THE FILING DESK

ELENA’S POV

I slowly raised my head, unsure I heard right. That’s new. And odd, very odd.

“What do you mean?” I asked, surprised. 

“I mean what I said. I realized that having you in the office isn’t so productive and efficient as I’d hoped,” he reasoned, and my ears perked up excitedly. Was this what I’m thinking he’ll say? Will I be free from him and have my peace for few hours? Please, Lord of everything true, grant me this one wish, and I’d never ask for anything. Pleasee, I’m begging you, God, please.

“I know, right? In fact, it was counter productive.”

“I’m thinking of moving you to the filing desk till we can sort you what you can do,” he replied, cutting through a fillet before popping it into his mouth. My body sagged, dejected.

Not exactly what I was hoping for.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? The filing desk? To do what, send a fax? Staple paper? What am I, some kind of printing press?” I fumed and shot up from my seat in indignation, I suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore.

“You are what I tell you to. So the earlier you get that into your head, the easier it will be for both of us. Am I clear?”

I huffed angrily. I hated how he always seemed to override me and have so much power over me, like someone was dangling sweet blackmail material over my head. “I don’t know who you think you are, trying so hard to control me like some god or like the almighty. But get off your high horse, Vance. You won’t be controlling me for long, you don’t own me,” I spat, taunting him with my eyes. Let’s see if he can stop me from doing what I want to.

He smirked, his eyes dark, his smile menacing, evil, yet enchanting, drawing me in, matching mine as he closed in on me. “I own you, Elena Carter. And it seems you keep forgetting that. Some sip of freedom you’ve had, that I’ve given you,” he growled, and before I could blink, he had me pinned on the counter with his huge frame, one of his hands successfully holding my two arms above my head. “And you suddenly think you can go against me. I could have killed you in jail. In fact, I could kill you right now,” he said lowly, nearing me as he looked at me with maniacal eyes, and I felt fear seep into the fibre of my being.

This man was scary. And I knew it.

“Let me go,” I spat, struggling from beneath him. But it was no use, he was too strong. He laughed at my weak attempts to free myself. Softly yet as dark as hell’s pit. The kind of laugh that harbored thoughts I wouldn’t dream of wanting to stick around to find out. The kind that seeped into the walls and resonated in them. You knew from that laugh that nothing good ever came out of it. When he finally looked me in the eyes, with dark mirth in his gaze, heat pooled between my legs.

“The only thing keeping you alive now is that I need you to find proof that your sister and her husband are the killers,” he continued, ignoring my struggling and squirming like I was some bug he couldn't care less about. “Otherwise, you’re useless to me. So you better learn to treat me with respect or I’ll return you where you belong. And you’ll stay there for a crime you didn’t commit.”

I gulped visibly, feeling stuffy and suffocated. The fear of jail and the contract hung over my head and I nodded. He finally let go off me and I did what I had thought of doing since I got here. What even I was shocked I did.

I kicked him. In the shin.

I’d have loved to kick him where the sun does not shine, but this one will have to do. For now. He swore, hissing as he bucked over with his hand over his knee in pain, his eyes turning sharply to me like he was ready to snuff life out of me. I quickly ran backwards, putting a bit of space between us. “The next time you threaten me with jail or killing me, I’ll show you what I’m made of, got it?” I snapped, my eyes wide too like a crazy bitch.

“I’m sick in the head, too, jerk. And I’ll kill myself and make you the murderer for it. So don’t you ever threaten me. Ever again!” I eyed him with contempt. “If you claim to be the almighty Damien Vance, all your resources should be enough to find evidence against my sister and Adrian. Why don’t you throw me back in jail, huh?” I shrieked, stumping towards him, visibly angry.

“Or better still, kill me off. Yes, kill me and use your amazing resource to find proof. Why don’t you do just that?!”

He blinked, staring at me in disbelief. I was sure he didn’t think I would react this way. Even I was surprised at myself. When he saw me do it to Miss Dennis bitch ass, he thought it was dope, calling me good girl. Good girl, my fucking ass.

I stalked towards him, and he moved backwards, eyes still wide with shock. “Now listen to me, Damien Vance, because I will not repeat myself twice. If you think Elena Carter is some soft, scared, bird-brained blonde bimbo, think again. That Elena is gone. Dead and buried. So don’t you ever, in your life, dare to threaten me, not with the contract, not with jail. Or else.” 

My eyes turned devilish. “The same way I’m going after Charlotte and Adrian,” I said, letting out a sweet chuckle that was anything but. “Is the same way I’ll come for you. So do well to remember that. You don’t want to get on my bad side.