I'd never have lasted a week in this place if not for the fact...
That was the answer right there, wasn't it?
The reason why I was still working here was the same reason everyone thought me crazy for sticking around.
My glance drifted towards my boss.
He was just so...hot.
The billionaire was still leafing through the financial statements I had prepared, and just like always I couldn't help but stare, couldn't help but feel all sorts of tingly as my gaze lingered on his profile.
Bluish-black hair that were always combed back in sleek, shiny waves, eyes a feral shade of gold, and chillingly illustrious features that made me think of Roman emperors of old. He kinda reminded me of that villain in Gladiator, only my boss was a hundred times sexier.
Honestly, if we did time travel to the past, and Dmitry was the master I'd end up with, I'd obey his every command with pleasure. Oh, just the thought of my boss ordering me to do anything naughty...
The images that fluttered in my mind were decidedly NSFW, and I absently ran my tongue over my lips—-
Dmitry had chosen that exact moment to glance up, and I found myself frozen with fear, the tip of my tongue still out.
Two F-bombs in a row were never good, and as expected, the enigmatic billionaire was now glaring at me like I had just admitted to killing chihuahuas for fun. That was also my cue to leave, and I gestured nervously towards the contracts he had yet to sign, saying weakly, "Mr. Diamandis..."
"I'll get it to him," Dmitry snapped. "Now go."
I was out in a flash, heart racing like I had just dodged a bullet. Even though I was willing to bet my entire life that the billionaire would never raise a hand against me...
What my mind knew was one thing. What my body instinctively felt was another, and my knees instantly turned into jelly the moment I stumbled back into my seat. I rested trembling fingers over my chest, and my heart thumped instantly against it.
Dmitry would never hurt me. Never.
But that didn't make him any less terrifying.
Dmitry was not evil, and he never would be.
But that didn't mean I was completely safe.
Dmitry hated me, and that was unlikely to ever change.
But even so...
Idiot, I chided myself as I reached for the mouse and clicked open a new spreadsheet to tackle. Such an idiot, Tahoma Garamond Baskerville. Such! An! Idiot!MOST PEOPLE PROBABLY imagined my work with Strakh Inc. to be exciting and dangerous, but if that had really been the case, they would have never hired a klutz like me.
In reality, my main job was to crunch numbers forty hours a week, and I was really good at it. Exceptional even, which could be why I had ended up in their radar in the first place.
But as much as I enjoyed working on spreadsheets, there had also been times when I felt that my job was slowly killing me with boredom. It was only when I started working for Strakh Inc. that everything became meaningful, and each spreadsheet became the most glorious hunt for uncovering fraudulent anomalies.
And while my job description might still leave a lot to be desired for people who weren't big with numbers, perks-wise, however...
My workplace - contrary to my initial fears - was not the claustrophobic underground hideout where I had my job interview. Instead, I got to work Mondays to Fridays in the same swanky building, above ground. Our office was at 34F while my apartment - which I enjoyed rent-free - was at 24F. I even had a company-paid SUV for personal use...plus gas allowance!
A dream job, just like Keagan said, but the perks were only the icing on the cake. What truly made my work worthwhile was the absolute certainty that everything I now did served a higher purpose.
Just last week in fact, I was able to uncover a paper trail leading to a corrupt politician's secret bank account in the Cayman Islands, and recalling this had me smiling.
Oh, the joy of cracking the supposedly uncrackable—-
My head jerked up, and I bit back a yelp of surprise at finding Dmitry suddenly standing across my desk. With his height and build, you'd think he'd be lumbering around like, I don't know, an elephant?
Instead, he was impossibly stealthy like the jaguar he reminded me of, and I supposed that made sense, since he was the leader of Strakh Inc. and-—
Oh shit, my boss was still glaring at me.
"S-Sorry, sir." I hastily got rid of my smile, thinking that it was what he found so offensive. "Is there anything I can do—-"
A sheaf of papers landed on my desk. "I've made a couple of revisions," he said brusquely. "I need it back before lunchtime."
"I'll get on it right—-" My voice trailed off as Dmitry had already turned around and stalked off.