked to the wine bar on the far side of the room. His pace was deliberate, and to Sandra, there was something undeniably captivating about it. She watched as he poured himself a glass of champagne, then moved to stand by the large glass window. Soft white curtains framed the view, offering glimpses of the garden beyond, blooming with vibrant flowers in every color.
He took a sip of the champagne, his gaze fixed on the curtains, before speaking. "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"
Sandra blinked, startled by the unexpected question. She wondered why he would even ask such a thing. Shaking her head, she replied hesitantly, "No, I've never had a boyfriend." She swallowed hard, nervous under his inquiry.
"A lover, then?" he asked, his tone calm but probing.
"No, I've never had any," she answered quickly. Then, unable to resist, she added, "Have you?"
Daniel finally turned to look at her, his beige eyes locking onto hers. "I ask the questions," he said firmly, his tone dismissing her curiosity.
Sandra nodded, her lips pressed into a silent agreement. Whatever he wanted was fine by her. She could lose herself in his eyes forever. She wished for a lifetime of gazing into them—intimately, completely.
"You know why you've never had a boyfriend?" Daniel asked, setting his now-empty glass on the table. Sandra's heart raced as he strode toward her. She was stunned when he squatted in front of her, his face close enough for her to see the faint flecks of gold in his eyes. His hands gently rested on her bare thighs, warm and soft against her skin. She longed for his touch to move higher, to pull her closer.
"It's because you're very… unattractive," he said, the words striking her like a blow.
Sandra froze, her breath caught in her chest. How could he not find her attractive? She adored the reflection that looked back at her in the mirror—her perfectly aligned eyes, her delicate nose, her natural lips. She didn't need enhancements to feel beautiful. What could possibly be wrong with her?
"I don't even find you appealing enough to sleep with, let alone be in a relationship with," Daniel added as he stood, towering over her.
Sandra's world seemed to collapse with the weight of his words. She felt her chest tighten, her confidence cracking as his cruel remarks echoed in her ears.
"In response to your question," he continued, turning toward the door and stopping to look at her, "I try not to add more lovers to the ones I already have. Just to be safe."
He was going to walk through the main doors after pausing to say, "Relax. Leave whenever you feel like it."
Sandra sat frozen in place, her heart hammering painfully in her chest. She had convinced herself he'd dressed up for her, but now she realized he had somewhere else to be, maybe someone else to impress.
The plumb sexy girl fought back tears with everything she had, her pride warring with the deep hurt his words had caused. But no matter how hard she would try to stay calm, the sting of his rejection stayed.
*********
Daniel gazed ahead as he maneuvered his car into the parking lot of the towering corporate building. The structure, almost the height of a skyscraper, gleamed in the sunlight with its countless reflective windows. It was a hub of activity, home to hundreds of employees and shareholders, a symbol of power and influence.
He had visited this company earlier in the year with his friends after David had called, inviting them to his office before heading out to hang out later.
David's parents had been pressuring him to familiarize himself with the company's operations, piling him with reports and records to review. They wanted him prepared to eventually take over key responsibilities.
David had begrudgingly agreed to visit the office twice a month, though not without conditions. "Triple my allowance, and I'll do it," he had said, half-joking. Still, as he sat behind his desk watching the revenue charts rise on his computer screen, he couldn't believe he was already working—something he thought would only start after college.
Today, Daniel was the only one answering David's invitation. The other boys were caught up in their own obligations. Samuel had been forced to stay home to attend business lessons with Mr. Corallo, the instructor his father had hired. His dad had even threatened to cut off his credit cards if he skipped another session. Harrison was out of town, attending a family memorial at his grandparents' gravesite. Meanwhile, David's call to Clinton hadn't gone through, leaving him momentarily worried—until he noticed a message notification from their group chat. Clinton had sent a voice note earlier that morning:
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I just need some time alone."
Daniel, effortlessly stunning and the type of guy who turned heads wherever he went, ignored the calls coming in from his parents. He knew exactly why they were ringing—to ask about the girl he'd left sitting alone in the living room. But he wasn't in the mood to explain anything. Instead, he called David to let him know he'd arrived as he walked into the building.
Inside, Daniel wasn't surprised by the glances cast his way. Nearly everyone in their tailored suits and polished shoes paused to look at him. His face was familiar to many of them—featured often in magazines, business journals, and TV broadcasts. He recalled an article he had once come across in a well-known journal. It had described him as "the only son of one of the most influential men in the world." Daniel had read the piece with a mix of curiosity and disbelief; the editor seemed to know details about his life that even he wasn't aware of.
His father's fame in the business world and prominence in social circles made him, and by extension, Daniel—a magnet for public attention. Every new story about their family seemed to captivate readers, driving enormous engagement online. Daniel had grown used to the constant scrutiny, though it never failed to feel a little strange.
