23

EMILY'S POV.

Nothing… Nothing…

The way he had casually said it made me feel like a fool. The fool for loving him, for being with him. All those moments had been fake.

How could a person act so well? How could he have fooled me so well that I didn't even know about it?

It was unfair.

It felt like my heart was being pricked horribly by a needle—like it was being cut mercilessly by a surgeon's scalpel.

I had never hated John more at that moment. To think that I had almost married a man like that was sickening.

He and his family were alike. Rude, arrogant—only doing the things they wanted, without caring if it was wrong or right, or if they were hurting others. But then, what did I expect? Did I expect him to say it meant something to him?

Or that those times were his best times? What exactly had I been expecting? Why did I even ask that question?

Thinking about it, it was a little weird…

Like… Wow… the John I had known all along was fake. This was the real one, and for years, I hadn't even in the very least managed to catch a glimpse of the real one.

I nodded slowly, and dropped the papers I had picked on the table, arranging them properly.

"If you'll excuse me please." I said, feeling miserable, and turned to leave.

"Get back here. Where do you think you're going?" He asked, turning around, making a noise with his chair, and I stopped in my tracks, trying to stop my fingers from bunching into fists. I would rather not cry in front of him. No, I didn't want him to know he had hurt me, and see how much he had hurt me.

"Just give me a moment." I managed to say, without turning to him.

"If you leave, prepare to be a full-time maid. Now get back here, finish with this, and explain why there's a stain on this paper." He said, menacingly, and it took me all I had to turn and return to my seat.

My feet felt as heavy as lead, not wanting to move—like bricks cemented into the ground.

I sat, and took the papers, trying to get back to work.

"I accidentally smeared the paper with beef from my hamburger. It wasn't intentional." I said flatly, and he scoffed.

"Is that how you apologize to your boss? Just like that? You must think we're still engaged. Well, we're not, and it's good as you're regretting it. Now, other women will have what they never would have had if you didn't make the worst decision of your life." He spat, and I tried hard to keep my scoff.

That was the root of everything. I had broken off the engagement, and he had felt embarrassed, and humiliated.

"Ladies, pack up the food here, and come in. I need to make an announcement." He said, and the maids came in, looking down, so I wouldn't feel more embarrassed because of them.

"From now on. You're not to serve her. She's not the woman in this house. She's a damn secretary. If she needs anything, she does it herself. I didn't hire any of you to serve her. Now, take this rubbish to the kitchen." He said, and a maid came to take my unfinished hamburger away from the table.

"Now you," He said, turning to me, "get on your knees, and apologize for smearing the paper because you were so stupid as to eat while working." He said, and I couldn't even look at him.

My fingers trembled with mixed emotions. Anger, embarrassment, desire to cry, and frustration.

Was I to kneel in front of the maids?

"Or was it because you saw me kissing someone else? You were jealous, and smeared the paper?" He asked, taking a bunch of the papers in his hand. "Get on your knees, Emily." He ordered, emphasizing every word.

Don't think too much of it. It'll be fine. You'll get out of this just fine, I told myself.

The darkest time of night is when dawn's about to break, I continued, trying to fill myself with positivity.

I got up, and went down on my knees.

"I apologize for smearing beef on the paper. It was unprofessional of me." I said, calmly, with my hands gently squeezing my knees.

He seemed irritated. Maybe because he expected kneeling and apologizing to be so hard for me to do that he'd be so delighted to watch.

I stayed on my knees for minutes in front of the maids, until he tapped the table hard.

"Get back to work, sloth. Being slow is going to put you in trouble." He snapped, folding his arms, and crossing his legs.

With calmness, and composure, I got up, wiped my knees, and sat on my chair, adjusting it closer to the table.

I began to work, sorting the documents into folders. John kept on staring at me, and my cheeks heated red.

No, no, no, no! Not here! I tried so hard to keep the hot tears in.

The single strand that held back the storm from crashing in my eyes was my pride. I knew John was watching for reactions, so I kept my look even, and unaffected. I bet it made him so confused, and annoyed.

I continued to sort the documents expertly, and after about an hour of sorting, when I was almost done, John got to his feet.

"You're accompanying me to work tomorrow." He informed me, sticking his hands into his pockets. "No one is to know we're no longer engaged. If anyone asks, you simply tell them you're learning about business directly from me." He added, and left, leaving me feeling even worse.

At least, in the mansion, I could easily avoid him while doing my duties, and even though he forced his presence on me like he had done, by stubbornly refusing to leave or let me leave; it would be just a few hours, but going to the company with him would be like all day.

