Protection

Biriyani

Zayan's POV

Hassan came storming down the door as usual. The sound of the door smashing against the wall was so loud that the whole room vibrated. I continued to work and didn't even bother to look up.

"I can't believe you!" Hassan said out of the blue without any context. I looked up and to my surprise, a shaken Zahra stood beside him with no coffee in sight.

Her one blue eye shined like the ocean as the light the sun offered made her eyes shine like those blue evil eye emojis. Her other eye was a beautiful shade of almond color. She looked down when she realized that I stared at her like the creep I have officially become.

"What have I done now," I said looking down at the papers and trying to concentrate on my work again. Hassan screaming at me like this was nothing new.

"You sent that poor girl through hell for a bloody coffee"

"I wanted to change things up a bit and it's not like I am not paying her"

"She fell and burned her hand with that bloody coffee of yours, I found her on the streets crying. Slapping her to the ground wasn't enough or what!"

"How would I know she would fall" of course, she would. She is good for nothing, can't even do a simple task like bring a fucking coffee.

I looked at her disheveled form again. Her face had droplets of water, the hideous makeup she wore earlier nowhere in sight. The cut was slowly starting to heal leaving a brown tail on her bottom lip. Her clothes had wet patches. Her left hand was covered in a bandage, but her right hand was red and slightly swollen. She looked down at the ground again not meeting my eyes at all.

She looked so vulnerable and innocent and here I was inflicting unnecessary pain on her.

No, I did nothing wrong. She is my assistant, and doing these small errands for me is a part of her job.

"Fear God Zayan or at least raise her salary for dealing with your bratty behavior"

I can raise her salary a bit.

"And apologize to her"

"That is not going to happen," I said before he could even finish his sentence.

I refuse to let that weird nightmare where I apologize to her become real.

She quietly sat down in front of me. She was shivering in fright and refused to meet my eyes. She clumsily opened the computer while barely managing to hold the pen and write today's date on the paper.

She was terrified of me. Maybe I should take my expectations down a few notches. She was still young with no experience in this field.

Hassan sat down beside her, but he quickly got busy on his phone. After all, this wasn't his real job anyway and only a display in front of the public.

"Can you copy-paste this contract to your computer word for word?" I asked her.

Our sensor could do that easily, but I wanted her to relax a bit by giving her something easy to do for now. With her low IQ, I am sure this is rocket science for her.

I could fire her, there is no use in her. I do everything myself anyway. She can't do shit, but I am being nice here. Who would know how expensive, and exhausting it is to be nice? How do people do this all the fucking time?

I better go to paradise for being this nice to her and not firing her on the spot.

If it wasn't for her pretty face, I would throw her out a long time ago.

She is simply a mere cute decoration for my office. An expensive one with a monthly subscription, but a pretty one nonetheless I thought while admiring the beautiful shade of almond on her left eye and then the blue one.