Bottom Line The bottom line is a company's net income, or the "bottom" figure on a company's income statement. Specifically, the bottom line is a company's income after all expenses have been deducted, yielding a net profit.
Ambitious, but young. The two hardly had their fangs or their claws honed - not to the brutal sort of harshness that came with their forest. In a world where it was always optimal to trample over others, there was an odd sense of companionship among the two. Though young, the two were wildly ambitious. They hungered. For the territory of the forest. For the entirety of the forest. And for the world far beyond it too. There had never been a thought that they had finally reached a point of satisfaction.
Of course they hadn't.
How could they?
Born wolves, there would always be a hunger for something more.
More power.
More wealth.
More control.
And, yet, in spite of all that - the two wolves stuck dearly with one another. The elder had a wisdom beyond his years. The type of wit and foresight that could overwhelm even the most hardened of opponents... but the younger? The younger was brutal. Merciless. The type of drive to tear in where others would hesitate. To rip apart anything that even dared to try and stop him - and together? The two were unstoppable. There was nothing that could be done against them. Bit by bit, they claimed the entirety of that expansive forest and that ambition of theirs never did die out... until -
"So? What are you going to do?" Casual. A tone spoken with that low, laid back rumble from the man behind the desk. Ankle crossed his knee, the dark clad set of trousers contrasted faintly with the rolled up sleeves of his baby-blue dress shirt. Sitting between his index and middle finger had been a lit cigar, faint wisps puffing out on the uncomfortably long pause that surfaced between the two men. Around them, the entirety of the office setting in the private room had been stripped down. Bare walls where there were once dozens of accolades, shelves wiped clean of any documentation, even a desk that was as squeaky clean and impersonal as if no one had ever so much as sat behind it.
Everything about the room was hollow. Barren. Wiped clean of individuality.
"What do you mean, what am I going to do?" Replied the faint, nerve-ridden tone of the second man sitting across from the desk. Folded atop his lap had been a single paper, purposefully flattened down so that the text on the pages wouldn't be exposed to his gaze. Similar in age to the man sitting behind the desk, faint hints of gray would've started to wisp up along his heavier beard and the creases of sleep-deprivation matched the wrinkling against his gaze.
"There is nothing to do." He stated bluntly, picking the paper up and flattening it down harshly on the desk between them with a resounding CRACK. Outstretched palm would keep the document trapped beneath his fingers and though the impact was loud enough to jostle the desk, the man behind the counter hardly so much as flinched. "They fucking gut me. There's nothing much to do. It's done. I'm out of the board. Company is in someone else's hands. Look, I'll say this for your own good as well... if you want to live a peaceful life, just stay out of the way of those blood-sucking parasit--"
"No."
Cutting him off, the simple denial was met with a 'warm' smile spreading across the man's lips. The stretch of a sharper carve along his jawline would work to accentuate a conventional allure. A handsome man. But also unnerving all the same, as if that smile was a thinly-veiled threat.
"...No? What do you want me to do? Walk in there and swing a bat around? This isn't like the fairytales we grew up in. It's time to read the room. Grow up. They're done with me, they'll go for you next. The best thing I can hope for is that I live quietly with my wife and daughter now..." Trailing off again, his gaze sank back down to the document he had just been clenching. A dismissal from his position of CEO. A company he worked so fucking hard to build up from the dirt, gone all in an instant by putting his faith in the wrong people. The wrong hands, the wrong company. Now? Now, everything was gone - everything was just going to filter between someone else's fingers and he was just going to --
"They're not going to let you get away either, you know? When a shark smells blood in the water, it doesn't stop just because it's full. It bites down. Devours. What do I want you to do? Go in there and declare war. Show them you're not someone to be fucked with. Just like when we were younger. Prove a point. You can do that, can't you? You had it in you. You want peace? Alright. Then go and bury the people who wronged you. It's nice and simple. So long as you're a threat to the assets - no one is going to give you a moment of peace... old man or not." A rise, hands flattening down on the bare desk as the man pushed across it. He had only sat in the seat behind that desk to prove a point.