When I was done with all the work, I submitted it in his room, and luckily, he was asleep, so I didn't have to have any unnecessary conversation with him.

After leaving his room, I went to mine, and plopped down on my bed, wrenching my buttons apart.

I was finally alone, but it seemed like my well of tears had been dried up. What was the use of crying? What would crying change? It would only make me feel pathetic.

So, no. No tears because I didn't need them.

I was stronger than John could ever think I was, and his lame tactics couldn't get to me.

After three years, I was going to get a full bloody revenge on him. Alpha or not, he was going to regret messing with me. After all, hell hath no fury than a woman scorned.

With my dressing mirror showing my reflection on the bed, I decided to give smiling another shot. I could do it.

I gave a bright smile, and laughed. It was good to smile. Yes, I was fine… I was going to be fine. Everything was going to be alright.

The next day, I dressed in a pleated, black, V-neck, blazer dress, with golden buttons.

And in it, I wore a white camisole to prevent my cleavages from being too revealing. I had to look smart, and beautiful at the same time.

I let my hair down, and placed a pin on the left side of my hair.

Looking good made a lady feel good.

"Lipstick? No lipstick? Lipstick? Gosh, just go without it, Emily." I said to myself, and left my room with my black heels clacking prettily on the floor.

I held my purse, and my dignity, as I met John in the living room, sipping tea in a black waistcoat, and white shirt.

He looked at me like he was searching my face for any sign of sadness, but instead, I bowed.

"Good morning, Mr. Granger." I greeted, without a smile, nor a frown, and I could see a displeased look cross his face.

He looked at my outfit, and rolled his eyes.

"You're intending to seduce my workers with that?" He asked, and I burned to spit out, 'It's my life! Not yours. We're no longer engaged, remember?'

Unfortunately, my new policy for my three years with him was to keep it all in.

It wasn't like the gown was too short, or too exposing, I guess I just looked too good in it.

Just then, the door opened, and Derel and Derella walked in through the door connecting the living room to the foyer.

"John, take us to school, will you?" Derella asked, walking towards us in black heeled boots, and a uniformed skirt that was definitely tailored. It was way too short. Her shirt was white, too tight, and two buttons were open, revealing a little of her cleavages. Her tie also hung loosely and carelessly, managing to be longer than her skirt.

Her hair, which was in a high, but messy ponytail, swung around, as she walked towards us.

"Why should I? I don't want to." John replied, taking his cup to his lips.

Derel, who was smartly and neatly dressed, looked at me, and scanned me.

"John, do you think your slavery terms allow her to serve a night for a minor?" He asked, still staring at me, and I cringed. How could he think of such a thing?

John smirked, and looked at me.

"Is my secretary too pretty to look at? Please keep in mind she's still engaged to me." He replied.

"That's what everyone thinks, not us. I know you guys are no longer engaged." Derella said, going to sit on a sofa. She crossed her legs, and opened her bag.

"So what do you say? She's quite too hot to be left alone." Derel continued, and I tried hard to keep my disgust hidden.

Even if John consented, there was no damn way I was getting in bed with a minor…

Let's forget about him being a minor, he's another Granger. I didn't want to ever sleep with another Granger in all my life. Mistakes were meant to be made once, and no more

"You should consider her age. She's Twenty-Three, and you're just sixteen. That's seven years apart." John said, sipping his tea.

"Does it really matter?" Derel asked, still looking at me, as he sat on the arm of the couch on which Derella was seated.

"Does she do stuff like homework? Is she smart?" Derella asked, getting to her feet, and approaching me.

"Try her, and you'll know." John said.

"What if she's dumb?" Derella asked.

"Then you'll know." Derel said, chuckling.

Derella opened a math book, and handed it to me.

"Can you solve it?" She asked, and I held out my hand for her pen. She took one from her cleavage, which felt disgusting to me, so instead; I reached into my purse, and picked one out, making her snort.

Derel laughed, clapping his hands, and she picked up a cushion, throwing it at him.

Math… it had been so long… but even being out of school couldn't separate me from my real first love. Math was everywhere. Even while designing dresses, I used it for calculations.

On days, I couldn't seem to get my mind off things, I solved math—horrible math that made me boil trying to solve it.

Yes, Math was a great remedy for taking my mind off things I would rather not dwell on.

My fingers worked like liquid over the equations which were far too simple for me, and Derella's eyes stayed fixed on the numbers my pen created fluidly.

