The knock at the door was so light and for a moment, a part of her thought it could be another Mike's Richard's women…one of his countless playthings.
Why not…she had just barged into one earlier, having sex with him on his desk, and nothing would surprise her again.
Instead, it was the receptionist from earlier, standing there, she was staring at Cynthia for some minutes before her mind recalled where she met her.
“Didn't I tell you he doesn't see walk-in? Or were you too busy trying to make an impression?”
Sanchez said, eyeing Cynthia with a disdainful stare.
Cynthia tightened her grip on her bag, forcing herself to stay calm. “I had no choice”, she said evenly. “It was urgent”
Sanchez scoffed, but before she could deliver another biting remark, a sharp voice cut through the tension.
“Sanchez!”
They both turned to see Mike standing there, staring at his employee.
“Let her be,” he said, this time leaving no room for argument.
“But sir..” Sanchez stuttered
‘I said, let her be, ' Mike repeated, his icy glare silencing her.
Cynthia gave the receptionist one last stare as she made her way out of the room.
“What now?” Mike asked without looking up.
“The family Lawyer called; he said it's urgent,,” she said with her tone dipped. “This is the 3rd time he called today”
Mike exhaled sharply. “ Bring me the phone and leave”
She handed him the cordless phone, lingering a second too long. But as he shot her a cold glance she scurried out of the office.
Mike pressed the phone to his ear, pacing slowly as he answered.
“Yeah?” He barked into the receiver.
“Mike”, Barrister Henry’s voice was calm but insistent. “We need to talk about the terms of your father's will”.
“We always need to talk about the will…always” Mike replied, his tone laced with boredom. “Get to the point”.
“You've got 5 months,” Barrister Henry said, the words citing Mike's bravado.
“If you don't find a wife by then, the company, the assets--everything…will be allocated to the government and to charity…remember?”
Mike pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Barrister Henry, I don't need you calling every hour to remind me of my father's ridiculous demands”.
“Ridiculous or not, they’re legally binding…and I was trusted by your late dad for this job and for the sake of his generational investment,” Henry replied. “And unless you're prepared to walk away from everything, you'd better start taking this seriously”
Mike heaved. “ So what, you expect me to put on a tux, smile at some gold-digger, and say ‘I do’ for the sake of a company I brought back with my blood and sweat?”
“I expect you to act like an adult,” Henry countered. “You're playing a dangerous game, Mike. The board is restless. Your mother is breathing down your neck, and if you are not careful, this entire empire will slip through your fingers”.
Mike's jaw tightened. He hated being told what to do, especially when, deep down, he knew Henry wasn't wrong. “I’ll handle it; five months is plenty of time”.
“It's not”, Henry shot back. “Not if you keep treating this like a joke. Your father set these conditions for a reason. He wanted you to settle down, build a legacy, and stop seeing people as disposable”.
Mike's jaw tightened, his grip on the phone turning his knuckles white. “My father wanted to control me, even from the grave. That's all this is.”
“You've always been cynical, Mike, but this is bigger than you,” Henry said. “The board is already watching you closely. One misstep, and they'll push you out. You don't just need a wife, you need stability…fast”.
The line went dead before Mike could respond. He tossed the phone onto his desk and stood, running a hand through his hair. His reflection In the glass wall caught his eye.
Every woman he'd ever been with had seen that mask, not the man.
They only cared about what he could give them, and so…he would only keep them for a short period, in exchange for what they could only offer… rough sex.
BDSM was his sexual fantasy, and he couldn't keep a long-term partner due to his limitless sex urge.
“Cynthia Taylor”, Mike murmured, her name rolling off his tongue.
He thought of the way She had burst into his office earlier, her face a mix of fear and determination. She wasn't like the others. She wasn't polished, or pretending. And she wasn't there to take from him…she was there to pay a debt.
She'd said she was going to do anything.
Anything.
And Cynthia needed something from him as much as he needed something from her.
He gazed at the door, where She had stood just moments ago.
“Wait…Cynthia Taylor”, he murmured her name again, a smirk on his face as he immediately sat upright when what he saw as a smart idea passed through his brain.
He thought about her body, the way She carried herself…very confident, the way her shirt clung to her curves, the way her lips trembled but she still spoke with determination. She had potential.
The idea made him so excited and each second passed with many nasty thoughts he'd unleash on Cynthia.
Tomorrow, when she walks back into his office, he'll make her an offer she can't refuse.
And he'd enjoy watching her struggle to say no.
__________________________________
Cynthia, however, had no idea what awaited her.
As she left the building and made her way home, her heart pounded with uncertainty. The weight of her father's best pressed down on her shoulders.
The memory of what she had just seen Mike Richard made her stomach Churn.
With what she saw…she didn't trust him. But she didn't have the luxury of choice anymore.
The evening felt heavier than usual as she flagged down a taxi. She needed a plan. She needed to come up with something.
Because once she stepped back into the office, there would be no turning back.