Anyone could take it now. Squashing the distance between them, the sharp glare of his dark eyes would have him flashing that predatory grin of his. "Let's go, Marcus. I'll help you tear them all down. One by one. What do you say?"
Before extending his palm forward to his companion just to be met with a -
- SMACK - away.
"If you know what's good for you, Cain, you will move on and leave this in the dirt right here. Take care. I hope you do well in the company as long as you stay." ...And just like that, the man turned and left. Walked right out that door, tail between his legs.
Just like that, he signed his death warrant. No one had shown up outside the villa residence of Marcus Fischer and plunged a knife into his heart, of course. For the next five, six months after the dissolution of his position as CEO of the Fischer Enterprises, life was still perfectly fine in his household. More time to spend with his family. His household. Alongside his daughter and his wife -- but that was just a pretense of what was to come. Before long, they came. Floods of calls. Texts. Invoices. Threatening emails and predatory traps at every angle. When the former CEO left his company, a big chunk of his shares had gone with him. Not so much that he could remain relevant on the board, but enough that he could hold a sway over the company... and enough to make those at the top worry. And, so, they made his life living Hell. Frequent calls to keep him up at night, frequent meetings with lawyers and legal advisors, constant paranoia that even the small scraps
that had been left to him would be torn out from underneath him to leave him with absolutely nothing at all.
And it showed.
Once faintly graying hair started to grow silver with stress.
Lost weight to leave him achingly thin from runaway nerves was next.
Pushed into excessive alcoholism after that.
And an untimely accident after that.
It was a slow, pathetic death. Irrelevant in every way imaginable. He was put down like some sort of rodent on the street. The specifics had been just as pitiful. One too many shots of his favorite spirit straight into a tumble off the balcony. Conveniently, no one had been there to witness it. Conveniently, his daughter would find that she had not been entitled to his shares of the company - nor was her mother. Conveniently, all the harassment had stopped immediately after his death. Conveniently, were all manner of faceless, impersonal men in business suits from his company at his funeral to express their condolences. Absolutely and utterly pitiful. Everything had been torn from him, not a single scrap or a penny left to his name and likewise... his family was left in the dirt as well. It would not have been long until the entirety of their livelihood was ripped to shreds after a lack of an income. Paying property tax on the luxurious lifestyle Marcus once afforded would've been nigh impossible after all.
Of course, Fischer industries had no intention of helping the Fischer family at all. It was just pointless, empty thank-you's. There was one. Only one that seemed remotely interested in helping. A family friend that had at one point been overwhelmingly close to the Fischers. Close enough to be considered an uncle. Those days were long gone for at least a few of the last few years of Marcus' life - it had been nearly six, maybe seven years since he had last been around.
Cain Garner.
The email to her was polite and courteous. A very simple invitation to his office for a job proposition. One that would pay similar to the role Marcus' daughter had once been fired out of in her father's company.
...
Surely the man that had once been so loyal and close to her father would help the Fischers out in their time of need?
"It's a shame what happened to your father. You have my condolences, young lady." Honey deep tone would announce his arrival before anything else would, the deft open and click of the door locking behind the man in question as he made his way and came to a stop right in front of her. A towering, broad man. Shoulders wide enough that when he came to a pause beside her, there was nothing that could be seen but the rugged expanse of his shirt. A white dress shirt just faintly visible with the top crease tucked into a black vest and finished off by a single, red necktie. Even on the tips of her toes or with a pair of heels, she would only come to about the center of his chest... and that was being sparing.
A mere few moments of guiding her gaze up would deliver her with the fairly handsome sight of a man in his early forties - perhaps late thirties. Sharper jawline dusted with the faint etch of a stubble to darken the faint complexion of his skin. Not nearly as old as her father had been, though if he had, there was a certain grace to the way he had aged. Not with the stress and paranoia her father had.
