Chapter 2: An Angel From Hell

Cassandra’s POV

Taking a deep breath, I smoothed down my only professional outfit, a modest black dress that had seen better days, and stepped inside. The lobby was bustling with activity, and employees were moving with purpose. I approached the receptionist, a poised woman who looked at me with mild curiosity.

"I'm here to see Mr. Sinclair," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "He asked me to come in for a job interview."

She raised an eyebrow but nodded, checking her computer. "Your name, please?"

"Cassandra Reed."

"Ah, yes," she said, her tone shifting to one of respect. "Mr. Sinclair is expecting you. Take the elevator to the top floor."

I thanked her and made my way to the elevators, feeling the weighted moments. As the elevator ascended, I took a few deep breaths, reminding myself to stay calm and composed.

When the doors opened, I stepped into a spacious, elegantly decorated office. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city. A sleek desk sat in the center, and behind it, Nathaniel Sinclair stood, looking out over the skyline. He turned as I entered, his face expressionless.

"Miss Reed," he said, his voice cold and commanding. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Sinclair," I replied, trying to keep my nerves in check. "I appreciate it more than you know."

"Let's discuss what your role here will entail." He motioned me to sit.

As I took a seat, Nathaniel outlined the responsibilities of a secretary at Sinclair Co. The job was demanding, requiring organizational skills, discretion, and a willingness to handle high-pressure situations. I listened intently, my initial apprehension giving way to determination. This was my chance to prove myself and to turn my life around.

"Do you think you can handle it?" Nathaniel asked, his gaze piercing.

"Yes, I can," I said with conviction. "I won't let you down."

"Good," he said, leaning back in his chair. "We'll start with a probationary period. If you perform well, the position will be yours permanently."

I nodded, relief washing over me. "Thank you, Nathaniel. I won't disappoint you."

"Let's get started," he said abruptly, cutting off any further pleasantries. "I need you to fetch some water for me. There's a café on the first floor. Make sure it's chilled, and bring it to the 180th floor."

I blinked, taken aback by the immediate request. "Uh, sure. I'll be right back."

Wait, am I not supposed to see my workplace first? Or maybe just a little tour so I can familiarize myself with all the new people I can interact with? 

Does this mean my first day is not a mere orientation or a small stroll? Really? I will be going down to the 180th floor after coming here.

As I hurried to the elevator, my mind raced. Why did he need water from the first floor when surely, there are supplies closer? I pushed the thought aside, determined to prove myself. After going through the crowded café and waiting in line, I finally got the water and rushed back to the ground floor.

"Here you go, Mr. Sinclair," I said, placing the chilled bottle on his desk. My smile wasn’t fading anytime soon as I wished I would be able to please him with how fast I moved.

He barely glanced at it. "This isn't cold enough. Get another one."

My heart thud, but I nodded and hurried back to the café. He didn’t even touch the damn glass! How can he say it is not cold enough? I mean, what does he want? For it to be chilling a few inches away from his hands? 

After another long wait, I returned with an even colder bottle, only to find Nathaniel staring at a stack of papers on his desk.

"Good. Now, I need you to reorganize these files by date, then alphabetically. Make sure every detail is perfect." 

He didn’t even drink the damn water he asked me to fetch for him!

I set to work, meticulously sorting the documents. It took hours, and just as I finished, Nathaniel walked over, inspecting my work with a critical eye.

"This isn't right," he said, tossing a few papers back onto the pile. "Do it again."

My hands trembled as I started over, the frustration building inside me. But I forced a smile and nodded. "Yes, Mr. Sinclair."

The tasks grew increasingly outrageous. He asked me to track down obscure documents, fetch him lunch from a restaurant across town, and even organize his library—all within a single day. By evening, I was exhausted and on the verge of tears.

I stepped into his office one last time, hoping for a reprieve. Nathaniel didn't look up from his computer. "I need you to stay late tonight and prepare a presentation for tomorrow's board meeting. Make sure it's flawless."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his demands pressing down on me. "Of course, Mr. Sinclair. I'll get right on it."

As I worked late into the night, my mind kept playing the events that day. Nathaniel's relentless demands, his cold demeanor, and the overwhelming pressure had pushed me to my limits. I felt like quitting, like walking out and never looking back. But something inside me refused to give up.

Finally, as the clock struck midnight, I finished the presentation and placed it on Nathaniel's desk. He glanced at it briefly, then nodded. "Good. You can go now."

I nodded, too tired to say anything else. As I rode the elevator down, I couldn't shake the feeling of defeat. Nathaniel Sinclair was not the kind, understanding boss I had hoped for. He was demanding, exacting, and impossible to please. But I had survived the day.

As I stepped out into the cool night air, I made a silent promise to myself. I would come back tomorrow, the day after, and as long as it took to prove myself. 

And also, why does he have to stay up that late? If he will be presenting tomorrow, why is there a need to spend so much time working with papers I couldn’t comprehend? 

I fumbled for my phone to call a cab, my mind still reeling from Nathaniel's relentless demands throughout the day.

Just when I finally confirmed the booking, my phone buzzed with a new message. It was from Nathaniel.

"Where are you? Get in here, I need a coffee to freshen my energy."

I glanced at the time. 2:00 a.m. I sighed, feeling a mixture of frustration and guilt. I could already see my cab from a distance, but seeing Nathaniel's office as the only light in the huge building made me hesitate.

I stared at his message, contemplating my options. I could ignore it, go home, and try to salvage what little remained of my sanity. 

Without a second thought, I canceled the cab booking and quickly ordered a coffee from a nearby 24-hour café. As I waited, my impatience grew.

When the coffee finally arrived, I practically sprinted back into the building, taking the elevator to the top floor with a sense of urgency.

When I reached Nathaniel's office, I knocked lightly on the door before stepping inside. He was hunched over his desk, poring over some documents. He looked up as I entered, his expression unreadable.

"I brought the coffee," I said, setting the cup on his desk.

He glanced at it briefly before nodding. "Good. Leave it there."

I hesitated, unsure of what to do next. "Is there anything else you need?"

Nathaniel looked up at me, his gaze piercing. "No. That will be all for tonight."

Relief washed over me, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized. "Alright. Have a good night, Mr. Sinclair."

As I turned to leave, he spoke again, his voice softer than before. "Cassandra..."

I paused, surprised to hear him use my name. "Yes?"

"Thank you," he said simply, his eyes meeting mine for a fleeting moment before returning to work.

Am I hearing it wrong?

Did he just thank me? Oh wow… I must be hallucinating. “You’re welcome, sir!” I joyously said. 

“I will be taking my leave now. Good night!” I smiled brightly as I went to the door. 

I was about to go out when I heard him clear his throat. 

“Oh, and don’t forget.” He paused. I turned to look at him with an expression that said he should continue talking. 

“Make sure you'll be here around 6 a.m. tomorrow. The presentation is due in the morning, so you should mind your clock.”

6 a.m.? Is he serious?!

All the smiles and butterflies I had felt disappeared in my body. It is impossible to call a taxi at this time now so I am sure I will leave roughly after an hour. 

And he is expecting me to come that early?  

“Y-yes, sir.” I forced a smile while my eyes were piercing through his soul and screaming in the burning pit of hell. 

“I will be here around 6.” I had to calm myself. 

“Alright, see you.” Nathaniel smiled, a mocking one. 

What have I entered? Am I even doing the right thing?