My way

Camilla 

I opened my eyes to find myself in a worst-nightmare scenario. Trouble. I knew I was in big trouble. 

Goddess, why did you allow this to happen?

Why?

I didn't even need to look, as I already knew who possessed the voice. I knew it was Stephano Scum Maddens. His voice was like a rusty gate scraping against my eardrums, making my skin crawl.

My heart sank, and my stomach dropped like a lead balloon. I felt like I'd been punched in the face. How did I end up here? What had I done to deserve this?

I knew I had to face him, but my body felt heavy, weighed down by dread. I slowly turned my head, my eyes meeting his smug, self-satisfied grin.

Goddess, help me.

I was met with the very presence of Stephano Maddens. His chiseled features seemed to be carved from granite. His eyes, a piercing blue, bore into me as if sizing me up. But it was his mouth that really caught my attention – a thin, pressed line that seemed to whisper "I'm not impressed." His suit, midnight black, seemed to be molded to his body.

"Ah, Camilla, so glad you could join us. We were all just sitting around, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for you."

I felt my cheeks flush, and my face heat up in embarrassment. I wanted to apologize, to explain, but my words caught in my throat. "I-I'm s-so sorry, I-I mean, I was held up, and-I-I..." I stammered, my voice trembling as I gestured nervously with my hands. I fidgeted with my skirt, trying to pull it down to cover my thighs, but my fingers felt like clumsy sausages and I ended up tugging on my hem instead.

Stephano's gaze narrowed, as he took in my disheveled appearance. His eyes fell on my thighs, where my skirt had ridden up.

 “Pervert!” my mind hissed.

And on my wrinkled shirt. I cursed myself for wearing these damned clothes. I could tell he was silently judging my choice of outfit.

I couldn't help but babble, my words spilling out in a nervous splash. "I-I know, I-I look a mess, but-I was running late, and-I-I didn't have time to change, and-I-I..." I trailed off, realizing that anything I said would only make it worse.

My hands fluttered around my face, as if trying to hide my embarrassment, and my feet shuffled nervously on the floor. I felt like a schoolgirl caught out by the teacher, not a confident personal assistant.

Stephano's gaze seemed to bore into my soul, as if enjoying my discomfort, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he gloating? Was he amused? Or was he just plain disgusted?

"I'm so sorry I'm late," I said, trying to sound composed. My voice trembled slightly as I spoke. "I overslept and then I set the wrong alarm on my phone."

Stephano raised an eyebrow. He had the classic I -don’t-believe-a-word-you're-saying look written all over his face. "Oh, of course. The classic 'I overslept and my alarm didn't work' excuse. How original."

I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment. I could feel the heat rising up my neck and into my cheeks. I fumbled with my phone, showing him the incorrect alarm time. "I know it sounds silly, but it's the truth!" I protested. "I'm usually really responsible with my time, I promise."

Stephano snorted. "Responsible? You're not even responsible enough to set your alarm correctly. How do you expect to handle the demands of this job?" 

I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. I could feel my heart still racing, but I tried to slow it down. "I know I messed up," I said slowly. "But I'll make up for it. I'll work extra hard to catch up and make sure it doesn't happen again."

Stephano raised an eyebrow. "See that you do. Now, let's get you started on your first project. And try not to mess it up.”

I nodded, eagerly. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

“Although I must admit, Camilla," he said. 

Too soon!

"You do look a lot... different." He paused, his gaze roaming over me, making me feel like a fragile specimen.

I couldn't meet his gaze, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I fidgeted with the hem of my skirt, my eyes fixed on the floor, as if the pattern of the carpet held the secrets of the universe. my mind whispered, "What he means is that, you don't look so fat anymore." 

Why, thank you, captain obvious!

But before I could respond, Stephano continued, his voice cutting through my thoughts."You look fit. Fitter than I remember, but that's beside the point." His tone turned brisk and dismissive. "We have a lot of work to do, and well, you just slowed that down by showing up late."

"I'm sorry, Stef-" I began, but he cut me off with a raised hand and clenched jaw.

"Mr. Maddens, Camilla. It's Mr. Maddens to you," he said, his voice firm. "We're not in high school anymore, and I'm your boss, not your friend."