The boy in the tailored striped jacket caught a glimpse of a woman carrying an armful of files. She flashed him a smile, her matte red lips curving effortlessly, just as the elevator doors closed in front of him. Inside, he pressed the button for the upper floor, where the shareholders and managers conducted their business.
David stood waiting in front of the elevator, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. He knew his instincts were right when the doors slid open, revealing his friend. They exchanged smiles before stepping forward to embrace in a quick hug.
"Your haircut looks great," Daniel remarked, noticing the crisp, clean cut that suited David's sharp features.
"As always," David smirked as they began walking side by side toward his office.
David's office was expansive, tastefully designed to perfection. Four long upholstered seats surrounded two large tables, each set with neatly arranged documents. A drinks cabinet stood in the corner of the room, and a striking portrait of David dominated a section of the wall. The room exuded sophistication, reflecting a sense of authority and refinement.
David had a project to finish before they could head out. His father, Mr. Honduran, had called earlier that morning to inform him about someone coming to the office. The visitor was supposed to go over some paperwork and explain its importance. "It's critical," his father had emphasized before ending the call.
As David glanced at the clock on the wall, his patience thinned. It was almost 2 p.m., and he had planned to wrap up by 3 p.m. to head to the club with Daniel. The thought of anything delaying his plans made him sigh in frustration.
Daniel, unbothered by the tension, sat on one of the couches before being invited to.
"Fresh wine came in from the winery today," David said, heading to the drinks cabinet. He returned quickly with a bottle of red wine and two transparent glasses.
He poured the wine into Daniel's glass before filling his own.
Daniel took three quick gulps, setting the glass back on the table. He conversed with David about Sarah and the whole situation at home before his arrival at his office "My parents are trying to set me up with her like she's the best option for me. It's ridiculous."
Daniel grinned. "No way. Don't tell me you actually told her she was unattractive."
Daniel rolled his eyes. "She is, bro. I'm not even lying."
David laughed, shaking his head. "Damn, you could've just told her you weren't interested instead of saying that. Come on, man." He waved off, finding humor in the situation, as he sipped from his glass of dark red wine.
"I'm not lying," Daniel insisted, though his tone betrayed a hint of irritation.
David smirked. "I'm surprised your parents want you married so early. But hey, I wouldn't mind being a best man sooner rather than later."
Daniel scoffed. "Sure, I'll get married one day, but definitely not to her." His expression darkened at the thought.
David leaned forward with a grin. "So… anyone else caught your eye yet?"
"Nah." Daniel shook his head and set his empty glass on the table. "At this rate, I'll probably stay single till I'm 80."
They both burst into laughter, and they joked about the absurdity of it.
David left his seat and moved to his desk, where his computer and laptop sat waiting. The persistent ring of the telephone demanded his attention until he finally answered. It was his secretary, informing him that the person his father had mentioned was on their way up. David sighed and gave approval to escort the individual to his office. Frustration prickled at him as he realized how much work remained with the end of his day fast approaching.
A knock on the door pulled both boys from their conversation.
"Come in," David called, his tone tinged with annoyance.
The door creaked open, and a young woman in her twenties strode inside with practiced poise. Her lemon-colored ensemble, cinched at the waist, perfectly complemented her blonde hair and fair complexion.
She glanced briefly at Daniel before focusing on David, recognizing him instantly from his ubiquitous presence on business channels and magazine covers. The Honduran Group of Companies was a giant in the corporate world, often described as being worth untold billions—or more.
The woman, Miranda Edwards, worked at one of the company's branches in another city. A missed flight had forced her to make the journey by car, leaving her hours behind schedule. She had checked her watch the moment she parked and knew she was late—far too late for comfort.
Despite the delay, Miranda's accomplishments spoke for her. She had risen swiftly through the ranks, from a minor staff position in a corner office to assistant manager to the managing director. Her promotion was a result of her diligence, attention to detail, and expertise. It was a remarkable achievement at her age, and her new position allowed her to enjoy a life that many could only aspire to.
This was her first major assignment since her promotion, to deliver and explain a crucial document that required David's signature. The managing director had briefed her on what to say, emphasizing the importance of thoroughly reading the document before signing, as carelessness could result in catastrophic losses.
Miranda maintained her composure as she greeted the two men.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she began. "I'm Miranda Edwards. I've been instructed to deliver these documents, Mr. Honduran. They require your signature." Her tone was polished and professional. She went on to explain the purpose of the papers and emphasized the necessity of reviewing them carefully. She also mentioned the urgency, the document was due at the shareholders' meeting the following day.
David raised a hand to silence her mid-sentence. She stopped speaking, mid-thought, her practiced words falling away.
He flipped through the papers, frowning at the tiny print and the sheer volume of information. The task ahead was clearly going to consume more time than he had anticipated. Running a hand over his forehead, he groaned inwardly at the thought of delaying his plans with Daniel.
"Why is this arriving so late?" David demanded, pointing at the stack of papers he had placed on his desk.
