Page 27 of The Assistant
For once, I’m lost for words. A part of me wants to continue my torment of her, making her squirm and miserable while we work together. It brings me such joy. I just can’t bring myself to do that with her at the moment.
“I know it’s the weekend, but that doesn’t mean you have the day off,” I say, grabbing my protein powder from the cabinet and putting together a shake before my run.
“So I don’t get a single day off?” Harper asks, dropping her spoon in the bowl.
“You’ll get off when I don’t need you,” I say, pulling out my phone and texting her over a list of tasks to complete. “I’ll be gone for a couple of hours, and I want all of these done by the time I’m back.”
Harper rolls her eyes and folds up her sketch pad before dropping the bowl in the sink and heading to her room to get dressed for the day.
I head out of the penthouse, knowing she’ll be busy for at least a few hours while I try to vent some of my frustrations on my run. It’s hot and humid, which makes every movement even more punishing. That’s exactly what I want right now.
I move as quickly as I can, feeling the burning in my muscles as I move back and forth rhythmically, trying to keep the same pace as I climb steep hills and wind through the streets.
All I can think about is this deal with Malik. My frustration has grown ever since we met him at the nightclub, and this anger is threatening to consume me entirely. If I can’t do something about it, I’m going to implode.
Why Malik of all people? There’s plenty of other people in the game with men just as capable as Malik’s. My dad knows who Malik is. He knows what selling Harper to him is going to be like.
Malik is cruel, and so is everyone he surrounds himself with. All of them are brutal and maniacal with their women. They lookat them as objects to own and trade between each other. I’ve heard plenty of rumors about their wives showing up bruised and battered, punished for the smallest mistakes they make.
How could Diana approve of him handing her over like this? I know she doesn’t care for Harper’s appearance, but she clearly has no love for her daughter at all.
I wish I could spare Harper from this in some way, but I have no idea how. It seems hopeless. I don’t even know why I care so much about it. Sure, Harper is beautiful, and I like fucking her. But I need to focus on my business. I can’t focus on something I have absolutely no control over. I can’t let it keep getting to me like this.
But even when I try to force this thought out of my mind, I imagine her being handed over to a monster like Malik, and I just can’t let it happen. That’s a reality I refuse to live in.
When I’ve had enough torturing myself, I go back to the penthouse and hop in the shower. I let the cold water wash over me, cooling down my virtually overheated limbs as the water massages my aching muscles.
The shower did nothing to help me calm down, which isn’t that surprising. Nothing’s been able to.
I towel off and get dressed, storming through the penthouse in search of Harper to make sure she’s done everything I asked of her. I wasn’t gone that long, so it seems nearly impossible that she got everything done. That might play perfectly into my hands.
I find her in her room, dressed in more professional work attire, sitting on her bed with a sketch pad in her lap. I cross my arms when I look at her, shaking my head.
“Are you kidding me? Did you just completely ignore everything I told you to do?” I ask, slamming the door as I make my way inside.
Harper looks up at me with annoyance in her eyes, standing up and dropping the sketch pad on the bed before walking out of the room. I follow her as she makes her way into my bedroom, opening my closet door and showing off my newly laundered clothes that she had delivered from the dry cleaner.
“Item number one,” she says dramatically as she points to the finished task. She immediately leads me to my home office, where I have a brand-new mouse and ergonomic keyboard both already set up in front of the desk. “Item number two.”
I follow her through the rest of the penthouse as I see that she’s completed every task I’ve given her. When she’s done with her tour, we stop in the living room, and she folds her arms in front of her with a smug smile.
“Maybe you should double-check before you barge into my room just to be an asshole,” Harper says, raising an eyebrow as if challenging me.
I narrow my eyes at her and take a step closer, pushing her toward the couch. She backs up with something almost playful in her eyes as she waits for me to continue whatever we’re about to start.
“I believe your contract mentions something about insubordination,” I say.
“I did what you asked me to do,” Harper retaliates, looking up at me with the annoyance growing on her face.
“Yeah, but doesn’t talking back count as insubordination?” I pause and wait for her to say something, as soon as she opens her mouth, I continue. “As your boss, I say it does. Because of that, I’m going to have to give you some disciplinary action. I can’t have my employees disobeying the rules, can I?”
She looks up at me with curiosity in her eyes, and I reach down to unzip my pants, freeing my rapidly inflating cock in front of her. Her eyes widen, and I see a wide range of questions crossing her mind. One thing I catch, something that intrigues me more, is apprehension. Here she is, once again squirming in front of me.
I might still be angry and frustrated, but this is what I need. This is the only thing that’s going to calm me down now.
“Open your mouth,” I demand, bringing my hand to her chin and tilting her face up toward my groin.
Her gaze moves from my cock to the smile growing on my lips with a sense of fear and dread mingling within them. She bites her lower lip and shakes her head, quickly turning her face away from me.
