(Karsten)
Numbness wove itself within , followed by a void of emptiness after I let her go. The twinge of ache in my heart had blossod into a gut-wrenching pain, the one I had to live with.
I asked Caysir to check on her and deliver her food, but she refused to accept anything from him, knowing I must have been sending them.
Speaking to Chan and Miranda, I discussed her transfer to the Sales Departnt. They knew better than to ask why, and it was arranged. Knowing Chan, he would keep her comfortable, and she wouldn’t be lonely amidst them.
"Clear out all of Arata’s stuff and give the box to Caysir. He will take it ho to her," I instructed before Chan and Miranda left, giving serious nods.
I also had a thorough conversation with Ranold, since he was in charge of getting a fake girlfriend and was the one who found Arata.
"How the fuck did you not know she was engaged? Didn’t you run a background check?" I almost shouted at him and he appeared utterly serious for the rarest ti.
"I did and never thought it would be a problem, knowing you wanted a fake relationship. Not that you were going to sleep with her." He rolled his eyes and kept speaking. "Besides, girls always fall for you and break up with whatever sad soul they are dating or are engaged to. So I didn’t delve into it too much."
From all the tis I imagined punching Ranold, this had to be the most tempting one. My eyes blazed with rage, I felt.
"She knows Ranold, she knows we singled her out, and now believes I was the one who made her fiancé break up with her. I don’t even know the fucker." I had never sought out Arata’s ex-fiancé, even when she told he had broken her heart. I didn’t trust myself to not hurt that doofus badly, so I had exercised restraint. Not knowing him was a bliss.
Ranold’s cheeks puffed as he slowly let air out and slumped on my sofa. His hand held his head, and he sincerely apologised.
"Sorry, man. You know , I never plan so far ahead, and didn’t know it would cause such a problem. Do you want to talk to her and explain?"
"No, I will handle her. Let do this my way." I couldn’t let Ranold know about the stalker situation. As much as I trusted my best friend, I had promised Arata I wouldn’t reveal this secret to anyone.
After Ranold had left, Caysir called .
"Sir, I have brought Miss Arata, but she didn’t accept breakfast from ."
That was expected, and I feared she would stop eating.
"Leave that to , rember to take her back to my villa once she finishes here," I instructed before cutting the call. Getting up, I faced the window and stared at the snow-covered buildings. Most of it had lted, but so still lingered.
Miranda sought permission to enter as I stood by the window. Turning my head, I saw that she walked inside with another girl. I had asked her to arrange for another secretary, now that Arata had vacated that position.
I observed the confident-looking girl. Her strawberry blonde hair was half tied in an elegant hairdo, and her blouse seed a bit too tight, then needed. But she smiled professionally and stood with confidence.
"Sir! This is Nasia Hughes. She is here for the interview for the secretary position," Miranda introduced with her lips stretched tight. I could sense her displeasure at this move.
"Thank you, Miranda. I will take it from here." She shot a grim look at the new girl and left without another word.
Once the door had closed, I faced the new girl. She stood with her file clutched in her hand, flashing an annoying smile.
"Good morning, Mr Karsten, it’s such an honour..." she began cheerfully, and I instantly disliked her fake tone.
"Your résumé," I held out my hand and demanded coldly, not answering her greeting. So of that smile faded, but she quickly gained back her composure.
"Of course, Mr Karsten."
Quickly, she handed the file.
"It will be, Mr CEO, in case you’re hired. Not, sir and not Mr Karsten." Sohow, I didn’t want her to take my na. Her body slightly tensed, but she offered a quick nod.
I opened her file and observed her résumé. She had experience with a few other CEOS, her qualifications were impressive too. Yet I hated her presence, standing there where I had gotten used to seeing Arata. No one would be able to fill that gap and place.
Closing the file, I placed it on my desk and slid it back towards her.
"Get a black coffee and a fresh mango. It should have a shade of red along with yellow in it. You have half an hour." Calmly, I settled into my chair and faced her with my fist resting under my chin. I watched her fidget uncomfortably, a few colours passed by her worried face.
It was the winter season, there were no mangoes available in Marica. And the kind I said were only native to my lands.
"...Umm, what kind of coff..."
I didn’t let her finish. "Figure it out, Miss Hughes. You are dismissed," I said coldly, without any emotions reflecting in my voice.
The Alien from Neptune, as Arata loved calling . I was certainly turning into that.
Nasia walked away with slightly less confidence than she had walked inside and I didn’t care. My emotions had been locked up, and that smile, which had begun to surface rarely—was completely gone.
Restless, my heart turned too restless once I was left alone. I had told Chan to give the Sales Data, so I could use that as an excuse to go see her. To just check how she was doing in the new environnt.
Before I knew it, my feet were carrying towards the Sales Departnt. I entered through the door, and Chan instantly spotted , rushing to my side.
"How is she doing?" I asked without reluctance.
"She is a professional and has already started working on the data."
I craned my neck, but the dividers obscured my view of her.
"Where is she?" I asked quietly, and Chan pointed towards one of the cubicles. Everyone stood up, seeing approach.
My hungry eyes found her, sitting calmly in her seat, and typing on the keyboard. Emotions waged a war inside , but I had to bury each and every one of them.
My arms pained from the effort of keeping them to my side and not just running and grabbing her. To whisk her away and apologise for being a cunt.
Her eyes found even before I could speak. She had sensed coming. Her soft features hardened seeing , but her beauty couldn’t be eclipsed even when she glanced at with murder in her eyes.
She had chosen to wear black and red that day.
Hardening my tone, I spoke, putting authority in my tone.
"I need sales data on my desk by the end of the day."
And then she straightened her head at and gave the most fake smile I had ever seen her give.
It was a clear ssage to say, ’Fuck you, Karsten Chevalier, you can’t break .’
"Of course...Sir," she answered in a hollow and artificial tone.
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