"You've grown. You might not remember me too well. Or at all, really. Cain. Cain Garner. I was a friend of your father's, Abigail. The only real friend he had in this esteemed establishment." A dry edge of sarcasm lulled from his tone as he gestured around to the general tower itself before finally extending a palm towards her for a polite handshake.
"Now... I didn't tell you to come here to grieve your father. It's a shame, but that cannot be taken back. I have heard that you and your mother have your backs against the walls. Seizure of assets, perhaps not too soon until the foreclosure of your home or the freezing of your bank accounts either." Polite pleasantries would wash away entirely as the man stepped past her and sat down behind his desk, hands folding atop the counter along with one single command leaving his lips.
"Sit."
"Right here, I have outlined a contract." Tapping his fingertip, he gestured to the contract that was still on the desk counter between the two of them. "If you accept, the clauses indicate that not only will I handle any monetary issues with keeping your assets, but I will also pay you similarly to your prior position. However... I recommend you read very carefully. It is not conventional employment. You see... your father and I, we had a little bit of a disagreement when he parted from this company." Cain noted, finally lifting his finger off the paper and handing it off to the woman across from him.
"I have no interest nor time to bother with those who are not unilaterally loyal to me. I would like to help you. However, I have no reason to without incentive. You, young lady, are the incentive. Now... do me a favor and read it very carefully. If you find it unacceptable -" A wide sweep of his arm, gesturing towards the door. "- go ahead and leave. You are a bright woman, just like Marcus was. I am sure you can find some type of other option." Not in time to keep her old lifestyle, however. Not even remotely close. Everything she knew, grew up with, had come to know as hers would be torn away from her... and the only thing that could prevent it was a single, lone contract.
How bad could it be? An excess of working hours?
No.
A complete surrender of her freedom. Clauses and rules that stated he could call on her whenever. The official title of the role was a secretary, but the implications of it was... well beyond that. Property. That was a polite way of putting it. She was signing away her autonomy as a human being. Or she could walk out that door and deal with the aftermath herself. The choice was hers.
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B U T βG O I N G βO N βW H E N βY O U βD O N ' T βH A V E βT H E βS T R E N G T H
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To say that Abigail Fischer's childhood had been a bed of roses would be a major understatement. The only hardships she had experienced early in life were the struggle of choosing which guys to date and deciding who should be invited to her birthday parties. Whatever she pointed her fingers at, she got. Clothes, jewelry, makeup, electronics, tickets, food, flowers, petsβshe got it all. The only thing she couldn't buy with money was good grades. She worked very hard to get them, despite convincing everyone she didn't give a fuck about school. Her parents loved her, but they had high expectations of her. They expected not only good grades but also good behavior. And Abbie was the perfect daughter. Daddy's little angel. She never got in trouble. Not once did she step out of line. She was an exceptional representation of a rich man's daughter. She was untouchable.
β
Despite her father's successful business, he spent a lot of time working from home. He had a business partner who spent a significant amount of time at their mansion, and at the time, Abbie considered him an uncle. Cain had been around ever since she was born, but she didn't really see him for what he truly was before she was thirteen. Hot as hell. She knew he was too old for her, even though he was younger than her father, but that didn't stop her from drooling over him. Every time he stopped by, she made sure to make her presence known. Every Christmas and on her birthday he came bearing gifts and she cherished these as though she had received them from a lover. But he did not show up for her Sweet Sixteen. Nor did he show up for Christmas that year, or any year after that. He simply vanished from her life. From all their lives. He never stopped by anymore, her father barely mentioned him and she knew there was bad blood between him and her father. As years went by, Abbie had almost forgotten about his existence.
β
After graduating college, she worked at Fischer Enterprises for seven months before she was fired for something she would consider a minor mistake. In hindsight, it was obvious that it had just been a poor excuse to get rid of her because of her name. Someone had wanted her father off the board, so when they found an opportunity to get rid of her first, they ceased it. It wasn't like she needed the job. Her family thrived in her father's fortune. Fischer Enterprises had been a goldmine for decades. Even her father didn't need to work, but that didn't stop him from going to the office. He loved his job, even though the other members of the board wanted to do things differently. Abbie didn't know the details, but she'd heard him arguing on the phone on several occasions throughout the years.
