Page 77 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
I sipped my tea and opened my notes app to start another day in service to the man who ran my life like a multinational merger.
Laurent Dubois didn’t believe in downtime.
And as long as I worked for him, neither did I.
?? ?? ??
Oh shit.
The line for his favourite breakfast place was longer than usual. I glanced at the time and felt my pulse spike. Payday. End of the month. People were flush with cash and queuing for overpriced pastries like their lives depended on it.
How had I not factored that in?
I clenched the bag tighter as I checked my phone.
No new message from him. Yet.
But Evelyn had already broken the silence.
Evelyn:Where are you? His majesty has arrived!
I was fucked.
If his coffee got too cold, he’d send me right back out. No discussion. No mercy. Just that flat, irritated stare that made my blood run cold.
I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. In and out. In and out.
The smell of roasted beans and sugar clung to the air like a cruel taunt.
The line moved.
My eyes snapped open.
I might make it.
?? ?? ??
I discreetly checked my reflection in the lift as it carried me higher into the sky. You’d think only angels lived up here, but devils walked among us.
Okay, maybe he wasn’t that bad. But I was pretty sure the man hated me. I’d given up weeks ago trying to figure out why. Now, I simply accepted the truth: he was never going to be pleasant or courteous.
I smoothed a few stray hairs—not for vanity, but because I needed to look immaculate in his office. Same care I’d taken when I worked reception. I’d perfected the art of the welcoming smile.
Mr Dubois couldn’t run me down or run me off.
My nightmares were scarier than him.
People made a lot of assumptions about me, but not many knew I’d crawled out of the foster care system.
According to the statistics, I should’ve been an unemployed, homeless criminal by the age of twenty-four.
I was four years past that.
Someone like Laurent Dubois?
He’d never make me quit.
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