I’M NOT YOUR UNCLE.

DAMIEN. 

She fakes an innocent smile. I knew she had a lot of things going on in her mind, and she was probably calling me names in her head right now, but I didn't care; I just didn't. A lot of things were at stake now that she wanted to intern at my workplace. 

“I can’t do that to my new boss,” she said in the most sweetest tone. She did that to annoy me, but she was also doing a lot of other things to me that she didn't want to know about. 

      

“How about your husband?” I baited her. 

      

Her lips fall open again, and I revel in that, probably more than I should. I stopped the smirk that was threatening to make an appearance on my face. 

      

I love taking her off guard, making her bothered in her own fucking skin. It’s a small taste of what she does to me all the fucking time, and I can't stop swearing when I'm in her presence, and it bothers me so fucking much. 

Fuck. 

      

“I can call you names,” she whispers, looking like she couldn't kill an ant. Like she wasn't all talk just a few seconds ago. 

      

“Such as Uncle Damien?”

      

“That was because I wanted to…”

      

“What? Get attention? Provoke me? Get me to react? What exactly were you thinking about?”

      

“I don’t know,” she said, looking genuinely lost. 

      

“I’ll call you kiddo until you figure it out, then,” I said, using the one name she hated the most. 

      

“Not that! I…just wanted to provoke you, I think.”

      

“Will you be repeating it?”

      

“No.”

      

“Good, or else you’ll be back to being kiddo.” To think I was the one asking her to call me by the title “uncle” just a few weeks ago, and now the sound of that made me want to puke everything in my tummy out. I was anything but her uncle; an uncle wouldn't think about her the way I did. I was fucked up. 

      

Her lips part again, and a bright fucking light shines in her gaze. But instead of focusing on the happiness she’s projecting in waves, on how pleased she is about not being a kiddo anymore, I march to my desk,  retrieve a thick case file, and push it at her chest.

I ignored the tightness I felt in my chest. I will not acknowledge why being the reason she smiled made me feel uneasy in my stomach, or the fact that I wanted to continue being the reason she smiled. 

      

“Go through the previous case records and find me something I can use.” 

      

She remains there, fingers wrapped around the file. 

“That’s all?” she asked, looking surprised. 

      

“What else should there be? You asked for an internship, and this is it. I won’t take it easy on you, Anastasia. In fact, it’ll just get more difficult going forward. So if you don’t have the will to go through this, walk away now.”

      

“I can do it. I will do it.” I knew she would. The fierce look of determination on her face said it all, and I knew she was going to crush all obstacles in her way just to prove to me that she could do this. 

      

“If you say so.” There was no need for her to know that I knew she could do it. 

      

“You don’t believe me?”

      

“I don’t believe things I don’t see.”

      

“You’re so cynical, you know that?”

      

“And you’re still standing here. Go work and behave.”

      

Her hold on the file falters, and I lean forward in case she drops it.

      

She bites her lower lip, and I don’t take my eyes off it, watching her wet it, her teeth nibbling on the plump cushion before she finally releases it. “B-behave?” 

Now she was playing with fire. Why the fuck was she looking at me like that, and what was that? Was she doing this intentionally? Why did she bite her lips like that? What the fuck. 

I closed my eyes and tried praying to the gods, or goddesses, or whatever was in the clouds to grant me self-control because I was about to lose the one I had. 

It’s like we’re playing a game of cat and mouse, and I don’t think I have the will to stop where this game is going anymore. I don't think I do; I could feel the control slipping through my fingers, and I didn't have the strength to hold it back. 

      

Or maybe I lost control of it a while ago, and I’m only just admitting it now. Just maybe. 

      

Either way, this is heading in a dangerous fucking direction, and I’m letting it. Stopping it would mess with my sanity, and it wouldn't do me any good. 

      

Because fuck this. Fuck whatever is left of my conscience. I’ve never had one anyway, so I might as well stop pretending it’s there. I might as well be the selfish man everybody knew me to be. 

      

“Yes, Anastasia. Behave, or you’ll pay.”