PRINCE'S POV
I kept staring at her as she dressed my wound. Her natural braids, woven simply, only added to her allure. At first, I thought she was a plain woman, someone who preferred unfashionable, simple hairstyles. But now, I find it incredibly sexy.
I shifted slightly in my seat, trying to control the growing heat beneath my belt. The thought crossed my mind-what if I just took her here and now? Kissed her, dominated her, and made her mine. No woman has ever resisted me before, and I doubted she would be the exception.
My eyes drifted to her cleavage, and though I tried not to stare, I couldn't stop myself from glancing back.
Then reality snapped me out of it. What was I thinking? I couldn't believe I'd stooped so low. I had intentionally hurt myself just to have her dress my wound. Who the hell does that?
A wave of discomfort and nervousness hit me. I was getting too attached to her-this woman who was slowly driving me insane. I had to stop this madness before it consumed me.
She leaned forward to blow air on my hand.
"Hey, it's not hot. You don't need to pour your spit all over me. I'm fine. Let go," I said sharply.
She looked up at me, confused.
"Sir, let me help-"
"I said I'm fine. I can handle it," I interrupted, my voice firm.
"But you just asked me to help," she snapped, losing her composure.
"And now I don't want you to. Stop arguing and get back to work."
She hesitated but then quietly took the first aid kit back to the bathroom. As she turned to leave, I found myself speaking again.
"How's your arm?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop myself.
She turned back, her expression one of surprise. "It's getting better," she replied curtly, then walked out without so much as a thank-you.
I let out a sigh. That's what I get for being so stupid-asking her that question. Now she'll think I actually care.
DANIEL'S POV
As soon as she walked out of the office, I wanted to ask her what the boss had said, but I decided to hold back. I didn't want to draw more attention to her or get her into trouble.
She glanced at me and winked-a signal that it wasn't anything serious. I sighed in relief, smiling to myself at our little secret language.
This wink dey sweet my body, I teased in my head.
My girlfriend finally called after two weeks of holding a grudge over our fight. I wanted to play the hard guy, so I ignored her call. A text followed:
"It's over."
I smirked and put my phone back on the table. She says this all the time-yesterday, the day before. I don't take her threats seriously anymore.
An hour later, the boss stepped out of his office, wearing just a shirt and tie. Without his suit, he looked almost unrecognizable-except for his height. He walked straight to the conference room.
We didn't need instructions to know he wanted us all there. Time for another talk.
I finished my work and walked past Val's desk, where she was hurriedly organizing her things for the meeting.
I stopped and helped her.
"Thanks, Dan," she said, looking up and offering me a soft smile.
"You're welcome. Hurry up, or we'll be the last ones to enter," I teased.
Unfortunately, we were the last to enter. The room was cold-both from the air conditioning and the boss's icy stare.
Val and I took the two empty seats at the back, as usual. We liked sitting together, whispering and joking when we could.
I pulled out her chair, and she sat beside me. We both kept our eyes down, knowing the boss was probably glaring at us for delaying the meeting.
"Miss Jennifer, where is the edited work? I need to see it," the boss began.
Jennifer stood up and looked at me. "Sir, the editor wasn't around when I went to get it. I wanted Daniel to do it, but he refused."
"Excuse me, sir," I interjected, annoyed. "Miss Jennifer, the editor is back now. That's no excuse."
The boss's eyes darkened. "You were given a simple task, and you couldn't even handle it. I'm fed up with you," he snapped, directing his anger at Jennifer.
I couldn't help but enjoy her getting scolded. But then the boss's cold gaze shifted to me, making my stomach churn. What did I do this time?
I leaned toward Val. "The boss is acting weird," I whispered.
"I noticed too," she replied softly, though her body language said otherwise. She knew something but wasn't telling me.
"What did he say to you in the office?" I pressed.
"I'll tell you later. Stop asking-he's looking this way," she said, tapping my shoulder.
I nodded, and we both straightened up, pretending nothing was going on.
"Pete, can I see your design?" the boss called out.
Pete handed him a sheet of paper. The boss frowned, then tossed it onto the table.
"What is this? A maternity design? Is the model pregnant?"
The room went silent, everyone holding back laughter.
Pete shook his head. "No, sir."
"Then why is her stomach so big?" the boss demanded.
Pete hesitated, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, he muttered, "Sir, maybe it's overfeeding. If she were alive, we could ask her."
Val burst into laughter, and I couldn't help but join her. Soon, others followed.
I quickly covered Val's mouth with my hand. "Stop laughing. The boss is looking at us," I whispered.
We apologized in unison.
"You all think this is funny?" the boss barked. "His idiotic design is a joke to you? Why would you draw a model like a middle schooler and then joke about it? Is foolishness your heritage?"
The room fell silent again, as quiet as a graveyard.
I glanced at Val, who was still stifling a laugh. I pinched her leg, and she pinched me back. We exchanged amused smiles, trying to stay serious.
"Ms. Valerie," the boss's voice broke the moment.
We froze, looking up like we'd seen a ghost. Val stood nervously.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Change your seat," he ordered.