Chapter 2

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Season 1 Episode 2

Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.

Season 1 Episode 2

Mahira POV

I frowned at the numerous Valentine's Day decorations that were plastered all over my workplace, as if the Cupid gods had bleed all over it. I had gotten a few paper hearts from the ceiling, but my arms hurt from holding them up for so long.

Whoever did this was going to have a long life of pain, and I wished it all on them. I sighed as I threw myself onto the office chair. My father has failed to call back, and I suspect he was ignoring my call. He undoubtedly intended me to crawl up the elevator and beg him to let me be the floor's lone manager.

But I'll sit here and watch the sun blaze across the sky, until the storm cloud brings rain, and paradise descends on Earth.

I rotated my office chair till my gaze fell on the silver picture frame sandwiched between a pen holder and an office stapler. I grabbed for it, a smile on my lips, glancing at her. I assumed I had everything with her. My life was fantastic. Until she meets someone better and leaves, crossing the nation to live in Europeans. Some days, I think about her. Was she happy? Did she realize that when she went, she took a piece of me away, a piece that I'll never get with anyone?

A knock on the door shocked me, and I slammed the frame down. I gasped, realized my error, and lifted the frame, exhaling as I noticed no cracks.

"Come inside." I yelled. Chaos persisted. It was as if this Angelo bitch had walked in and kicked the ant nest, raising up everything. I couldn't face them, couldn't assure them everything was going to be well. Because I had no idea if the chair I was sitting in would still be mine.

My father came in. Great. Just the white hair, wrinkled face bitch, in an expensive suit, I want to see. He closed the door, drowning out the screams of tortured souls.

"My daughter. So glad to see you."

I scowled at him; he held a single file in his right hand and hurled it on my desk, where it flew straight in front of me. I slapped my hand down to prevent the file from falling off the desk and landing on the floor.

"Why such a gloomy expression, my child?" His frail voice asked.

"You betrayed me."

"Me, with whom?"

"It's my floor."

"Psh." He sat slowly, and I could hear his bones rattling. He groaned, reaching into his jacket suit for a handkerchief to wipe away his perspiration, which smelled of treachery.

"I would agree; you, too, betrayed this firm."

My jaw gaped open. "How could you say such things." I whined. "Father, it is not fair that you handed someone a portion of my share. She isn't even family."

"Well strangers are better, don't you think?"

"No."

"Don't you see how dreadful it looks out there?" I pointed out the turmoil. "When I was fully in control, none of it occurred."

His hands rested on my desk, clenched together. "That's because you brush everything under the rug, whereas she sweeps it up correctly."

"Where else do I sweep it?"

"Out in the wind." He grinned. "Don't worry, my child; she won't steal your portions."

"Whatever. I need a vacation." I murmured, opening the folder, my eyes dazzled by the numbers, but they were all followed by a subtraction sign. "What is this?"

"The monthly loss experienced by this level since you took over as manager."

"What? How is that possible?"

"With all the vacation you take."

"Vacations are not too expensive." My narrowed eyes peered at the huge figures. I hastily closed the folder. It was too much to look at. It was evident that I had not checked the pricing; I just spent on whatever I wanted.

"Money is for spending."

"Indeed, child. But not to squander."

"I do not squander money." I denied. "Okay, maybe I do. But what is a second-floor manager going to do? Is she going to be my mentor, teaching me how not to waste money?" I cracked up at my mockery. Nobody was going to disrupt the opulent lifestyle I had planned.

"Where did you get this, bitch?"

"All the way from Italy."

"Why would you bring someone from all over the world to an offshore floor? There is nothing wrong with my floor. Daddy, don't worry about the figures. They are merely figures from an accountant who is attempting to intimidate you." I reached out and touched his unsteady, wrinkled arms. "You know I love you, Daddy. Let her go to a different floor." I whined.

"It's already done, child. When you start to progress, I'll move her to another floor."

I glared. "Daddy, didn't you hear me whimpering? I told you I loved you." My eyes well up with tears. A single tear slipped out. It was "The technique," which I learnt in Dark Femininity class. Men are unable to endure a woman's tears, so you use them against them. It was a manipulative tactic.

He glanced aside. "Look at me, Daddy."

"No, you need her to help you alter your habits, or I will knock you off the shareholder. If I die, you will not receive a single dime."

My eyes widen with fear. I was mortified. This terrified me.

My strategy was meant to work, but then I realized he was my father, not my partner.

"You change, and I'll reconsider my request to remove you from the share holders."

"Fine. Simply stop talking about it. I'll be good from now on." I sighed and collapsed on my chest, completely defeated.

His hand tenderly caressed my scalp. "This is for your own good, princess." He bent down to kiss my head.

There was now only one thing on my mind: get rid of her.



I make the chapters super short and enjoyable. Some of us have short attention span or sneaking reading.

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