Lord and Loyaltist

Chapter 3

Andres

Sitting at the head of a gleaming conference table on the 30th floor of my corporate tower, I delved into a high-stakes business discussion with my partners. The room exuded an air of authority as I effortlessly commanded their attention.

"As you can see, gentlemen, our expansion into the Asian market is imminent," I stated with confidence, gesturing towards the presentation on the screen.

My partners nodded in agreement, their expressions a mixture of approval and contemplation. They had always been in awe of my sharp business acumen and my knack for turning ventures into gold.

"Alex," I addressed one of my senior partners, "I need those projections finalized by tomorrow morning."

"Okay, Andres," Alex replied, diligently noting my request.

Leaning back in my chair, I exuded power. I had a reputation for making complex deals appear effortless, and it had propelled me to billionaire status and beyond. The world admired me, especially the female population, who often fawned over my wealth and charisma.

Turning my attention to my secretary's desk, I realized I required an essential file for our discussion. Without hesitation, I barked, "Eric, fetch me the R&D project file."

Silence. No response.

Annoyance crept into my voice as I repeated, "Eric, did you hear me? I need that file."

Still nothing.

Frustration boiled over as I slammed my hand on the desk. "Eric! Are you being incompetent again?"

And then, it hit me. My secretary, Eric, wasn't there to attend to my demands. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I remembered his predicament. He was in the hospital, dealing with his own crisis.

With practiced grace, I concluded the business meeting, offering my partners a curt handshake. "Gentlemen, George will see you out."

George, my ever-loyal personal assistant, ushered the partners out of the office, leaving me alone in the expansive space. I leaned back in my leather chair, steepling my fingers in contemplation.

Wendy Jones, the name echoed in my thoughts. I couldn't shake the image of the determined young woman who had boldly confronted me, seeking help for her father. Despite my initial dismissal and my general disdain for women in my professional life, her tenacity had made an impression on me.

As I sat alone in my office, I found myself pondering her situation, a sensation I wasn't accustomed to. There was something about Wendy's plight that intrigued me, a spark of curiosity that refused to fade away.

I stood up and walked to the window. I looked out of the transparent window to have a view of the landscape, I can't help but remember her presence standing outside there and looking up at the twenty second floor of this tower. Her hair, a cascade of silky chestnut strands, flowed gently down to her shoulders, catching the sunlight and shimmering with every step she took as she walked away to stop a cab.

Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of deep emerald green, seemed to hold a universe of secrets within them. They sparkle with an inner light, drawing me in like a moth to a flame, when she was in the elevator.

Her nose, perfectly proportioned, graced her face with elegant symmetry. It's as if an artist meticulously crafted every detail, and I can't help but admire the graceful curve of it.

The structure of her face was a harmonious blend of softness and refinement. High cheekbones accentuated her delicate features, while a gentle jawline added a hint of allure. Her lips, naturally rosy, offer a subtle invitation to conversation.