CHAPTER 100: – YOUR MOOD –

He folded his arms with a cocked brow.

"Answer me."

"I’m not interested, sir. And you’re my boss."

"So you can’t date your boss, is that what you’re saying?"

She nodded. "I just want to work, sir. Please stop."

"What? Is it money that you want? I’m rich and I can give you anything? All you have to do is say yes to me. Why can’t you?"

"I already told you sir, I’m not interested in you. Please, stop it. I just want to work, nothing more."

"Oh? Do you have a boyfriend?"

She quickly nodded at him. If lying she had one would get her out of this situation, then so be it.

Fernando unfolded his arms and began to approach her.

She took a step back. He moved closer. She stepped back again, hitting her back against the door.

"You lie very horribly. Why? Did you think lying about having a boyfriend would make me lose interest?"

He roughly snatched her chin causing her to yelp.

"Sasha, do you realize that this job you love so much, I can take it away from you in the blink of an eye, huh?"

"Sir, please stop." She tried to pull away from him. But he had her crowded against the door, hands plastered on either side of her head. "Please..."

"What are you begging me for? I didn’t say I was going to hurt you, did I?" Fernando sized her up. "I only want to understand why you’re rejecting me."

"I’m just not interested sir..."

"Why? You don’t think I’m handsome enough?"

"T-that’s not what I’m saying." She shook her head, her eyes having watered up now. Her voice was shaking, lips trembling. "P-please, let me go, sir."

Fernando let out a deep breath. "Now, why are you crying? A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be crying." He lifted his hand, swiping his thumb over the spot under her eyes. "Not that you look bad crying. But I like you better when you smile."

His palm cupped her cheek. "I want us to...understand each other, Sasha," he mummured, voice thick with arrogance.

"Please, let me go." Her pulse pounded, fear washing all over her. "Sir, I have work to—"

His thumb brushed against her lips, and she stiffened.

"Work can wait, Sasha. Besides, offending me is going to cost you this work, you know that right?" His free hand fell to her hip, firm and suggestive.

Sasha’s throat felt tight. She was afraid, but even still, she clutched the bodycam, just to make sure it was recording everything happening. This was the only thing that was going to save her, and that was if Viviana Di-grassi keeps her word.

"No, please...l-let go. Sir..." she began, but the world tangled, because regardless of everything, she was frightened.

Everyone knew the kind of man Fernando was.

She wasn’t the first.

"I’m not going to hurt you," Fernando coaxed, his body pressing closer. "We both know what you can gain from a man like you. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your place? To be favored by me?"

Sasha’s chest ached from holding her breath. She could feel the camera pressing against her sternum, and the heat of his hand all over her, and the stink of his cologne pushed panic over the edge.

She snapped, unable to take it anymore.

Her knee drove upward, hard and fast.

The sound that resounded right after from Fernando was sharp, almost a cry as he doubled over, one hand clutching his groin and the other trying to reach for the wall.

"Fuck! You fucking bitch!"

Sasha’s trembling fingers found the door handle. She yanked it open, nearly stumbling as she burst out into the hall.

"Get back here!" Fernando yelled at her.

She didn’t stop. She kept running, using the stairs to get out of the building. She flagged down a taxi and left without looking back.

Amidst the ride, she dialed the number she’d been given, bawling her eyes out.

[Hello?] the voice belonged to Viviana.

Sasha sobbed. "I-I did it, ma’am. I did it."

[Sasha]

"I got it. T-the evidence. You said you’ll help me, right. You’ll bring him down, you promised that."

[I did. And I’m not going back on my word]

"Then please, help me. I-If we can do something, the other workers there...someone of them, he’s harassed them too. But they can’t say a word because he’s a Stolov."

[Breathe Sasha. You’ve done a good job. You were brave, so now you just have to leave it to me. I’ll handle the rest. I promise you, Fernando will never get away with it. Who cares if he’s a Stolov?]

Sasha nodded rapidly, wiping at her eyes as she sniffled tearfully.

"I’ll meet you soon?"

[Yes. Let me know when you’re ready]

Nikolas circled the spar room with his brother Lucian who was watching him tightly.

"Are you going to make a move or what?" Lucian questioned.

"Hm, eager aren’t you?" Nikolas snorted at him. "Why? Because we’ve had ten wins, 4 loses? You hate that you’re going to lose to me?"

"Will you shut up and swing your sword?" Lucian glared.

Nikolas swung his sword lazily, the steel clanging against his with a hollow, practised sound. "You’re moving like a snail, Nikolas," he taunted, smirking.

Niklas rolled his eyes. "And you’re getting sloppy. Maybe you need a nap instead of a sword play."

"A nap?" Luciana scoffed, berating, "I’m a father. There is no nap for me."

"I can see that." Nikolas grinned, spinning his sword with one hand. "Still, try just a tad bit harder. You’re making this boring."

"Oh, shut up! If we’re going to talk, let’s talk about your mood these days." Lucian flipped him off.

"And what about my mood?" Nikolas shot back.

"You’re trying to be so tough these days, but you’re miserable," Lucian said, lunging forward. Nikolas parried easily. He leaned on his sword for a moment and smirked at him. "I never thought you would ever cry for anyone, much less for a human."