Morituro - Book 1

4

| CHAPTER FOUR |

"WIPE DOWN THE tables then you can go." Sandra instructs, pointing over to the now empty tables by the windows. I nod and do as she says, grabbing a wash cloth and cleaner solution then make my way over to the tables.

Once Raphael walked way from me earlier all that's been on my mind was him. Would he yell at me for ease dropping? Would he fire me? As much as I wish I could quit this job, I need it. Getting fired over something so reckless and stupid won't look good on my resume and won't do my ego any good.

Why did I even do it?

What compelled me to look into that office? I swear, every time I walk into this club it's as my every brain cells and common sense evaporates. My curiosity will definitely get me killed one of these days.

But, Raphael didn't look mad when he saw me. His eyes were full of amusement as if I was a child and he just caught me trying to sneak a cookie out of a cookie jar. He must think I'm some joke.

My hatred for him is growing with each passing hour I'm here. The more I think about what happened the more my mind goes into overdrive and I start to over think everything. Maybe he just wants to talk to me about my work ethic? What work ethic?

"Layla." Every time he says my name shivers run down my spine. He intimidates me on so many levels that I'm positive it isn't healthy. "Come to my office."

I nod and follow him across the room, stopping for a second to put the dirty rag in the sink and put the cleaner away. Sandra watches me with hawk like eyes and I make the mistake looking up at her. She shakes her head and puts an empty shot glass she was cleaning on the rack. I know she pours me in some way which makes me even more nervous about what's to come.

As he leads the way to his office I think of the perfect speech to get me out of getting fired. I could get him to feel sorry for my stupidity then beg for another chance, but I'm too prideful for that. He's also too heartless to give a damn about what I have to say.

We reach his office and I quickly sit in the leather chair across from his desk. My legs are shaking but it's not from being cold.

He doesn't sit at his desk, instead he walks to the large windows that views the busy city streets. His hands are nestled in his pants pockets and the cars light beams cast over his sharp features. If he wasn't about to fire me I would think he looks handsome.

"How much do you value this job?"

Is that a trick question? If I say a lot will he tell me too bad and kick me out like a piece of trash? How do I respond to such a question to a cold hearted man?

I clear my throat. "I need this job."

"But just because you need it doesn't mean you like it."

"I like it." Even my two ears picks up on the lie as I say it out loud. No doubt that he heard it also.

He chuckles and finally sits in his desk chair. "Then why act like you don't care about keeping your job, eh?"

My mind goes blank. All I can do is look down at my hands. I've never liked getting scolded at, something that I've dealt with my entire life. They would always nitpick my every move and if they saw something they didn't like I would be lectured on it. Back then I would lock myself in my room and cry but now it just makes me mad.

With some newfound confidence I look up into his eyes. Blue to brown, assessing and intimidating. "How so?"

He doesn't look taken aback which is what I was hoping for so I could gain the upper hand. I should know by now that this man will always have the upper hand in every situation.

"I don't like it when my employees try to snoop around my business. Especially when said employee lost me money." He unmoving, staring me down with his blue eyes.

"When have I ever lost you money?" If he's accusing me of stealing then I won't hold back and let out all the anger I hold inside of me out. One thing I will never allow anyone call me is a thief.

He stands up and walks around his desk towards the mini bar behind me. What he did to that boy in here replays in my mind. Will he do the same to me?

"Will was a regular here. Him and his buddies would come every night for a drink." He pours the dark liquid in the cup, "Now, him and his crew don't walk within a mile radius of here."

I didn't see that boy or any of his friends here since that night. But I refuse to believe what happened was my fault. Will put his hands on me, which is against the rules, and Salvatore put his hands on Will, which is against the law. I was just an innocent bystander.

"What does that have to do with me?" I sound strong. This meeting is making me get really heated, really fast.

He walks up to where I'm seated and puts his glass on the desk. "It has everything to do with you." He leans down and puts his hands on the armrests, caging me into the seat. I can smell his rich cologne and feel his body heat covering me like a blanket. "Maybe, if you weren't such a temptress he wouldn't have got the need to put his hands on you."

Time seems to slow as we glare at each other. Red burning hot rage oozes off of me in waves. It's always the women's fault, right? Whenever a man fucks up its always the women's fault.

I stand up, pushing his arms away from the chair. He towers over me and we are too close for comfort, but I won't let that intimidate me. "If you think, for a second that I wanted that kid to lay his hands on me, then you're wrong. If anyone is at fault here it's you for acted so impulsively and almost killing him."

Something shifts in his eyes, I don't know what it is but they seem to get darker. The color of the deepest part of the sea. He smirks and before I know it he spins me around and pushes me up against his desk.

My hair is in my face and my butt hurts from being bent in an uncomfortable position at the edge of his desk with my feet still on the ground. His chest is pushed against mine and he cages me me with his arms. "No one speaks to me that way, Layla."

His accent forming around my name makes me squeeze my legs together. My rage is replaced with pure lust. He's making me feel something that I've never felt before, a need to give into to my desires. From his eyes down to do his hard body pressed against mine I can't tell which way is up and all my focus is on him.

He knows it too.

As if he's in a trance his hand clutched on to my waist in a tight grip. A tiny gasp escapes my lips and he leans into my ear, "If you know what's good for you," His lips travel across my jaw to my mouth and our lips are barely touching, only a hairs length away. Oh, how I want to close the space between us. "You'll keep your mouth shut."

Before I can process what he said his warm touch leaves my body and he back away from me. His warmth is gone, leaving chills all over my body. His heated glare is the only sign that gives me reassurance that he felt what ever just happened between us.

My cheeks are flaming hot as I collect myself, pulling down the hem of my dress and stepping away from the desk. I don't say anything because I'm afraid if I do my voice will crack.

Overwhelming feelings wash down on me like someone dumped ice cold water over my head. I'm still very much angry but now I'm disappointed. Mostly still lustful for him.

He doesn't say anything either, instead he watches me. As if he's waiting for my next move. He wants me to challenge him. To give him what he wants and pounce on him.

I'm not that kind of girl.

With all the confidence I can muster within myself I give him one last glare and rush out of the thick atmosphere in his office, positive that if I stayed a moment longer I would do something I would later regret.

But would I regret it?

Not edited.