β
When the board found a way to get rid of her father, they dismissed him without any remorse. Abbie wouldn't have thought much of it, other than the fact that they were all a bunch of greedy assholes if it weren't for the aftermath that followed. When her father cursed his previous friend and business partner Cain for not leaving the company with him, Abbie knew something wasn't right. She knew they didn't see eye to eye when it came to running the company, but if he had decided to stay with those motherfuckers who had kicked her father out of his own company he must have had an agenda of his own. One she didn't particularly care about until their lives were turned upside down.
β
Abbie was no longer a child. Despite her expensive tastes, she was not a fool. She was a bright, young lady who just happened to be rich. But months after her father had lost his job, everything changed. At first, her father had tried to hide it from them, but eventually, it got out of hand. Threatening phone calls, texts and emails. A shitload of invoices and countless of meetings. But it wasn't the constant threats that scared Abbie the most. Nor was it the fact that they were about to lose their wealth if those assholes got away with it all. No, far from it. It was witnessing what it did to her father. He had always been a workaholic, yet he had always been present. Caring, supportive, including. But now? He had become a ghost of the man he used to be. Paranoid to a fault. He aged several years in the span of a few months and lost enough weight to make everyone around them worried. When he started drinking, Abbie knew there was nothing she could do to help. Several times a week he staggered in the front door like a drunken sailor, and other nights he didn't come home at all. She hated seeing him like this, but she didn't hate him. He was not to blame for any of this. Fischer Enterprises was to blame, and they goddamn knew it. To everyone else, it seemed as though her father couldn't handle being unemployed. Retired.
β
Her father's death didn't come as a shock, but that didn't make it any less painful. And as if his death wasn't enough, Abbie and her mother were about to lose everything they'd ever known. Their home, their fortune, their status, their entire lifestyle. While mourning their beloved husband and father, Abbie and her mother were fighting for their lives to keep what was rightfully theirs. Abbie missed her father every single day, but her hatred for Fischer Enterprises only grew. If it weren't for them, he would still be alive. None of this would have happened. No one would be struggling and her life wouldn't be hanging by a loose thread.
β
And that was why she had accepted Cain Garner's invitation when it had appeared in her inbox five months after her father's funeral.
β
H E R βC O U R A G E βW A S βH E R βC R O W N
A N D βS H E βW O R E βI T βL I K E βA βQ U E E N
Abbie had considered canceling this meeting several times over the past few days, yet here she was. In Cain Garner's office. When they had let her in, she had expected him to be there. She didn't know why she was disappointed to find out that he wasn't. How long had it been since she'd seen him? Not since a few months before her sixteenth birthday, which meant seven years ago. Would he even recognize her? She had already started to blossom into a fine lady at the age of fifteen, but now she was fully grown with small, but defined curves. Her hair was longer, her facial features more mature and it wasn't hard to tell that she was no longer a child, but a woman. One that wasn't particularly happy about being stood up, despite his original intentions. Because it had crossed her mind, that he was simply fooling her into believing that the job was hers. That there was no job at all. But Abbie was desperate, so she was determined to accept his proposition. If he decided to show at all.
The first minute, she just stood in the center of the room, letting her eyes take in everything there was to take in. His office seemed plain and simple. Boring even. He had no personal photos or belongings, at least not on display. It made her wonder if he even had a girlfriend. She'd never seen him with one back when she was younger either, but he didn't exactly strike her as gay either. Perhaps he was just too busy with work. The next two minutes she spent roaming. Not that she dared to touch anything. But it seemed he had nothing of interest, nothing that told her who he was or who he had become. They were strangers now.
The clock on his desk continued ticking, making Abbie more frustrated by the second. At some point, she was tempted to hide it in a drawer or take out the batteries, but he would definitely notice if she did that. At another point, she was tempted to sit down, either in his office chair or in one of the other chairs, but she decided against it. It was just her luck that he would make an appearance as soon as she made herself comfortable.
