Chapter 07

Lucian’s footsteps echoed through the empty corridors of the office, each step a measured cadence of irritation. He had been at the company for nearly a decade, but recently, the daily grind had begun to weigh heavily on him. The once-familiar hum of productivity now felt like a constant drone of inefficiency and frustration.

He reached his desk, a fortress of cluttered paperwork and half-drunk coffee mugs. The disarray mirrored his mental state. With a sigh, he slumped into his chair, feeling the day’s tension in his shoulders. It was going to be one of those days.

Stella, his assistant and personal unofficial coffee guru, was his next hope for a small respite. He picked up the phone and dialed her extension.

"Stella! I could really use a cup of coffee. Just the usual."

As he hung up, he glanced at the clock. It was nearing eleven, and he’d already consumed three cups of coffee. His nerves were frayed, and his patience was wearing thin.

A knock on his office door heralded her arrival. Stella entered, holding a steaming cup of coffee with both hands, her warm smile a stark contrast to the icy demeanor Lucian had cultivated.

"Here you go, sir," she said, placing the cup on his desk.

Lucian glanced at the cup and then back at Stella. "Stella, could you make it a bit hotter? This one’s lukewarm."

Stella’s smile faltered for a moment but quickly returned. If he wanted hitter then why in God's name had he asked for the usual, she thought but dared not voice it out. "Sure thing. I’ll get a fresh one for you."

As she left, Lucian took a deep breath, trying to calm the bubbling irritation within him. His frustration wasn’t really with Stella. It was with the endless bureaucracy and the growing sense of disillusionment in his mind.

A few minutes later, Stella was back, carrying another cup. "I heated it for you. Is this better?"

Lucian picked up the cup, took a sip, and immediately scrunched up his face. "This is too hot now. I can barely drink it. Can you fix that?"

Stella’s patience was being tested, but she remained composed. "Of course, sir. I’ll get you a new cup."

She left again, and Lucian stared at the two mugs of coffee on his table feeling a surge of irritation. He knew he was being unreasonable, but the little things seemed to set him off more than usual.

"Stella, this still isn’t the right one. The coffee’s too plain. Can you maybe make it a little stronger?"

Stella’s forced cheerfulness was becoming increasingly strained. By now, her patience had clearly worn thin, but she still managed to keep her voice steady. "I’ll get another one for you, sir."

Lucian’s patience had worn thin. Stella’s movement around his office grated on his nerves, each step making his irritation flare.

When Stella came back with the fifth cup, she looked exhausted but still managed a smile. "I hope this one is to your liking."

Lucian took a sip and finally, for the first time that day, the coffee was just right. He felt a momentary surge of relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by his lingering discontent.

"I asked you for a strong coffee, not bitter herbs," Lucian lamented. Without a second thought, he reached for his coffee mug. He could feel the heat of the freshly brewed coffee through the ceramic, but he barely noticed as he gripped it tighter, and before she even looked up, he threw the mug right at her.

"Ouch!" Stella gasped as the coffee spilled forward, splashing onto her hand. She pulled back instinctively, her hand red and stinging. But she exhaled in relief almost immediately. It had narrowly missed her blouse and face, instead landing just on the back of her hand. She looked up at Lucian, her expression a mixture of shock, pain, and exasperation.

A tense silence hung between them, and Lucian could feel tears forming at the corners of her eyes. He didn’t care or so he thought. "But tell me why, five minutes after she had left, he had called Tristan, his friend and family doctor, to apply ointment on her arm if he didn't care?

"You can leave, Lucian dismissed her, feigning anger, but deep down, he didn't want to see her tears, just the thought of seeing her crying because of him made his heart ache. He was already regretting what he had done.

As she turned to leave, Lucian watched her walk away and felt a wave of frustration wash over him, feeling a twinge of guilt. It wasn’t fair to take out his frustrations on her. She had done everything he had commanded her to, despite his unreasonable demands.

He knew it wasn’t Stella’s fault. It was the whole environment, the endless cycle of dissatisfaction. He was trapped in a professional rut.

He took another sip of his coffee and tried to focus on his work, but his thoughts kept drifting to her pained expression. The coffee was a small comfort, but it wasn’t enough to fix the larger issues at hand.

Lucian felt terrible, but the worst was that she hadn't complained or lashed out at him, if she would have done that maybe he wouldn't have felt the way he was feeling at the moment.

"You only got ten minutes to be here otherwise you should start counting your ass dead meat, Lucian send Antony a text message before burying his head on the piles of files that were scattered on his desk, not like he could concentrate anyway, the situation had only worsened his concentration.