Page 23 of Alpha’s Possession

"6:30 a.m.. The package I'm waiting for has to be signed for. If I have to collect it from the post office—you’re fired!” Thane snaps and hangs up on me.

I stare at the phone screen in disbelief until the numbers finally make sense and dread fills my gut. Fuck! I have barely ten minutes until Thane’s stupid mail carrier arrives.

I guess it’s a good thing I chose this crappy motel because the office building is only a street away. I race around the room, grab my clothes, and dismiss the ironing board I set up. If Thane wants me in at such an ungodly hour, he has to take what he gets.

I hurry to rip my clothes on, the fabric sticking to my wet skin, and I barely manage one clasp on my bra before I snatch my de-scenter and suppressants.

Hurriedly, I tip the bottle of pills to my lips and down three tablets right before spraying the de-scenter over every inch of me. I toss the can in my bag, throw the bag over my shoulder, snatch the keys, and pick up my heels by the door.

I have no time to fiddle with the damn heels, so I rush out the door and quickly lock it behind me. It’s not like I have any valuables anyone could steal, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I check the knob, ensure the door is locked correctly, and race for the stairs. Halfway down the steps, I jump the rest to be faster.

“Not today, you fucker. You won’t be firing me today!” I hiss under my breath as I run like someone set my ass on fire, and honestly, I’m pretty sure Thane would gladly do that if I’m late. Well, that and fire me, whichever that heartless asshole prefers.

I’m sure he would get the word ‘fired’ branded on my ass just to prove his stupid point. That’s how petty the scary motherfucker appears.

By the time I finally reach the huge skyrise building and nearly vomit up my lungs—just in case anyone is wondering—my hair is dry, and I’m sure it looks as messy as a bird’s nest.

The postal delivery officer stands next to his car, about to get in, and I push myself harder, almost tackling the poor elderly man before he can close the back of his van.

“Keller documents!” I pant out, clutching my sides, wondering if he even understood the gibberish words I just blurted out. I must look like a madwoman to him.

“Miss? Are you okay? Do you need help? Can I call someone for you? An ambulance, or maybe the police?” the kind man offers as I clutch his arm, still struggling to regulate my breathing back to somewhat normal.

“My boss, Mr. Keller, he’s expecting a package, and I’m here to sign it for him,” I gasp out, grabbing my sides with more force as I feel a sharp stitch in one of them. Body, don’t you fucking dare to fail me now!

Chapter Seventeen

~Harlow~

“Zara Maverick?” the mailman asks, looking a little shocked. Okay, who am I kidding? The poor man looks so shocked he could jump out of his own skin.

I nod and smile at him as politely as I can, while the only thought in my mind is to not close my eyes and faint right in front of him. I will drop dead before I let Thane humiliate me like this or fire me for a stupid joke he’s pulling.

I mean, who, in their right mind, sends their employee for an important package ten minutes before the supposed arrival of the mailman? That prick is more slippery than a sea cucumber.

I try to focus on deep breaths as I dig through my bag and present the mailman with my work ID. The old man sighs but still digs through the back of his van and hands me a huge envelope of what I suppose has to be some important documents.

I sign for the package, thank the man, and walk to the stairs in front of the building. Once I reach them, I collapse on the steps. My breathing is as heavy and rapid as it was when I caught the mailman. And yet, even now, I don’t care that I might look homeless—I just ran down an entire street, all the way here in panic. They could give me a damn break.

Once I’m sure I can stand up without fainting or throwing up, I move toward the doors I saw the security staff unlock a couple of minutes ago.

As I enter the building, I show the security guard my employee ID and he lets me through. I ignore the odd look he gives me and hurry toward the elevators.

When I get to my floor, I walk around, turning on all the lights. Then, I turn toward my desk and power up my computer. Setting the envelope of documents on the edge of my desk, I dig through my bag for a hairbrush and the small set of makeup I carry around for emergencies. Such as this.

Hastily, I do a rush job of my makeup in the bathroom. Taming my wild hair, I pull it into a bun on top of my head. Satisfied with my appearance, I move to the kitchenette where I get five mugs ready and prepare them for the bosses' morning coffee, while making one for myself too. I dump two teaspoons of instant coffee in my mug and grin—this much I’ve earned after the awful morning I had. Fuck, I hate running more than I hate morning-people.

I swear, once the coffee is ready and I can gulp down a few mouthfuls of the warm juice of gods, I can feel the caffeinated beverage warm my soul. There’s nothing better than the first coffee of the day.

I take my cup back to my desk and focus on checking all the work emails. I send the important ones to their tablets and desktops. Once I’m done with emails, I check their meeting schedules and equip the conference room down the hall.

As I walk back to the kitchenette, I’m about to make their coffees when a childish, evil thought creeps into my mind.

Thane wants to speak to me like shit and treat me as such. Fine, freaking fine by me! I dump his coffee in the trash and take his mug to the toilet, giving it a rise inside the toilet bowl. Snickering to myself, I flip off the cameras in the hallway. God, I hope they don’t check those.

Then I walk back to the kitchenette and use a paper towel to dry his mug before I wash my hands in the sink.

Retrieving his mug, I set about to make the coffee when I gasp. Fuck! It’s the wrong mug! The golden lettering I mistook for T is actually an L.