All Chapters of Taste Me Like It's Our Last Day On Earth : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Phoenix I felt the fresh air on my face when I stepped out of the car. It was quite cold and carried the scent of salt in it. Elysium Ridge was located directly at the end of a lofty cliff. From the dark cliffs, the rocks plunged into the mighty sea below. Victor got out of the car, he put a hard helmet on top of his dark hair, and in a stylish way he dressed in black coat, the boots were so thick, it looked like they can even survive the fall of an airplane from 30,000 feet. He didn't belong to that landscape, and yet he somehow seemed to have it all to himself. He hadn't given me even a single glance since we had left his place about two hours ago. Octavia came out from the back seat, her face was so angry it almost looked ridiculous as she ran her hand on the surface of her light jacket, and her high heels got completely stuck in the ground that was just soft enough not to damage her shoes. "I really don't see why we got here so early, " Octavia said, and raised her han

Phoenix My knees were still a little shaky under the glass table. At one end of the long conference room, I was sitting, cradling the mug of tea in my hand. That tea was already cold and it felt warm because I had been holding it the whole time. After the incident on the cliff yesterday, my jacket still had a hint of that kind of wetness. Victor touching me in that area, pinning me against the wall in that room, that memory still lingered. We did the short, silent trip without saying much more. "We must first deal with what happened at Elysium Ridge and, after that, look at the quarterly budget, " Octavia's voice broke through the silence clearly. Victor sat at the far end, his dark suit crisp, his face completely blank. He didn't even look at me. "Miss Veyl's irresponsibility brought close to forty thousand in the loss of specialized surveying equipment, " Octavia continued, fixing me with her stare that was both piercing yet threateningly icy. "The moment the storm a

Victor I summoned the meeting for eight o'clock exactly, and the heads of every department were in that conference room by 7:55, because when I say emergency I mean it. "I'll keep this short." I didn't sit down. "Someone in this building has been spreading rumors about a member of my staff, and I don't care who started it. I just want it stopped immediately." Everyone remained still, and no one dared to make a sound. If I get one more whisper, one more comment by her desk, one more name in a group text, you will be a history. Not just suspended, but that would be the end. And I'll make sure no company in this city touches your resume again. Ever! Someone near the back cleared their throat, which prompted me to turn around to see someone clearing his throat. "That's all. Get back to work." Everyone left immediately I finished my warning as all of them felt scared of who would be the scapegoat, but I stayed by the window until the last person left, keeping my jaw tight and

Phoenix My eyes still burned from crying in the cab, but I refused to let the women in the grand ballroom see me bleed. I pushed the front of my deepest green silk gown nervously and sighed. The fabric was molded to the back of my hips, revealing the purple bruises on my wrist where Octavia had grasped me. I'd been in the bathroom of the Imperial Hotel for forty minutes, trying to hide the angry greenish pink remnants of the red scrape along my cheek with too much concealer in the hope that no one would realize I looked like a street fighter. In the middle of the shimmering ballroom, Victor stood beneath a giant crystal chandelier, looking like a god carved from black granite. His tuxedo was fitted to perfection, and his dark hair was slicked to perfection, a glass of double scotch resting loosely in his hand. He was surrounded by three senior board members, nodding along to their corporate chatter with an easy, terrifying aura of total control. He hadn't looked at me sin

Phoenix "If you break even one pencil, intern, I'll deduct it from your final check." Octavia's loud voice dragged me out of my own head as she slammed a heavy leather folder down on my drafting board. I jerked as a thick cloud of white paper dust exploded into the air, flying straight into my face and making my eyes burn. I blinked through the dust, looking up from my dark, locked monitor. And there was Octavia, standing over me with her arms crossed tight over her crisp blazer, her dark eyes gleaming with pure malice and she looked at me like I was a parasite that had crawled into her pristine world. "This is the Vanderbilt Manor redesign," she said, her long, blood red nail tapping hard against the thick leather. "Three senior partners worked on this historic project last year and all three failed to pass the historical preservation board. So your boss, Victor, wants a complete preliminary draft on his desk by Friday morning." I instantly felt my stomach drop into a bott