AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It intrigued me how much I hated his guts when I was a male, especially when he kissed me as if I wanted those lips on mine. Onyx wasn't even into men, but I apparently didn't count since I made him rock hard every time he stuck around until the morning.
Heading back into my room, I began to change as I stared into the mirror to make sure my attire was crisp for the long day ahead.
Mondays meant long meetings and cleaning up the potential fuck ups that occurred during the weekend, when people apparently didn't think straight and would do anything to make us work harder at the start of the week.
You'd think hiring a weekend team would cut the amount of work that occurs and give us some slack, but nope. If things didn't improve, I'd have to create the proposal of either defunding them or cutting them off entirely.
One of the many things on my list for the morning.
Afternoons were always spent on shifter shit. I needed all my energy to concentrate accurately on topics like that because that entered mafia territory and I wasn't going to fuck shit up for Papa Dearest.
Why do I even do shit involving the shifter world again?
Back in my younger years, I thought it would aid in my conquest of being accepted, give me a respectable position amongst our kind, and allow me to feel included.
A bunch of foolish thinking.
Instead, I did the job far too well because anyone else who'd attempted to replace me got killed in twenty-four hours or less. It was just one of those positions that was forced upon my shoulders due to my perfectionist qualities.
Why did I have to take that from him?
Flipping the collar of my white dress shirt, I reached for my pink tie in the open drawer of colorful ties and began to knot it accordingly until the tie was securely snug and my look was basically complete.
Today being Monday, a load of rejuvenated paparazzi were waiting for my arrival. Seeing as publicity was always a bonus in the land of luxury, I got sent loads of suits and even dresses from the few brands that knew of my predicament but covered it up with my desire to cross-dress for fun.
A lot of people assumed I was either gay or enjoyed the life of cross-dressing, but I always ignored those questions when anyone tried to get the answers to them.
My private life is mine alone so mind your own business or fuck yourself.
Today's suit was Louis Vuitton, the white fabric embroidered with the LV logo. The white dress shoes with pink logo print matched my tie, which was designed with white logo print.
One of the privileges of being rich was getting free shit, though they probably made triple the profit the moment I was caught wearing the latest trends, resulting in them being sold out in minutes of the reveal.
Making sure every strand of my pink hair was styled perfectly to my taste, I looked at my reflection with a cocky confidence that actually made me chuckle.
"I'm hot as hell."
"Saying your positive affirmations for the morning?" Aurelia asked as she walked into the room. "Breakfast is ready."
She was holding one of my pills and a glass of water. I glanced over at the time, realizing I should take the dose sooner rather than later. These pills were powerful, but the later I took them, the drowsier I'd become.
Which was exactly why I drank two cups of coffee to keep me going.
I'd have to take the other cup of coffee when I arrived at work and set up for the morning meeting, but it was good that Aurelia reminded me.
"Thanks." I walked over to accept her offering before popping the pill in my mouth and washing it down with the entire glass of water.
"How have you been feeling as of late?" she asked with seriousness as she began to walk back to the kitchen. I casually followed her before we got situated at the island where pancakes, bacon, eggs, and a homemade yogurt fruit cup with granola waited for me.
A glass of orange juice sat on my side while a cup of coffee was on Aurelia's side.
"I knew you'd have your other cup at work or I would have made you another mug," she added before sitting down and diving right in.
"No worries," I assured her as I began to cut my pancakes in an elegant way.
Habits die hard when you're whipped into the right form of etiquette.
"Thanks for the meal," I declared before taking a bite of the flavorful fluffy pancakes that practically melted in my mouth. "Why can't I cook like this?"