Miranda took a steadying breath and apologized. "My dog fell sick this morning, and I had to take him to the vet," she explained. "That caused me to miss my flight, so I drove here instead. I'm truly sorry for the delay." She refrained from mentioning how carefully she had driven to avoid any mishaps on the road.
David's voice sharpened. "And how exactly is this excuse supposed to fix what you've created?"
Miranda lowered her gaze. "I sincerely apologize, sir," she said softly. She knew the paperwork, if approached diligently, could be completed in under two hours.
"What's your name?" Daniel asked suddenly, breaking into the conversation. His casual tone contrasted with David's growing frustration.
Miranda lifted her head to look at him. "I'm Miranda Edwards, sir," she replied.
"Sorry, what?" Daniel leaned forward slightly, cupping his hand to his ear in mock confusion.
Miranda frowned slightly but repeated herself, slower this time. "Miranda Edwards."
Daniel shrugged nonchalantly. "Okay. And your dog?"
The question caught both David and Miranda off guard.
"He's better now," she answered, her voice softer as she glanced at the striking young man. His resemblance to his father, the man gracing the cover of every major business magazine, was unmistakable.
"No, I mean, what's his name?" Daniel clarified, his tone light.
Miranda smiled faintly. "His name is Bruno."
"Bruno, huh? He must be special to you," Daniel remarked.
"He definitely is," Miranda said with a nod, appreciating his unexpected interest.
David, however, glared at her, his patience nearing its limit. "Are you daft?" he snapped. "Do you want to lose your job?"
Miranda stiffened, her head lowering once more. "Not at all, sir," she replied firmly but respectfully. She would never risk her position—her job was her pride. Working for the Honduran Group of Companies was a privilege few achieved, and even the cleaning staff were required to have prior experience. She wasn't about to jeopardize what she had worked so hard to attain.
Miranda had once heard from a neighbor down the street that her husband had undergone a rigorous interview process before finally securing a cleaning job at the Honduran Group of Companies. The neighbor had mentioned, with pride, that even the cleaners in the company were trained by professionals. They were taught how to handle the furniture with care, educated on the proper use of cleaning products, and warned about what not to use on certain surfaces.
"For example," the neighbor had said, "the floor cleaners can't be used on the furniture or walls. They showed them why, complete with experiments. It's no joke working there."
The chubby woman often praised Miranda whenever they crossed paths, expressing how proud she was of her for becoming an assistant manager in the prestigious company.
"You're doing so well for yourself!" she'd exclaim, showering Miranda with respect and admiration.
Miranda's mother shared the same sentiment. She had been overjoyed at her daughter's achievements and baked cookies to celebrate the promotion.
In David's office, tension filled the girl.
"It seems to me that you want to," David said coldly, his glare fixed on Miranda. His tone was laced with threat, and she shook her head quickly, trying to stay composed. She knew how precarious her position was. A single word from him could shatter everything she had worked for.
"In three seconds, I want you out of my sight," he snapped.
Miranda didn't wait for him to count. She hurried toward the door, her heels clicking against the floor, and was gone before either of them could say another word.
Daniel watched her leave, his gaze lingering on the door for a moment before turning to David, who had resumed flipping through the documents without actually reading them.
"She's fine," Daniel remarked casually, his tone light.
"Who?" David asked, raising a brow. "The clumsy girl?" He gestured toward the space where Miranda had been standing moments ago.
"Yeah."
David scoffed. "Is she the one you've chosen to make your wife?" he teased, closing the file with a smirk.
Daniel chuckled. "No," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But I imagine she would be warm in my bed."
David raised a brow, watching as Daniel absentmindedly bit his forefinger, clearly entertaining a less-than-innocent thought.
"What you mean is, you want a one-night stand," David said knowingly, shaking his head. He was well aware of Daniel's habit of never revisiting the women he'd been with.
"Just make sure to use protection," David added with a smirk before tossing the file back onto the desk. "This can wait."
"Weren't you told the stockholders need it for tomorrow's meeting?" Daniel asked, standing up as well.
"My father owns the company," David replied, nonchalant. "He'll figure something out." He crossed the room to his desk, rummaging for his car keys. "All work and no fun makes David a mentally stressed boy," he quipped, twirling the keys on his finger.
"I drove my car here," Daniel said, pulling his own keys from his pocket and holding them up.
"Which one?"
"The grey sports car," Daniel replied, heading toward the large mirror in the corner to fix his hair.
"Cool. I'll have the driver take mine home," David said, typing a quick message on his phone. "Let's go clubbing," he added, glancing up.
Daniel smirked but stayed focused on his reflection. After a moment, he asked, "Is she a worker here?"
David frowned, realizing Daniel was still thinking about Miranda.
"You're unbelievable," David muttered, shaking his head.
Daniel shrugged, a sly grin on his face.
"She's not from here," David said. "She works at one of the company's other branches."
Daniel stayed quiet, thinking for a moment before whispering an "Okay" to himself.