Page 3 of Fated to Them

“You were in an elevator with Cyrus and Eli Colten. Damn, those men are fine but so scary,” Bella says, fanning herself with a piece of paper dramatically, her auburn hair blowing over her shoulder.

“Indeed, they are. I am fairly sure I am about to be fired or found in an alleyway murdered by them.”

“What? What did you do?” she squeaks out nervously, glancing at the now-closed foyer elevator they have disappeared into.

“First of all, I cut them off on the way here and gave them the finger when they honked their horn. Then I stopped their elevator, and they heard me on the phone to you.” I facepalm myself, internally cringing. “I told… I think Cyrus Troy was his name, that he had nice contact lenses.”

“Contact lenses?” Bella chuckles, her green eyes sparkling with humor.

“Yeah, he must be wearing contacts. No one has red eyes. I swear I saw them change, or am I losing it?”

“Red eyes?” Bella says, shaking her head, and I nod, knowing I am right about them being contacts. There can be no other explanation.

“So, what sort of flowers do you like?” Bella asks, making me look at her. Huh?

“For your grave, you better hope they don’t recognize you for cutting them off. They will destroy you,” she says.

At first, I thought she was joking, but the nervous look on her face scares the crap out of me.

“You wouldn’t be the first girl to go running from their wrath out of this building,” she adds, making my stomach drop. Great, just great.

The morning goes by quickly in a blur of answering phones and taking messages. Troy suddenly waltzes over to the desk with a huge triumphant grin. He leans on the desk, looking down at me before reaching down and taking the phone from my ear and hanging it up.

“You are so screwed,” he says in a sing-song voice.

“Why is that, Troy?” I ask, bored of his annoying little games. How does he even have a job here? I am yet to see him do anything that resembles work.

“Grab your stuff,” he says, not giving me any indication of what is going on.

I pick up the phone, only for him to take it from me again and hang it up.

“I am busy, Troy. Go annoy someone else,” I tell him, jotting down a message I’ve been listening to on the voicemail before he hangs the phone up on me.

“You don’t work here anymore,” he says with a big Cheshire-cat grin on his face, his beady eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What?” I ask worriedly. I can’t lose this job. I have my twin sister’s daughter to help raise. My mother would kill me if I got fired right now, especially with my sister doing a runner from the rehab clinic and dumping her kid on us.

“I said grab your stuff. You are moving upstairs,” he repeats.

“Upstairs?” I ask. Wouldn’t that be a promotion, then? I think to myself, but the sly grin on his face makes me nervous. I have a bad feeling that whatever is happening, I won’t like it.

“Oh, you think I am an asshole? Wait till you see who your new bosses are,” he drawls.

Oh no, I pushed the old fool too far. What has he gone and done now?

“Who?” I ask, and Bella stands up, also looking at him worriedly as she chews on the end of her pen, trying to figure out what is going on.

“Grab your stuff now, or I will fire that tight little ass of yours for good,” he says, looking around the corner of my desk and staring at my bubble butt. Eww, gross.

“And I will have your ass for sexual harassment,” I spit at him, grossed out as he licks his old dried-out lips. God, this old creeper infuriates me. Bella is glaring daggers at him.

I grab my bag and step around the desk, following him to the elevator. The doors close, and he stands silently, smiling. I want to wipe that smug grin off his face. He hits the twelfth-floor button, and my stomach drops, plummeting somewhere deep inside me.

Twelfth floor? My heart starts racing, and I feel like I am about to have a panic attack. He can’t be serious. Troy smiles brighter at my panic while I feel on the verge of throwing up.

“Yep, that’s right. You are now Cyrus and Eli’s new bitch,” Troy announces.

My stomach drops.