5. The Coldness!

Lisa’s POV 

Today felt different.

The morning air was cool, the sky soft, and for once I wasn’t running like a madwoman to reach work. I sat in my favorite café near the office, sipping coffee like a normal human being instead of swallowing it between elevator doors. The smell of brewed coffee wrapped around me, warm, calming, almost like a hug after a long fight.

It felt good. New. Fresh.

Jack didn’t mess up a single thing at home today, so I actually walked out in peace. A rare miracle. Maybe the rest of the day would go like this too.

I felt beautiful today. Confident. I wore my new black blouse and that matcha-brown skirt I recently bought. The skirt hugged my hips perfectly, soft against my skin, and the blouse shaped just the right amount of cleavage, classy but bold. I didn’t feel ashamed of my body today. I felt proud of it.

I was enjoying my own company when a man walked toward me. His office ID hung around his neck, he probably worked in one of the buildings nearby.

“Hi, I’m Mark,” He introduced.

“Lisa,” 

I replied. I already knew where this conversation was headed, but I had no intention to ruin the illusion for him too early.

“Beautiful name,” He said. “Just like the lady who have it.”

He sat down without even asking if he could join. Men!

He continued, “I was alone so I thought I might find a company.”

I forced a polite smile. Then came the question.

“Are you free?”

Of course!

I wasn’t new to this. Men approached, fine. But I wasn’t interested and I really shouldn’t be.

“Actually, I’m getting late,” I said, standing up. “Enjoy your coffee, Mark.”

He looked disappointed but didn’t give up.

“Can we exchange numbers at least? Coffee tomorrow? It’s on me.”

I smiled awkwardly.

“Sorry… I don’t like coffee.”

I just needed to leave before he turned persistent again.

I wasn’t running from men. I was running from the trouble that always came with them.

I reached the office on time and went straight to prepare coffee for my boss. Louis must’ve arrived already, he lived in his work more than in his own life. I had the meeting prepared, the data checked twice, everything perfect. Nothing was going wrong today.

I carried his coffee, knocked, and entered.

He was sitting at his desk in a charcoal grey suit, checking his mails with sharp focus. His shoulders looked carved, his expression unreadable. A few strands of hair fell on his forehead and a ridiculous part of me wanted to tuck them back. But I know better. I know my limits.

Why did this monster have to look so unfairly handsome?

I cleared my throat and set his coffee down.

“Good morning, sir.”

Nothing was ever good when he was around. Every breath around him felt like stepping on glass.

His eyes lifted slowly to my face, calm, calculated until they dropped to my blouse. His gaze brushed over my cleavage for a fraction of a second, but something shifted in him. His jaw tightened and his eyes travelled lower, down to my skirt.

I shifted uncomfortably.

Was he checking me out? Or was I imagining things?

I would never know.

I broke the silence before it strangled me.

“We have to leave for the meeting. Everything is ready. Any last-minute changes?”

His eyes returned to mine. The calm inside them disappeared, replaced by something unstable and burning. A vein popped on his forehead, and his Adam’s apple moved as he dragged in a deep breath.

“Cold coffee,”

He said.

I blinked.

“…Uh?”

He only drank black coffee. Bitter, strong, always.

His glare confirmed he was serious.

“Cold. Coffee. Right?”

I nodded and walked out to make it. My mind kept replaying his tone, his eyes like he was punishing something inside himself and wanted to drag me into it.

I returned and placed the cold coffee on his table.

“Cold coffee.”

He picked up the cup gently. Siped it too gently. Then he got up.

Before I could even process the movement, he poured the cold drink over me.

The shock froze me. Brown liquid dripped down my blouse, my skirt, down my legs.

He… actually poured coffee on me.

Thank God it wasn’t hot. Thank God my clothes weren’t white.

But still. What the hell!!!!

I stared at him like my brain was buffering.

A faint, mocking smirk curved on his lips.

“Next time I ask you for something,” 

He said, voice like ice. 

“Ask me how I want it.”

I shut my eyes for a second because if he weren’t my boss, his face would have caught my hand so hard the print would remain for days. He was insane. A certified psycho in an expensive suit.

“We need to leave soon,” 

He added, sitting back down and grabbing his black coffee as if he hadn’t just assaulted me with caffeine. 

“Be prepared.”

He did this on purpose. I knew it.

He ruined my clothes. My mood. My morning. My confidence.

But I needed this job.

“I’m changing my clothes.” 

I said tightly. 

“And the bill will be paid with the company's card.”

One of his eyebrows lifted, not refusing, just observing, amused.

“You have ten minutes.”

He sounded like he was enjoying this.

And this was just the beginning of the day.

God only knew what he had planned for the rest of it.

I walked out before the anger burning in my chest could escape my mouth.