In five minutes, I was done with her questions, which had her awed, but the look of awe was concealed a second later, and she cleared her throat lightly.

"You're sure these are correct, and you're not just making stuff up to get back at me?" She asked, snatching the book from me, and waving it in my face, but John got up from his seat, dropping the teacup loudly, and turned to Derella.

"Move it." He said, and after giving me a skeptical glance, Derella went back to her bag, and dumped her book in, slinging it over her shoulder.

We all left the mansion, and got into John's car. Derella sat in front, while Derel sat between me and John.

John glanced at us both, while Derel hummed cheerfully to a song's tune, as he rummaged into his bag, searching out chocolate bars, and counting them.

The driver settled in, and at the last minute, John asked Derel to take the front seat instead of Derella.

John was too petty. He was feeling insecure of a minor sitting next to me in the car because the minor expressed a certain interest in me.

Did he think I was still his or what?

We drove to the company, and on the way, Derel, and Derella were dropped off at school. A glance at the female students, and I could tell that it wasn't just Derella who had her uniform tailored.

Almost every girl had way too short skirts, and tight, transparent, white shirts that showed the colors of their different brassieres.

Were the girls in the school shameless, or was it just their generation?

The silence with John in the car was awkward, but I had to bear it.

He didn't say anything, and I didn't either. It made it all better. I didn't even want to talk to him. Months ago, him breathing alone killed me because it felt like watching an angel; at the moment, him breathing alone still killed me, except that it was for a different reason.

His every breath annoyed me to the core.

At the company, everyone bowed to us, and I knew they all thought I was accompanying him as his fiancée at first, but a few smart ones noticed I was walking behind him, and not by his side.

We got into his neatly arranged office, which seemed to be filled with books, and more books, and a few men in suits entered after us.

One after the other, after greeting John, they began to brief him on the things that happened in their various departments.

"Your wife is looking really beautiful today." One of them complimented, and John laughed.

"Seen that in multiple people's stares today." He replied, shuffling between the papers on his desk.

"Some people think she's dressed more like a secretary." Another said, with a smile.

"Well, she is my secretary. She wishes to learn business directly from me." John replied, looking at them with that gentlemanly smile I had fallen for. Probably the same one dozens of girls had also fallen for.

All day, John and I attended meetings, and everyone talked about us. It was infuriating, letting John touch me, and pat me as he introduced me properly to his employees.

He had a few important business meetings, and his business partners were more than impressed to meet me. It made me feel nauseated.

The fact that we were not telling people we had broken up was very different from acting like we were still together.

He made it seem like I was his fiancée, and not his secretary, and that was needless, since he had already told countless people I was his secretary.

I ought to have joined other secretaries in pretense of knowing what a secretary did, but he kept me close to him like a possessive husband.

If he let me go, or talked to me only once or twice during his meetings, it wouldn't change people's thoughts on our relationship. He didn't have to overdo it, and disgust me with it.

~

Finally, the long day came to an end, and I went straight to bed, sleeping without taking a shower.

I had spent almost twenty-four hours with John, and it had been suffocating. I just wanted to forget it all.

Luckily, the next day, I didn't have to go with him to the company. Instead, I'd been given work to do, and as usual, it was a large pile of work with little time.

I had never been much of a typist, so when faced with such a huge number of words to make into a Word document, it was a huge challenge. I was slow. It made me wonder why I had never worked with much laptops.

I just wasn't cut out for typing.

John returned late in the night, and walked past my little office without saying a word.

I was almost done by that time. He had given me about forty thousand words to make into a Word document, and to me, it was a daunting task.

I took little breaks because he didn't bother asking about me, and it was early in the morning when I finally finished it.

My body was sore, stiff, and ached from sitting for too many hours in a day, with only little breaks.

I blew air through my lips, and just then, two ladies walked in.

Katie, and another girl, who I identified as the girl John had been kissing.

Her peroxide blonde hair was styled in a ratio of sixty to forty, and she had bright red lipstick on.

She was in a suit matching her lipstick, and I wondered if she was also a secretary.

Did John have a thing for secretaries, or he just liked sleeping around with anyone he could find?

She peered over at my work, and scoffed, picking up the laptop.

Then to my surprise, she raised it, and smashed it to the ground.

My mouth fell open, unable to close, as the hinges of the laptop broke, the casing cracked, and the screen splintered, with a few keys toppling out.

She had just smashed the laptop, and my work!