Vengeance

Chapter 3

Ava's POV

"Meet me in my study as soon as you finish up. Do not make me wait."

Mr. Hunt's voice rang in my head. I quickly finished up my breakfast and headed to his study. My heart was beating faster as my feet approached the study.
I was called to the study only when I had done something bad or if something bad was about to happen. There were no good memories of that room. Or the whole place for that matter.
I started thinking if I had made any mistakes in the last few days. Or was it what happened earlier during breakfast?
I had developed this overthinking personality since the only person I could freely talk to was myself. I could only trust myself. Before anyone could judge my actions, I preferred judging them myself.
Overthinking is bad for your mental health. I read that somewhere online. But I don't agree with that. I personally think that it's kind of a way to be cautious. When you already think about all the possible outcomes, you are pretty much prepared to face them.
But I won't deny the fact that no matter how much I think and prepare, I still fail to calm my nerves.

I stood in front of his study, took a deep breath and knocked at the door cautiously.

"Come in."

I slowly turned the doorknob and pushed it gently, feeling my sweaty palm slide over it. The unwantedly familiar deep, woodsy scent of rich mahogany along with hints of paper and leather hit my nostrils. I read it as a fact that smell is closely associated with memories and emotions, when I came across a paper on Psychology and Smell. That was true no doubt, considering all the scary flashbacks of 'lesson' sessions that started playing in my head, without my permission. I shivered.

First thing that one would get to see as soon as the study room's door opens is the vintage bookshelf, stacked with exotic collection of books and magazines that had gotten me eager for years but with no such luck whatsoever. Next thing would be the dark brown leatherette sofa, which my butt never had the chance to land on. To be specific, my butt had only been on either- one of the two matching pure leather chairs in the front of the mahogany desk or landed straight on the expensive Persian carpet with beautiful intricate designs, in this room. The stories behind both these situations were not very fun, trust me.

My feet took hesitant steps into the study and came to a halt right in the center of the rectangular room. My eyes landed on Mr. Hunt, who was sitting on his boss chair on the opposite side of the desk, reading some documents intently. I noticed his navy blue suit matched with a salmon pink tie. The old geezer definitely has some taste, I had to admit. I saw the way his grey hairs were perfectly gelled, not a strand out of place. I wondered if one of the maids helped him with all that everyday. Good Lord, I would die of high blood pressure if I had to pick out suits and gel his grey hair every morning. It's hard enough to have him sit on the same table for breakfast everyday. 

Hunt was not alone. Arthur, his one and only heir, sat there on one of the two chairs in front of his father's desk. I saw he had changed his outfit from joggers to black shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and grey pants. His Bleu De Chanel cologne overpowered all other scents in the room. He sat leisurely with his fingers tapping the arms of the chair in a certain uniform rhythm. His posture whined- Boredom but Impatience at the same time. The man was himself a Paradox. His mental capabilities didn't match his outer personality in the least. I saw his jaws tick as he was losing the last of his patience. He turned towards me as I came in. He turned towards me as I stood behind his chair.

I looked at him curiously and he had his usual wicked smile plastered on his face. But something was different. There was an evil glint in his eyes, which only increased my nervousness.

What is he up to now?

I remembered the first time we came across each other. Little did I know...