She was staring out the window when he startled her with his voice. Abbie turned around in time to see him walking towards her. For some reason, she couldn't remember him ever being so tall, or so well-built. He towered over her even in her heels and she had to tilt her head backwards to meet his gaze. He looked as handsome as she remembered, perhaps even more so now that his age didn't bother her. He was certainly too old for her still, but now that she was about to turn twenty-four herself, age was just a number. "Thank you," she said, even though she wasn't convinced that he meant what he said.
The vague comment he made on her appearance indicated that he did in fact recognize her. Or perhaps he just admired the way her black dress clung to her body and highlighted her curves. A faint smile spread across her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes. She remembered him just fine, even more now that he had refreshed her memory. "I remember you."She didn't care to elaborate. There was a hint of resentment in her voice as if indicating that she remembered him abandoning her when she was younger and then betraying her father afterward. He was no real friend of her father, not really. And no friend of hers either. At least not yet. But she shook his hand nonetheless, her grip firm and warm.
β
Her smile fainted as he mentioned her struggles. As if she wasn't fully aware of what was going on in her own life. Her eyes followed him as he stepped around to take a seat at his desk, and she was about to open her mouth to thank him for stating the obvious when he all of a sudden ordered her to sit. That tone was nothing like the one he'd just spoken to her with. She took a seat in one of the chairs right in front of his desk, crossing one leg over the other. Her eyes landed on the contract on his desk between them for a brief moment before returning to his face.
β
She listened very carefully to what he said, not quite understanding the message he was trying to pass on to her. When he handed her the contract, she took it. She held it in one hand and used the other to flip the pages. She had already scanned the first page and flipped over to the second when he continued. This time there was no doubt as to what he was trying to convey. She tried to look unfazed by his words when in reality she could feel the panic settling in. Her gaze followed his gesture to the door, and she swallowed. He had her backed into a corner and he knew it.
β
Abbie didn't say a word as she read through every page of that contract. Every single word. It had been rather obvious what he had tried to insinuate before, but here it was, black on white. Dread started to fill every cell in her body as she realized what it all meant. The contract was simple enough. She'd be a secretary at Fischer Enterprises. But even without reading between the lines, it was obvious what she'd be signing up for. Or rather, what she'd be signing over to him. Her freedom. Her body. Her bloody soul. And the fact that he knew she had to do it, only made it so much worse. She had no other option, not unless she wanted to lose everything she'd ever known. But would losing herself be any better?
β
Her eyes were glued to that last page for what felt like forever, staring at the line where she would have to sign her name if she wanted to accept his offer. To think that she'd once considered him an uncle. She could understand that it might not have been in his best interest to help them out of the kindness of his heart, but this? Offering to help but only if she surrendered herself to him. She'd be at his mercy at all times. Despite how hard she tried to hide it, it must have been obvious that she understood what the contract entailed. The shock on her face, the terror in her eyes. Her pale face, her quick breaths. Abbie put the contract down in front of her and grabbed a pen from a nearby stand. She would give him what he wanted, if only because she wanted what he could give her, but if he thought for a second that she was still that spoiled little girl he had known, he was sorely mistaken. "You'd better hold up your end of the bargain," she said, her voice steady and cold as ice.
Then she signed her name on the black line.
β
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She remembered him. Such a simple statement and yet it was something that made the slightest hint of bitterness swell in his core. Everything would be much easier if little Abbie had not cared to put a face to his name - nor memories from a sweeter time. In an ideal world, Marcus Fischer would still be alive and well and this princess would still have her silver spoon in her mouth without needing to deal with demons like Cain Garner. This was not an ideal world. The warm grip of her hand was met with a single, solemn expression that stared dead ahead into her eyes for only a few fleeting moments to see if, perhaps, he could glean some sort of hope in her gaze - but he found none. Good. This was not mercy for Abbie and that was something she would learn very quickly. Turning his gaze away from her, he cast it off to the high rises that towered up beside the window of his office. In a jungle, one either had to be a tiger or had to follow one to not be devoured up. Her father made a stupid fucking mistake, letting go of his fangs.
