Chapter 2

MITCHELL

"And what's that supposed to mean?" He stares at me, offended by my statement.

I take a sip of my whiskey. Placing it down and smirking up at him.

I know I'm a fucking bastard at times. Okay, well, most of the time. Patrick Jensen thought he could just swindle me and get away with it, but the jokes on him. I'm a fucking business tycoon, nobody swindles me.

I reach into my briefcase and slide the neat envelope across the table to him. He stares at it then back at me.

"What is this?"

I don't answer. I just keep staring at him.

He opens the envelope, and i watch as shock starts to cross his features. He quickly looks up and i smirk when fear flashes in his eyes. He sinks back into his chair and sweat starts to form on his forehead.

"Where did you get this?"

"That doesn't matter. What matters, is the ten years plus you'll spend in jail if i report you."

He turns pale.

"What do you want? I'll do anything."

My smile widens. There it is.

* * *

I park my car in the garage and head straight for my bedroom. It's pretty late, way past midnight. I don't bother turning the lights on because of the moonlight that shines through the windows i strictly instruct to never close the curtains over. My foot bumps into something, and i pause. Reaching down, i realize it's a female's shoe.

My jaw clenches. It's been years since anything belonging to a woman has been in my room. Sylvia strictly knows my orders. That's what i pay her for. Ever since Celine left me with a shattered heart, I've never thought of having anything serious with any woman, and i plan on keeping it that way. It's meet, fuck, then separate ways. No commitments.

I take my shirt off, but a figure on the bed catches my attention. She's covered in my sheets. All i can see is hair.

Brown.

Celine was blonde. She hated brunettes because of her abusive mother. Whoever this is, they're fired.

* MORNING *

"You better than anyone know the rules, Sylvia."

"Sir, i had no idea. I am so sorry. She's new and had a lot to drink at the workers' party. She must have made a mistake."

"Well, there's no room for such mistakes." I pull out my checkbook and write down a fair amount. "She's fired." I slide it to Sylvia.

I continue working on my laptop to block out any pleas she has for the girl. Sensing my final word, she speaks.

"Yes, sir." Then she leaves.

* * *

"Mitchell, you're seriously not going to give the girl a chance? You haven't even met her."

"I've made my decision, Charles."

"You're as stubborn as your father."

"So they say." I push my chair back. "I'll get the papers you need."

I disappear through the small door to the room where i keep all my important files.

Taking the one i need, i head back to my office and my feet come to a halt at the scene in front of me.

Charles's head is facing up at the ceiling, his eyes closed, while a brunette girl kneels in front of him, holding his pants at the knees.

"The fuck?"

The girl startles and her sobbing stops.

"Are you fucking serious, Charles? In my house?"

"What?" He asks, looking lost.

I turn my attention to the girl.

"And who are you? Meet my eyes."

She slowly turns and stares at me.

For a moment, i freeze and time stops moving.

Her eyes are shiny with tears, lips pink, full and have a slight natural plump. Her skin is tanned and her long chocolate brown hair complements her skin. If i wasn't mistaken, I'd say she has some Brazilian roots.

She's the most fucking beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on. The more she looks at me nervously, with her big round brown eyes, the more i want to keep her.

"I, my, I'm.."

"Get the fuck out!" I say coldly. Irritated by the sudden emotions that just pierced my heart.

"Mitch-"

I lift my palm up, cutting Charles off.

"Sir, i just want my job back, please."

Please.

On her knees.

Face bear of makeup but fucking gorgeous.

Voice so low and smooth like velvet.

Shit.

"Leave."

She gets to her feet, bowing her head and leaves.

Silence.

"It's been four years, Mitchell. Four."

My jaw clenches.

"You treat women as if they were all her."

He knows better than anyone not to mention her name. "I almost lost hope, but not anymore."

My eyes lift and meet his.

"I saw how you just looked at her." He points at the closed door.

I abruptly stand, my chair squeaking against the wooden floor.

"Get out."

He shakes his head in disappointment. Reaching for his briefcase, he heads to the door and says one last time.

"I hope the anger doesn't consume you and it's too late when you realize." Then he walks out.

I feel heat building from my feet to my stomach, then my head.

Fuck.

* * *

Sylvia places the tea on the desk. I feel her eyes watching me and i speak without looking up.

"Say what you want to say."

She sighs.

"Can't you give the poor girl another chance? She's been crying all day."

"So she didn't leave?"

"No."

My pen pauses on the paper. I lift my eyes and meet hers.

"I know this is your house," she explains calmly. "But i told her to stay for the night."

There's a certain feel of relief at hearing she's still here. I don't know where all these foreign feelings are coming from.

"She didn't ask me to convince you. I feel sorry for the poor thing."

I put my pen down, rest my elbows on the desk, and link my fingers under my chin.

"Tell her to come apologize to me herself, and i might actually give her her job back."

Sylvia smiles and nods. Despite me being an asshole, she isn't afraid of me, respectfuly. She saw firsthand how it affected me when Celine left me, probably for another man. And it also has a lot to do with her playing a part in raising me.

A soft knock comes at the door.

"Come in," i say without lifting my head.

"You called for me, sir?" She says softly.

That fucking voice.

I finally look up.

Big brown eyes, wavy brown hair, she's a little goddess, and no matter how much i try to push the cloud of smoke out of my head, i can't.

"Say my name." I speak calmly.

"What?" She frowns.

"Say my name."

"Mitchell."

Oh fuck.