Chapter 8: An Unwanted Obsession

Elena's POV

I stepped back as Seraphina slowly descended the staircase, her short maid uniform barely reaching her thighs.

For weeks, she'd been desperately seeking Damien's attention, but her efforts had yielded nothing. Somehow, she'd decided I was responsible for her failure.

What exactly did that have to do with me?

"Such a slut," I muttered under my breath.

Seraphina immediately stopped on the fifth step, her head snapping in my direction.

I was standing at the base of the staircase.

With her bright red lipstick, long black wavy hair, and dark eyes, she looked intimidating as she descended the remaining steps.

"Haven't I warned you to stay away from the boss's wing?" she demanded.

"I only came to collect his laundry..."

"And you think that's a good enough reason to be here?" she interrupted. "You're nothing but a lowly commoner and his slave. Why am I even wasting my time explaining anything to you? Besides, he hates you. Surely, you haven't forgotten that, have you?"

I stared at her, trying to understand what exactly she wanted from me.

"What do you want from me, Seraphina?" I finally asked.

Just then, I heard footsteps approaching from behind me.

I turned and spotted two familiar faces.

Prisma and Sofia.

Great. Now they're complete

What do they want from me this time?

Seraphina folded her arms across her chest, inspecting her fingernails.

"You want to know what I want?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I opened my mouth to respond, but something stopped me.

Knowing Seraphina, agreeing to whatever she was about to say would probably be another mistake.

"Look, Seraphina, I don't have time for this. Just excuse me so I can finish my work."

SLAP!

My eyes widened as her palm connected sharply with my cheek.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I exclaimed, touching my burning cheek.

"There you go, girl!" Prisma cheered.

My anger finally got the better of me. I raised my hand to return the slap, but before I could do anything, Prisma kicked my knee.

"Ahhh!"

My legs buckled, and I stumbled forward, clutching my knee.

"What's the matter, Elena?" Seraphina mocked, letting out a low chuckle.

"Now, listen carefully," she began. "You either find a way to get Boss Damien to notice me, or I'll make your life miserable in this mansion. Do you understand?"

"Exactly!" Sofia added. "Learn your place here. When someone gives you an instruction, you obey."

I slowly lifted my head.

"I honestly don't understand what you're talking about. If you want the boss's attention so badly, why don't you approach him yourself instead of disturbing me?"

For a moment, they stared at me before bursting into laughter.

"She's becoming quite bold these days," Seraphina remarked.

"Come on, girls. Let's leave this pathetic thing alone."

They walked away, their laughter gradually fading down the hallway.

I remained where I was for a few seconds before wiping away the tear that had slipped down my cheek.

I hated crying because of people like them.

"If only they knew how much I disliked Damien," I muttered. "Perhaps they'd stop bothering me about getting his attention."

With a frustrated sigh, I picked myself up and continued upstairs.

I collected Damien's clothes and placed them inside the laundry basket. Although I'd visited his room countless times, I still couldn't get over its classic interior design. Everything was perfectly arranged, from the expensive furniture to the enormous paintings.

However, I didn't have time to admire it.

I needed to finish my work before Damien returned.

At the back of the mansion, I entered the laundry room and began washing his clothes.

One thing I hated about working for Damien was his ridiculous restrictions.

He had explicitly forbidden me from using his washing machine, even when washing his clothes. Instead, he always instructed the guards to monitor me.

Sometimes, I wondered whether he thought I would steal his precious washing machine.

After what felt like forever, I finally finished washing and hanging the last piece of clothing.

Just then, my stomach growled.

"Seriously? I really need to eat something."

I stepped out and checked the clock in the hallway.

Three o'clock.

"Finally! At least I can get something to eat now."

I hurried towards the kitchen, already imagining a decent meal.

However, the moment I stepped inside, the strong aroma of food hit my nostrils.

I froze.

Something about the smell suddenly made my stomach turn.

I covered my mouth, swallowing hard as an uncomfortable feeling rose in my throat.

"What on earth..."

I couldn't even finish my sentence.

For some strange reason, I suddenly felt like throwing up.

Damien's POV

I loosened my tie the moment I stepped into my office.

What a tiring day!

I removed my suit jacket and hung it over the back of my chair before dropping into my seat with a heavy sigh.

The meeting with my international business associates had been exhausting.

My uncle had insisted that I personally handle the negotiations with the foreign investors so they could sign an agreement with our company and expand their brands into City A.

I'd spent hours listening to endless presentations, financial projections, and business proposals.

I rubbed my temples.

"Finally, some peace."

Or so I thought.

My office door suddenly opened, and Ivan walked in holding a stack of files.

"Boss..."

I didn't respond.

"Boss?" he called again.

Still nothing.

He sighed dramatically.

"Well, I'm only calling you that because you were acting like one a few moments ago."

I slowly turned towards him.

Ivan was one of the few people I'd considered worthy enough to become my personal assistant. He was intelligent, organised, and efficient.

Unfortunately, he also had an annoying habit of talking too much.

"What's it?" I asked flatly.

"Nothing much. Just brought the summary files from the meeting."

He dropped them onto my desk before throwing himself onto the couch.

"Ehh, pretend not to hear me all you want, but even during the meeting, you looked like your mind was somewhere else."

I glanced at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't give me that look. I've known you long enough to recognise when something is bothering you."

I scoffed.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"I do. But watching you behave strangely is becoming more interesting."

I ignored him and leaned back in my chair.

Maybe he's right.

Ever since I'd slept with Elena, something about me had changed.

I couldn't explain it.

She kept appearing in my thoughts at the most inconvenient moments, I keep remembering how soft her body is, he slim waist and big well rounded butts, the soft peaks of her boobs, so enjoyable, he fearful face while I thrust hard into her, so furking sexy to remember. But why, I keep recalling that moment every freaking time. During meetings, while reviewing documents, and even when I was supposed to be concentrating on important business decisions.

It was becoming an obsession.

Why was I thinking about her so much?

She was nothing more than a girl who worked in my mansion.

A girl whose family had contributed to the destruction of mine.

Her family was responsible for the tragedy that had taken away the only parent my siblings and I had.

I had never forgotten that pain.

And I certainly wasn't going to allow one night to make me forget everything.

She's just another person under my control. Nothing more.

If I wanted to keep her close, I could. Nobody in that mansion would dare question my decisions.

So why was my mind refusing to cooperate?

"Damien!"

Ivan's sudden voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I blinked.

"What?"

He stared at me suspiciously.

"Are you even listening to a word I've been saying?"

"I heard you."

"Really? Then what did I say?"

I stared at him.

He burst into laughter.

"Exactly! You weren't listening."

I exhaled sharply and stood up.

"You're becoming annoying."

"Me? I'm annoying? Look who's talking!" He spread his arms dramatically. "Man, you've been sitting there like someone who just lost his favourite possession."

"Watch your mouth, Ivan."

"Okay, okay. No need to get aggressive."

I reached for my phone and keys.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Out."

"Out? Now?"

I put on my suit jacket.

"Is there a problem?"

Ivan checked his wristwatch.

"It's barely three in the afternoon. Don't you have another appointment?"

"Reschedule it."

He stared at me.

"You're seriously leaving?"

"Send the summary files to the mansion by eight tonight."

"Wait! What am I supposed to tell the other associates?"

"Whatever you think is appropriate."

"Damien!"

I was already outside before he could say anything else.

I walked towards the elevator, pressing the button impatiently.

Damn it!

Why was I behaving this way?

Why couldn't I concentrate whenever Elena crossed my mind?

I loosened my tie again and stared at the elevator doors.

What exactly is that girl doing to my head?