When I walked into Clarisse Newton's study that morning, I ca ard with two things. The first was proof that everything was going according to plan, my plan, and the second was of course, my best smile.
This might make sound like a pompous shit but I truly do believe my smile is the best weapon I have right now. Especially if I wanted to get into Clarisse's pants. Okay, I think I heard you scoff in skepticism. Don't worry, I'll prove you wrong.
Just as every other fucking tis I've been here, Clarisse was seated behind her desk. The only difference was, this ti, she was poring over a thick binder of what I assud were Apex financials. How in the heavens does she always have sothing new to do?!
Anywho, with the soft morning light spilling through the large windows of the ho office, she looked like she belonged in a magazine advertising furniture.
She didn't look up imdiately, but I was used to that. I've co to learn that with Clarisse, you had to earn her attention or so shit like that. That was part of the little ga we had going on. I'd hit on her and she'll pretend she wasn't enjoying the attention.
Another round begins.
"Good morning." I said, setting two cups of coffee on her desk. I'd have counted the coffee as a weapon but it was a shield. A reason to protect my continued presence, if you know what I'm saying. "Got you coffee. Black, no sugar, just how you like it."
Her eyes flicked up briefly, and even though her lips barely moved, there was the faintest hint of a smile. "You're learning."
"It's hard not to when you're so fascinating to study." I replied, pulling out the chair across from her and settling in. "Speaking of which, I've got so updates on our mutual friend, Charles Harrington."
She closed the binder and leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap. "Do tell."
I slid a tablet across the desk towards her, its screen already on the hopage of a major news network, displaying the day's financial headlines. The top story was pretty much impossible to miss.
"Harrington & Co. Plumts as Shares Hit All-Ti Low. CEO Charles Harrington Under Fire."
Her eyes scanned the headline, and even though her expression didn't change one bit, I knew she was pleased. Yes, Clarisse had mastered the art of the poker face, but she tended to lift her chin slightly when she was pleased. It's hard to notice but it's there.
"I have to admit," I said, watching her, "there's sothing poetic about seeing a man like Harrington brought down by his own hubris."
"Poetic?" Clarisse repeated, arching a perfectly sculpted eyebrow as she set the tablet down. "Hardly. This is just business, Nico."
"Business can be poetic." I countered with a smile, leaning forward slightly. "A carefully planned downfall, each piece falling like a domino into the other, creating a chain reaction that results in an explosion, all from the gunpowder of Charles' own making. It's practically art. And if it's art, Clarisse, then you're the muse."
She tilted her head, raising both brows in amusent. "Is that so?"
"You can't deny that you do inspire brilliance." I gave her a smile. "It's only natural."
She didn't respond imdiately, but the slight lift of her chin told everything I needed to know. I was, in fact, getting to her.
"The rumors about nepotism were a nice touch." I said, leaning back in my chair. "Undermining his credibility within the company. It didn't take much to organize the whole FleetForward thing. There was no way the company's board would ignore his recklessness after that."
She picked up her coffee, taking a sip. "And the lawsuits?"
I chuckled. "Ah, yes, the lawsuits. Toxic work environnts don't exactly spruce up a company's reputation, especially when the internet gets involved. The hashtag alone, #HarringtonsHellhole, might as well have been the final nail in the coffin."
Clarisse tilted her head, studying and I couldn't help but wonder what she was looking for. Was she dissecting the sa way she dissected her business opponents? "You seem to be enjoying this a lot." She finally said.
"Shouldn't I?" I replied, keeping my tone light. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To see Harrington brought to his knees?"
"I want results. Nothing more." She said, even as her eyes sparkled, showing that she did enjoy seeing Harrington's downfall.
I grinned and casually crossed my legs. "Well, you're getting results, Clarisse. Harrington & Co.'s share price is in freefall, the board wants soone's head on a pike, and Harrington's days as CEO are numbered. This is the foundation for our next move."
She nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "Here's what I still don't understand." She said. "You won't be getting the rewards like I will, so, what do you gain from all of this?"
"?" I placed a hand over my chest, feigning innocence. "I'm just here to help a beautiful and brilliant woman achieve her goals. Isn't that enough?"
Her lips twitched, and for a split second, I thought she might laugh. But she quickly composed herself, setting the cup down before looking at . "You're incorrigible, Nico."
"I prefer charming." I said, my grin widening. "But I'll take incorrigible if it's coming from you."
She shook her head slightly, but I surely didn't miss the way her eyes seed to linger on a mont longer than necessary. Progress, however small, was still progress.
I leaned forward again, serious this ti "The company's board is already beginning to panic. Once Harrington is out of the picture, they'll be desperate for stability. That's when we make our move."
"When everybody is looking the other way, we'd procide with our acquisition through the shell companies, and by the ti they realize what's happening, it'll be too late to stop it."
Clarisse nodded, her expression thoughtful. "And you're confident this will work?"
"Absolutely." I said. "We already have the foundation laid. All we need now is to wait for Harrington to implode."
"And if he doesn't?"
I gave her a wolfish grin. "Then we give him a little push."
For the first ti since I entered the room, she gave an actual smile. "I have to say, you're more ruthless than I expected."
"Well," I grinned, dusting an imaginary speck of dust from my shirt with a shit eating grin, "I'll take that as a complint."
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