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I nodded, my mind racing with thoughts of how I should have known better. Elvis had always preferred to be addressed by his first name, but this certainly wasn't Elvis. This was Stephano Scum Maddens. It was unprofessional of me to address him by his first name. I knew the rules, and I should have followed them.

"Of course, Mr. Maddens. I'm sorry, I mean, I apologize for being late," I stammered, my thoughts jumbled and my voice trembling slightly. 

Stephano's expression softened slightly. "See that it doesn't happen again, Camilla.”

As the elevator doors swung open, Stephano gestured for me to follow him. "Now, come with me, Camilla. We have a meeting to attend."

Wait, what?

What meeting?

I was taken aback, my mind racing with questions. What meeting could he possibly want me to attend? And why was I invited?

I trailed behind him, my confusion growing with each step. I tried to keep up with his long strides. We wound through the maze-like corridors, passing by rows of sleek offices.

"Wait, what?" I asked, trying to clarify, but Stephano just kept walking, his pace quickening.

He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense. "We have a meeting to attend, Camilla. Now." He enunciated each word slowly, as if I was struggling to understand.

I shook my head, trying to clear the haze."No, I understand that part, but I'm not sure where my station is...since well...you..." I trailed off, unsure how to phrase it.

Stephano raised an eyebrow, his expression amused. "You mean since I acquired the firm from your less-than-incompetent former boss?" He asked.

I nodded sheepishly, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. "Yeah, that's exactly what I mean."

Stephano chuckled, crossing his arms. "Well, let me ask you a question, Camilla. What exactly was your role when you worked with Elvis? What were your responsibilities?" He asked, his voice probing.

I took a moment to process his words, crossing my arms over my chest. Then, I replied, "I was Elvis' personal assistant."

As soon as the words left my lips, Elvis pursed his lips. Two seconds later, a look of realization dawned on my face. My eyes widened, and my lips parted in a silent "aha" moment. 

"Well done, Sherlock!" Stephano exclaimed. "You solved the mystery! Now, assist me." He said, gritting his teeth.

"Wait, no! What about your assistant?" I asked. "I mean, I figured you'd have one. And that means I'd be transferred, right? To a different department, or maybe even a different floor?"

Stephano chuckled, continuing with the strides. "Well, unfortunately for you, Camilla, you're stuck with me. I don't have an assistant. No trusty sidekick, no loyal minion. Just me, myself, and I."

"How is that even possible?" I asked. "You're a high-profile executive, a big shot. And you don't have an assistant?"

Stephano shrugged. "Easy, I choose not to. I prefer to handle things myself. I'm a control freak, maybe. Or maybe I just like to keep things simple."

I huffed. "Great, then I assume you wouldn't be needing my services. You can just transfer me to a different department. Anywhere else would be better than here, with you and your...your... uniqueness."

Stephano raised an eyebrow, his gaze searching mine. "Does that mean you're ready to let go of your job, Camilla? Are you prepared to walk away from the security and stability that comes with working for me?"

I gasp escaped my lips. Was I ready to give up my job? I thought about all the bills I had to pay, the responsibilities I had to shoulder. No, I wasn't ready to let go. Not yet, at least.

“Since you assisted your former... let's say, less-than-competent boss," he said. "I figured I couldn't let you waste away. I could entertain your services. A little less load to bear, perhaps."

He paused and I swallowed.

"After all, someone with your… What's the word? Right. Skillset shouldn't be left to wither away. I can think of a few ways to put your talents to good use." He finished with a smirk playing on his lips. I could think of a thousand different interpretations for his last utterance, but I chose not to overthink it. I refused to.

We reached the corridor where we both turned, and Stephano suddenly caged me between his arms, his hands planted on either side of me. 

I was shocked, stunned, scared and extremely disturbed. My eyes widened in alarm as I gazed up at Stephano, my gaze tracing the sharp lines of his face, lingering on the curve of his lips. What was he going to do to me? Oh, no. I hurriedly scanned our surroundings, realizing we were alone. No one was around to witness whatever was about to happen. No one could testify to the harassment if he decided to cross the line. Was I in danger? Was I at his mercy?

“Camilla, you will shut up and assist me,' he growled.  “No more questions, no more hesitation. We're doing this my way.”

I felt a shiver run down my spine as he leaned in closer. “Now, let's get to work,” he whispered.