Only time would tell if that mistake was also one that Abbie would make.
You'd better hold up your end of the bargain,
Briefly, a deep breath would exhale from his lips and he would plant a palm onto the edge of his desk to raise himself up. When she was seated, that distinct difference in their size was so much more prominent. "Remain seated." Came the ice cold reply from his lips. A few steps around would have him pausing directly behind Abigail, his height ensuring that she would be staring straight at his belt when he came to a halt directly beside her all up until the sudden CLENCH of his rugged, faintly haired hand would snap around her throat from behind. Curls of his fingertips swept along the outline of her neck, digging just deep enough that she could feel his fingertips right up against her, now, likely terrified pulse. Her tiny little neck in the grip of a man that large felt like he could break her throat in absolutely no time at all if he so much as added even a hint more of pressure.
"I think that you do not understand the position you are in right now, young lady. But then again... that's something you and your father had in common, isn't it?"Cain had no doubt that this little blonde princess never had a single man in her life so much as lay a finger on a strand of her blonde hair but quite frankly? He didn't give a fuck. Raising her head backwards, he forced her to peer her eyes back onto those dark orbs that glared dead into her own gaze. "Isn't that a bitch of a fact, Abbie? All your father had to do was listen to me. He would still be around. I'm tired of people who won't listen to me, Abbie. Do you understand that? So the next time you make your little smartass comment about... you'd better hold up your end of bargain, just remember this - " Squeezing. Slow the tension was starting to build on her throat to the point that breaths were becoming difficult.
He was not choking her.
Not yet.
But he made it very clear that he could at any moment and she would be completely at his mercy. The way his palm fit around her throat was near perfect too, as if he was no stranger to showing an uppity brat like her what her real place in life was. "- you will follow me loyally. If you do so, I will provide everything you could possibly need or want. You do not question me. You do not go against me. There is only one thing I need from your fucking lips, Abbie --"
One thing.
The loosen of his hand around her throat would give her one moment to breathe, but not so much that she might've thought she was out of the woods with that, His hand came to settle around her wrists next, kicking the seat out from underneath her and smothering her down to the table next to the contract she had just signed. Both of her wrists were coiled up in just one of his palms, forced to slam right down on his desk. Grabbing the pen she had just signed with, he flicked the cap off and the next sound she would hear was the CRUNCH of the tip of that pen snapping down onto the wood of the desk a mere few millimeters away from her face. He wasn't afraid of hurting her. He seemed to actively be looking for a reason to.
"You respond when spoken to. When I ask you to do something, you reply with - Yes, Sir. Anything else will be taken as an act of defiance. Keep your head down otherwise, Abbie. I'm not your father. I sure as hell am not going to spoil you. Welcome to the real world, princess." Those words were practically spat out with bitter vitriol. Not anger at her, per say, but a general frustration at the nature of this harsh business world. The very same that devoured up Marcus Fischer like he was some sort of morsel of meat. One that would serve to sink its fangs right into Abigail Fischer as well if she didn't learn her place. To be compliant. Obedient. To follow the strongest man in the room and that man was --
Cain Garner.
Her new employer.
And her new owner.
"Now... I will ask you one more thing and think carefully before you open your mouth -" Allowing her wrists free, the effortless way he manhandled her onto the counter of his desk would likewise guide her to sit upright over the edge of it. The bulky, thicker sensation of his thighs and far larger body would force her dainty little legs to remain separated between his hips. One hand pressed flat on the counter next to her thigh and the other dipped beneath her chin to raise her gaze high enough to meet his own glare.
