CHAPTER ONE

Anika’s P.O.V

I was awakened by the jarring sound of my phone, which woke me up from my sleep.

Groaning, I reached out to switch it off, but then realization hit me like a ton of bricks—it was my first day at my father’s company and I was already running late. 

Hastily, I got up, clutching the sheet to cover my naked body as I gathered my scattered clothes from the floor.

The stranger lying in bed, whose name I still didn't know, stirred awake and sat upright, completely exposed, as I hurriedly dressed.

"Hey," he muttered in his unappealing morning voice.

It wasn't as alluring as I had initially thought.

Ignoring him, I continued to dress but he was unfazed by my disinterest in conversation and kept talking. 

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"I'm getting ready for work," I snapped.

A chuckle broke the silence, causing me to turn around. He stood up and approached me then he wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Come on, don't leave just yet. Let's stay here a while longer," he pleaded, kissing the side of my neck. I nearly gagged at his words.

I spun around to face him. "Listen, I appreciate what happened last night, but it was only a one-night stand. I'm sorry, but I can't see you again. Let's call it quits." I said to him.

The stranger tried to protest, "But I feel a connection between us. Don't you feel it?" 

There was no way this man was serious. I had only met him last night and my decision to sleep with him had been influenced by alcohol because I was horny. Maybe sleeping with him had been a grave mistake after all.

I laughed in amusement. "What connection? Look, I know what you're doing, but it's not going to work on me. Just take this and leave. I hope I never have to see you again." I tossed a wad of cash at him and walked away from the hotel room.

As I closed the door behind me, I caught a glimpse of him gathering the money I had thrown at him from the floor. It only made me shake my head.

Men…

~*~

I entered my house and as expected, I found my mother in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. "Good morning, Mom," I greeted her, walking up to her and kissing her cheek.

A frown creased her face as she took in my appearance, realizing that I hadn't spent the night at home. 

"Why are you wearing the same clothes you wore to the club last night?" she asked, but I averted her gaze. 

"I have to go to work. I'm already late," I deflected her questions and hurried upstairs to my bedroom.

"ANIKA REBECCA DOWNS, don't ignore your mother! Answer me!" she yelled, but I was already in my room.

After taking a shower, I applied my makeup and changed into a suitable outfit—a stylish black suit. A satisfied smile formed on my lips as I examined my reflection in the mirror; I looked presentable.

"I can do this. I must make Dad proud by taking his company to new heights. He chose me as the CEO for a reason and I mustn't disappoint him." I said to myself.

'But you killed him,' a voice whispered in my head, sending a bolt of fear through me.

"No, I didn't," I said aloud.

"I didn't," I muttered repeatedly. If I repeated those words enough times, maybe I could convince myself to believe them.

"Love, are you ready?" my mom's voice snapped me out of my trance.

"I'm ready, Mom. I'm coming," I replied.

Taking a deep breath, I plastered a smile on my face, attempting to conceal the guilt I was feeling with a false sense of happiness. It worked every time; people couldn't tell the difference.

After that, I descended the stairs and headed to the dining area, then I quickly finished my breakfast since my mom wouldn't want me to leave without eating, and drove off to my office.

"Fuck!" I cursed as I eased my foot off the accelerator and found myself behind a Lexus in a traffic jam.

I knew going to the club last night had been a bad idea, but Laura had persuasion skills and I couldn't seem to refuse her even if I wanted to and now I was stuck in traffic because I had overslept.

The car in front of me began to inch forward, and I prepared to follow when suddenly, another vehicle appeared out of nowhere, cutting me off and causing me to collide with their rear end.

My heart raced as I reflexively slammed on the brakes, my face meeting the airbag the car provided.

"What the fuck?" I muttered, shaken by the event. I couldn't believe I had almost been in an accident.

As if things couldn't get any worse, I heard a knock on my windshield. I took a moment to compose myself before looking over. It was a man. He gestured for me to roll down my window and I did, my anger slowly intensifying.

"Hey, miss, I'm sorry for what just happened. I was in a rush, and the cars in my lane were moving too slowly. I know it's not an excuse for almost causing an accident, but I genuinely apologize," the man ranted, fueling my anger even further.

His lateness didn't justify jeopardizing my safety. I also was running late, but I didn't act as irrationally as he did when faced with slow-moving lanes. I could have died for goodness sake.

I kept my eyes locked on him, studying his features. He was undeniably attractive—a charming man I must admit and it didn't help that he was dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. 

