CHAPTER 11- DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

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//I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

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//I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream.//

-Taylor Swift? 

Nah.

-Robert Downey Jr.


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Misha was an innocent girl. When she thought working for Dr Downey was the most prestigious thing to happen in her life, little did she know that she had signed up for the most cold-blooded death agreement with the devil.

For her, Dr Robert Downey Jr. was the knight in shining armour, when in fact, upon closer inspection, he was Darth Vader, wielding a sword of sin, equipped to stab her corrupt.

"Not you, Dr Misha. Stay behind." He orders, without turning.

And the steps, heartbeat, brain, and life of Misha freezes for the umpteenth time today.

'Of course. Why in the hell did I think I was getting out of it this easily!?' her subconscious yells.

Oh honey, you sure are IN the hell.

She slowly turns around, expecting him to still be standing with his back to her, but instead he's sitting on his huge chair, legs propped up on the table, playing with his fingers.

She slowly turns around, expecting him to still be standing with his back to her, but instead he's sitting on his huge chair, legs propped up on the table, playing with his fingers

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Alright, Pietro Maximoff.

Well, he's basically lying on the chair. He has that look on the face that Misha can't contemplate. It's the classic Robert look. Face relaxed, eyes at ease, and the smirk that is more freighting than any scowl, frown or grimace. It's the smirk that represent the beginning of a tempest that could destroy anyone to bits.

Robert was a confusing man. Misha couldn't understand his change of conduct. A moment ago he was seething, ready to fire her from the medical damn world, and now he's acting as calm as the sea before the storm. He has mastered the art of hiding his thoughts so well that Misha has no idea that he has already thought of so many different ways to ravage her.

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