Abigail watched him rise to his feet and all of a sudden she felt t i n y. He towered over her seated figure and for a moment she considered getting to her feet as well, but then she decided against it as soon as he opened his mouth. It sounded like a direct order, and since she had just signed that bloody contract, she figured it was best to do as she was told. She didn't move as he walked around his desk and stopped behind her. Her gaze was glued to his empty chair. Her pulse had skyrocketed as soon as he rose, but as soon as she felt his massive hand against her throat, her heart threatened to jump out of her rib cage. For the next few seconds, she forgot how to breathe. He didn't choke her, but he didn't have to. His fingers wrapped perfectly around her throat and she had a feeling that he could easily break her neck if applied even the slightest amount of pressure. Abigail remained frozen, her eyes filled with something she had never truly experienced. Fear. She tried to convince herself that he wouldn't be foolish enough to kill. Not now right after she had signed his contract. She had to remind herself to breathe. To stay calm. To not panic. It didn't help.
Tears threatened to surface as soon as he mentioned her father. She wasn't ready to hear his cruel words, nor was she ready to face him, but when he forced her head back, glittering eyes looked up at him. Don't you dare cry, she told herself. How dare he talk about her father like this? As if he could have saved him? If someone was to blame, Cain was high on the list. If only because he hadn't done anything to help him. She knew Cain was a powerful man, and right about now, she was beginning to wonder if she should have left his office instead of signing her name on that contract.
She opened her mouth to answer him, to tell him that she did not understand. Why would anyone listen to him, when he was so full of shit? "Iβ" But as soon as she opened her mouth, he squeezed. She'd tried so hard to remain calm, but now, that ship had sailed. Up came her hands, tugging at his wrist in an attempt to make him loosen his grip. Her eyes widened in pure terror as it became difficult to breathe. She expected him to cut off her air supply completely and felt almost relieved when he didn't. But the pressure he applied on her throat was just enough to keep her desperate for air and her vision on the verge of blurry. Blinking up at him, she listened carefully to what he said.
She should have left his office when she had the chance.
When he loosened his grip around her throat, she expected him to leave her be. To even ask if she had changed her mind about it all. Because she had. But before she had a chance to wrap her head around what was happening, her entire world came crashing down. It happened so fast she didn't know what hit her until she found herself on top of his desk. He had her wrists in an iron grip, and most of her upper body was sprawled out over the desktop, forcing her legs into an awkward position. Her mind barely registered what he was doing with that pen before it came crashing down right next to her face. She flinched. A few millimeters to the left and it would have sliced her cheek right open. Or maybe he was aiming for her eye. Or maybe, he hadn't missed at all. If he had wanted that pen to hit her, she was sure it would have.
What came out of his mouth next, sounded a lot like instructions. Abigail didn't like any of them. They were all ludicrous. He was sure about one thing though. He was not her father. Not her uncle. Not even a friend. She wasn't quite sure what he was, but it sounded like he wanted her to be a dog. A dog who could speak when spoken to. And then it was that goddamn word he called her. Princess. She might have felt like one growing up, but she most certainly didn't feel like one now. He sure as hell didn't treat her as one. And what was this nonsense about the real world? Did he think she lived in a fantasy world? She might not be used to being manhandled as no one had ever laid a hand on her other then in bed, but she wasn't exactly oblivious to what was going on in the world. But never in a million years had she expected him to be a villain. At least not hers.
After he released her wrist, she didn't have a lot of options. Remain there, or sit up straight. She helped herself up, but she didn't get far. He stood in front of her, in between her legs, forcing the fabric of her dress far up her thighs and her to stay put. There was no way she could escape him. Not even if she tried going backward. He invaded her personal space on so many levels. She let him tilt her chin up but avoided his gaze for the longest of times. While she cowered under his stare, he seemed to relish in hers.
"Are you ready to work for me, Abigail?"
No.
She was not ready. Not by a long shot.
Her body screamed no. Her eyes screamed no. She wanted to say no. Wanted to spit no in his face. Yet, her mouth remained closed. She stared blankly up at him, trying to find the right words to say. Or any words for that matter. She had not been prepared for this. Even after reading through and understanding what the contract meant, she was not prepared for this sort of torment. Abigail had made a terrible mistake. Perhaps the biggest one yet. Why oh why had she signed it? Why hadn't she just left with her dignity still intact? Her freedom. Now, she had no other choice but to see it through. She had to prove to this asshole that she was not some damsel in distress. She was not a fragile, little princess, but a mighty queen. He might own her body, but her mind was still hers.
