Page 4 of Fated to Them

You hardly saw them, but I heard the whispers. No one wanted to work for them; they were a nightmare apparently, explosively angry, and just overall strange. Today was the first time I had ever come across them here; their presence was rare at the building. Was this punishment for cutting them off? Did they recognize me?

Their last secretary left crying hysterically. Bella told me she had apparently ended up in a psych ward muttering about demons and monsters, and she hadn’t returned since.

The doors open, and Troy shoves me out, nearly making me stumble. I turn, trying to get back in the elevator, the doors closing in my face.

“Adeline Paisley?” I hear a deep husky voice behind me.

My body tenses, fear running through me, and I gulp, goosebumps rising on my flesh. Troy’s really fucked me over this time.

I hesitantly turn around to find Cyrus directly behind me with the other man, Eli, who is just as equally imposing. I step back, both their eyes on me, and I suddenly feel tiny, like a mouse being watched by a lion, and I am about to become their new toy to torture. I actually would have preferred it if they fired me.

“We met in the elevator,” he says, raising an eyebrow at me. I feel the blood rush to my face at the memory. Wait, has he removed his contacts? His eyes are no longer red but a caramel, almost amber color.

“About that, I am so sorry. I am just going to go,” I tell them, about to hit the button on the elevator and run for my life.

“Did I say you could leave?” Eli says, making me jump before I turn around.

He is definitely more terrifying. His impenetrable gaze is watching me, and I feel the blood leave my face.

“You belong to us now,” he says.

Belong to them? What a weird choice of wording, I think to myself.

“You mean, I work here now?” I ask.

“Yes, you belong to us now,” he says simply, and I watch his eyes flicker.

I shake my head, a shiver running up my spine. Stress, it has to be. The only thing I can think of. Or the lighting.

I stand there awkwardly, rubbing my sweaty hands on my black slacks, my feet killing me as they continue to stare. Cyrus steps to the side, pointing at the desk. Eli is now sitting on the end. How did he move so fast? My feet feel like they are glued to the floor and weigh a ton as I stand frozen.

“I’m sure someone else would be better suited to work for you. I will go find them,” I offer, about to make a run for it.

Cyrus folds his arms over his chest. “No, we have already decided. We need a personal assistant, and you are it.”

I shake my head when he suddenly grabs my arm, pulling me toward the desk. He pulls the chair out, dumping me in it.

“Oh, and don’t be late,” he says over his shoulder as he walks off down the corridor to his office.

Eli turns around, perched on the end of the desk, and faces me. “Now, for the rules.”

“Rules?” I ask, confused.

He stares at me like I am mentally challenged, and I lean back as he leans closer. His eyes darken under the light. He sniffs the air slightly, and I feel my heart rate pick up at his closeness, feel his breath fan my lips. He is that close as he towers over me even while sitting. He smells good, manly like sandalwood and pine needles, and I find myself involuntarily leaning in.

“Yes, rules. You know what they are?”

I nod, snapping out of my strange trance, and he leans back with a smirk on his lips like he knows how much his being this close affects me.

“Always knock before entering our offices, no personal phone calls, no drama, and no snooping. You will also have to sign a non-disclosure agreement and fill out an employee questionnaire,” he says in a rush, my mind reeling at his words.

“A non-disclosure agreement?”

“Are you hard of hearing? Do I need to repeat everything again?” he asks.

I shake my head, pressing my lips in a line.

“Good. I will bring the paperwork out. Also, we will need your contact details and banking information.”