CONDEMNATION ✓

Chapter 14

Raising a hand, you beat the brunt of your palm against the wooden surface in anger. You gave it three firm knocks before yanking your hand back down and glaring at the door as if it had insulted your mother. You weren't happy about seeing who was on the other side, your fingers fidgeted and twisted, and you could feel them sweating. You were nervous; why were you nervous?! You should be angry, which you also were.

"Come in." The deep devilish voice purred a second later, instantly making you want to gag. 

You slammed your hands down on the two brass handles and pushed the double doors inward. You had never stepped foot in his office; you never wanted to. You still didn't, though the sight that greeted your eyes was more than you expected.  

Glossed plain wood floors spread across a spacious room. Four double pane windows separated in sets of two and draped elegantly with white and black curtains and a well-kept potted plant between them. There was an entire grey leather living room set off to the left, a glass coffee table in the center, and two caramel-colored marble end tables. A vase of white lilies is placed elegantly as a centerpiece of the coffee table. Two off-yellow but still vibrant, abstract yellow paintings hung above the lounge set, just the room's left side. 

The right housed a desk, long and cherry wood in color. It almost looked to be the length of your king-sized bed. A pompous black leather computer chair resting needly behind. A bookshelf that took up nearly the entire wall was packed with literature and nicknacks. A framed picture of Stocgate hung neatly in the middle and was lit up brightly by an overhead light. 

The room smelled of vanilla, faint traces of the white flowers and floral plants trickled in the air, and behind that abnormally long desk sat the man you despised, R. You had to admit, this wasn't what you expected when you envisioned him locked away in his study. You imagined his overconfident frame resting perfectly atop a golden throne, barely holding up his ego. A pile of bodies at his feet of all that had 'disobeyed' him. But this was like stepping into the office of the CEO, well kept, clean, not a speck of dust in sight. 

It took a minute for your eyes to roll over to R as he sat behind his desk; black frame glasses graced the bridge of his nose. He was in nothing more than a white-collar shirt; sleeves rolled up, and a pair of black slacks with shined oxfords. His tattoos destroyed his professional attire and brought you back to the reality of what he was, who he was. 

"I came to get my cut." You tilted your head high, letting your bare feet glide across the hardwood floor as the doors shut softly behind you. You straightened your shoulders and held yourself tall, almost standing on the tips of your toes to make yourself seem bigger. 

R didn't raise his head. Pen in hand, he was scribbling away at something on his desk, his dark demonic eyes fixated on his paperwork, not even bothering to give you the time of day. He released a low hum, dipping the end of his pen toward an envelope near the edge of his desk, silently signaling that it was yours to take. 

You took in a quiet and deep breath. Drawing closer, admittedly a bit slower than you originally would have in your hesitation toward the man behind the desk. Perhaps you could snag it and leave without having to exchange pointless pleasantries.  

Reaching his desk, you kept a distance. You tried to take a side-eye at what he was writing down, but the letters were too far, and at first glance, they almost seemed to be in a language you couldn't even read. Instead, you dismissed your curiosity, slapped your hand down atop the white envelope, and started to pull it back to you. 

Of course, it wasn't that easy. It never was with him. Before the paper could leave the surface, R slapped his hand down on the other end and halted its movement. Not allowing you to take what you felt was yours. Your eyes narrowed, glaring at him from your lashes as he finally set down his pen and removed his black frame glasses from his eyes, setting them off to the side.