Now it was her turn to stare lecherously.
At that moment, she was having some very arousing thoughts.
Grace couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling. "Something's off with me. I can't believe this happened on my first day. When did I get so, well, perverted?" She sighed, confused by the sudden change. She'd never been into dating or romance, but now, out of the blue, she caught herself daydreaming about her boss’s dick, a guy she'd just met.
"Shit. Let's see how this plays out," she muttered, a mix of worry and curiosity in her tone. Unlike her colleagues, Grace had a secret weapon up her sleeve. There was something they didn't know about her. As the office hummed with its usual activity, Grace, with her hidden agenda, stood ready for whatever twists and turns this new job might throw her way. Little did her coworkers suspect that beneath Grace's calm exterior, a storm of conflicting feelings and a well-kept plan were brewing.
At the O.S. Publishing Headquarters The President's Office Noah Creed sat down with his cold coffee, ready to pounce on Bastad, daring to disturb his quiet time. Luckily, no one dared come in. He felt upset after dealing with his mother, who always left him feeling terrible—that vicious, hungry money serpent. Like forcing him to get married and produce offspring wasn’t enough. Now he is being forced to marry into the Keyes family of models; their last child, Jesse something, Keyes, who, by the way, is not even up to twenty, given the circumstances, will be old enough to be his daughter. He already has a lot on his plate to deal with; being transferred here without his consent was already a big problem for him. He wants no more painful trouble but his mother will not let him be. Engaging the young model was the only thing he could do to keep her at bay. "Oh, damn! My head hurts again." That familiar pain hit him. Since he was a kid, he had these terrible headaches, like someone ba
***If only it would rain. Not that there was a chance in hell it would, Noah admitted to himself as he scanned the three heavy clocks in his room. It's 6:00 a.m., the start of a new day. The sky has not even cleared yet he is this tired.Just when he gathered enough strength to stand up, the crazy yet, at 50, drop-dead gorgeous mother of his, Mrs. Vera Creed, yanked his heavy golden metal door open.With a pissed look on her face, she probably found out about the change he had made to his arranged marriage with the upcoming model Jesse Keyes. Pretending not to notice it, he said, "Mother, isn't it too early to look pissed; you will destroy your makeup?" he said, smirking as he went toward the bathroom. He could hear his mother groaning angrily."Don't piss me off, Noah," she said."Mom, you're already pissed; I don't need to do anything," Noah replied, turning to her."Why did you ask the Keyes to hold off the wedding date? Did you not hear me when I said…""Mother, I did, loud and c
**** "London at last," Grace muttered; they had barely made it to the airport on time, thanks to Diana, who overslept. "Alright, ladies, come this way," Secretary James said, addressing them. "Instead of the hotel, we will be using one of Mr. Creed’s villas; after all, it's going to be a three-week trip; so please behave yourselves and remember the rewards and promotions you will get after this business trip; it will depend on how well you perform. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes, sir," they all chorused. Before dark, they arrived at the villa, and oh, what a villa! It was huge, with a grand fountain in the middle of the field and a swimming pool at the side of it—one they were told not to enter, by the way. Each of them was given a room, and Grace found herself close to the master bedroom. "Okay, here we are; take your time, rest, and prepare what needs to be prepared by morning; the real work starts," Mr. James said and left. Diana turned to Grace and said, "Is it just me or did
***Grace stormed angrily into the large dining hall, slamming the box onto the table with a loud thud. "Who the hell does he think he is? He's just my boss and nothing else—the nerve of that bastard."Observing her fury, Diana cautiously approached, continuing to distribute the contents of the box to the others. "What happened? You look mad.""Oh, I am beyond mad and furious. I could kill someone right now." She spat."Ah, do you mind holding that thought? We only have like half an hour to get the dining hall ready, after which you can kill anyone you want. What do you say?" Diana said, grinning, likely suppressing her curiosity."Fine, but I'll take two heads." Grace replied with a faded smile."Sure, I can't wait to see who." They hurriedly continued with their work.Meanwhile,Inside the master bedroom, Noah was fuming. "How dare she speak to me like that? I am Noah Creed. Nobody talks to me like that; nobody." He muttered angrily, throwing the suit on the bed.Yet, he couldn't he
** Grace found a perfect place behind the main bedroom to take a breather. With a chair, a bottle of wine, and some delicious dessert; she sat down. What a magnificent, well-built balcony. Appreciating the view, Grace muttered, “It must be nice to be rich,” “You think so?” Noah emerged from the side of his room, which, by the way, was closer to the balcony. As he watched her jump, almost knocking down the table, he chuckled and held onto it. "Wow... calms down; I'm not going to eat you. Well, not like this." He said, almost to himself. Grace cursed with a low voice as she felt her heart racing. It hadn't even been a day since that stupid incident, and now he thought sneaking up on her was okay. Forgetting that this place was close to the main bedroom, she asked in a not-so-respectful way, "Why are you here, sir? This is my place of tranquility, boss or no boss; I'm not leaving." Noah stared at the lady with pink lips. "What do you mean? This is my room's balcony," he replied. "W
Grace placed the last file in the cabinet, returning to her seat with a heavy sigh. The past few months have taken a toll on both her mind and body.Despite returning from Paris, she'd hoped for a break since they had been working tirelessly. However, there was no such thing as soon as she came in; that round breast frog had a lot of work on the ground for her, so the workload remained overwhelming, leaving her and even Dian, her colleague, stressed out. Dian had been in tears the night before.Since the incident with Noah, Grace has done everything to avoid him. A week ago, though, he asked her to stay after closing.She expected a meaningful conversation with him, but it turned out he only wanted her body; seeing how he was in a hurry, he put it in her. Who would believe her first time was going to be in an office? It’s a good thing she came to her senses when she did, or only God knows what would have happened.Why her? Grace wondered. Yes, Noah was handsome, with a great figure, a
**** Grace scolded herself silently, "Great, Grace, now you've done it. How could you do something like that?" she muttered, hitting the toilet seat in frustration. Stepping out of the stall, panic washed over her. "Oh no, what if I lose my job? Mrs. Hail did say my rage could land me in trouble if I don’t control it. Ah, ah, ah," she screamed, pulling at her hair in despair. "You are going to pull out your hair if you don’t stop doing that," James said behind her. "I don’t want to believe we employed a madwoman," he added, shaking his head in disbelief. Grace gasped and quickly composed herself, forcing a smile. "Oh, ah, good morning, sir," she said, trying to sound normal. She glanced around. "This is the female's toilet," she added, her voice rising in defense. Sighing, James replied, "And you think I don’t know that? I saw the sigh. Thank you,” He spat out and sighed “Anyway, the President wants to see you." He reported. Did he just say president? Panic gripped her once more.
*** Susan was seething with anger, kicking anything and everything in her path as she stormed into the modeling department's head office. "That Bitch! How dare she talk to me like that? And in front of everyone?" she fumed, her voice sharp with frustration. Her steps were determined as she barged into Lora's office. Lora, the managing director of the modeling department at O.S. Publishing, looked up from her iPod, her expression a mix of annoyance and weariness. "Seriously, Susan, how many times do I have to tell you? Stop barging into my office like it's yours." Ignoring her, Susan took a seat, her eyes blazing with intensity. "That's why I told you, make me your assistant. Then I won't have to work with that asshole." Her voice crackled with irritation; he had the audacity to scold her, all because of that manipulative gold digger. Lora fixed Susan with a stern gaze. She knew that unless she gave her cousin the attention she craved, Susan wouldn't calm down. Putting down her iP