There was something about a man in a tuxedo that set my heart racing but I was too angry with the man to feel anything for him.

Strangely, he felt familiar as if I had encountered him before but I couldn't quite put my finger on where or when I had met him.

"Here..." he extended a business card toward me. When he noticed my hesitance, he took hold of my right hand and firmly placed the card within my grasp.

"Please call me within the next few hours, and I promise to take care of the damages to your car. Goodbye," he said, just as he was about to leave.

"Stop!" I shouted, my tone more spiteful than I had intended. Good. I stepped out of my car and threw his card in his face.

"Do you think I would just let you walk away after almost killing me? I don't need your damn card or your apology. Let's-"

"This isn't a place for conversation! If you want to talk, do it elsewhere. People are waiting behind you, you know!" the owner of the car behind me shouted, honking impatiently.

Embarrassment washed over me. "We're causing a traffic jam," I muttered. 

"Miss, just accept my card, give me a call in a few hours and we can resolve this. I will cover all medical expenses, insurance claims, and anything else. Just give me a few hours as I am in a rush at the moment," he said, turning towards his car but I couldn't let him go that easily.

"Are you deaf? I said you're not going anywhere, not after nearly killing me," I declared. 

I refused to let him escape without taking responsibility for his actions. I knew his type—all talk, no action. His card could even be a fake. He wasn't getting off the hook so easily.

"So, what do you want me to do then?" he sighed, clearly annoyed.

"Let's go to the police station to sort this out," I asserted.

He muttered something under his breath, running his hands through his hair as though trying to contain his temper. Then, he reluctantly flashed me a fake smile.

“Fine," he reluctantly agreed, his voice tinged with irritation. "I will follow you to the police station after I am done with the business I have. Take my card and give me a call in a few hours, and I'll be there.” He reached down to pick up the card from the ground and handed it to me.

A scoff escaped my lips. "I need you to follow me now," I demanded.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly annoyed. "Listen up, woman. I am already late to where I am supposed to be. If you don't trust that I'll pay for the damages, then why don't you come to the address listed on the card? Besides, you're not dead, right? So why blow this out of proportion instead of resolving it civilly like an adult? You're causing a scene and holding up traffic. Give me a call in a few hours, and I will do whatever is necessary related to this incident," he spoke and with that, he got into his car and sped away, leaving me stunned and seething with anger.

Screw him.

In a fit of rage, I flung the card he had given me. I didn't need his help; I would fix my car myself with my own money.

I entered my car and sat in my car for a few moments. Taking deep breaths, I attempted to calm myself and tried to push the recent events out of my mind. 

Eventually, when my mind had cleared, I drove to my workplace with my dented car which was a constant reminder of the chaos that just happened.

~*~

I arrived at the company meeting slightly late. Putting my frustration aside, I apologized and introduced myself to the executives and the room greeted me with smiles plastered on their faces. 

It was clear to me that most of these smiles were not genuine but I wasn't bothered by it. After all, it was the world of business, and not everyone would be pleased with my position as the CEO.

Once the meeting ended, my new assistant showed me to my office. However, as soon as I settled in, I was bombarded with piles upon piles of documents that needed my attention.

"The board of directors mentioned that you need to interview candidates for the assistant manager position in the next hour. It seems they want to test your competence and I believe that you should take that interview to prove them wrong," Riley said and I couldn't help but agree with her.

Those conniving people wanted to find fault in me but I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me fail. My father had raised me to be better than that.

"Tell them I will do the interviews," I instructed Riley. 

"And on your way, bring me the files of the candidates I will be meeting." With a quick bow, she left to carry out my orders while I made my way to my office.

Shortly thereafter, Riley returned with the files, handing them over to me before exiting the room. 

Adjusting myself in my chair, I began to look through the portfolios of the individuals I was scheduled to interview. There were five candidates in total, and I needed to familiarize myself with their background information before our face-to-face meetings.

As I skimmed through the names, my eyes landed on a file that ignited anger within me. It was the same man from the morning, the man who had nearly taken my life and had destroyed my car, insulted me, and ruined my entire day.

"Kelvin Andrew Anderson," I muttered under my breath as I went through his information. 

He possessed impressive qualifications and skills, which explained how he had managed to secure a spot in the top five among five thousand other applicants.

"Well, we shall see just how good he claims to be when we meet in person. I can't wait to enjoy the shocked look on his face when he sees me." I thought.

T.B.C

Noeline.