She could still feel his phantom fingers around her throat when she eventually opened her mouth. Her voice was hoarse, but she didn't care. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble, no matter how terrified she truly was. βYes,β she lied. βI am ready to work for you, Cain.β She said his name with enough venom to kill a mammoth. βHowever,β she quickly added, her voice still laced with hatred, disbelief, and a large dose of shock. βI'd appreciate it if you only used your words from now on and not your filthy hands.β And then, as if she just remembered something important, she added, βSirβ. It was purely mockery.
If he looked closely, he would see that the look in her eyes did not correspond with the tone in her voice. Abigail's voice might sound cool, but her heart was pounding in her chest and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't conceal the fear in her eyes. Only a fool wouldn't be terrified of him.
It was rather adorable, how she seemed to talk back to him in that trembling way of hers in spite of the fact that everything within little Abbie would've been telling her that she was out of her league. That sheer vitriol in her tone was the type practically begging for more abuse -- and she very nearly seemed to receive it in the way that Cain raised his hand to slap her right across the face for daring to talk back to him. As that broad hand came down... it hadn't been across her cheek. A tender, all too adoring caress that had him stroking over the side of her jawline with his thumb. Traces of his fingertip felt from one end of her jaw to the other in slow swipes. "Good girl." His tone felt like pure honeyed sweetness. An utterly bizarre shift from how brutal he had been with her in those mere few moments. "I can see the fear on you. If you are afraid, you are compliant. If you are compliant, you will be good to me. Won't you, Abbie?"Of course she would. Even with her mockery and bravado, she had already accepted one thing in her heart.
Cain Garner was much more powerful, much more influential than she was. It mattered little to him if she fully seemed to accept whether or not she was a mere possession at this point.
"Now then, dear... let's lay some informal ground rules down, shall we?" Something about the way he held her in those moments he was being more tender felt loosely romantic. As if he hadn't just shown to her a mere few moments ago that he could crack her in two like some sort of pathetic, worthless little twig. Both of his hands caressed along her back, holding her waist tender as ever. The same hands that had grabbed at her throat or her hands had now been holding her from behind. Those filthy but delectably rough, rugged palms that felt like they fit so right on her slender and feminine back. Eyes locked with hers, there was nowhere to look but straight into the darker orbs of her new boss - her new Master.
"From now on, you will adhere to a dress code. When you enter my office, you are not to be wearing heels. Only flats. If you require a few pairs to match your wardrobe, I will be happy to gift you some." That feeling in her core of her being small... miniscule in comparison to him. He wanted to cultivate it. To keep her as small to his stature as she could be.
"You will match my colors on any given day. If I wear something dark, so will you. If my tie is red, your dress will be red. And on that note, I expect your wardrobe to only consist of dresses and skirts. No pants under any circumstances." Property. Possession. Plaything. There was no need for her to look respectable in business attire. What he required of her was to complement his entire persona and that meant he would crush her individuality to bits.
"You will start your day with me, helping me to open my office. No one will be in during those times so it will be just the two of us. I expect you to behave as if you are in company regardless." He would always reinforce her behavior regardless of whether there was anyone there to pay attention to her. Anyone there to see that she was his perfect little secretary. It would be broken into her meticulously.
"...And, I suppose, for the last thing, Abbie..."One graze of his fingertip over her lips, tracing with his dirty hands right over the cleft and curve of her feminine lips. "...you will only ever refer to me as Sir from now on. Not Cain. Not Mr. Garner. Sir. If you fail to comply on any of these, I would be happy to show you what happens to disobedient girls."If she was afraid, she was compliant. If she was compliant, she was good. No matter how many times it took to reinforce that in her, he would. It hardly mattered to him if that left her terrified and broken, that wasn't really something he cared much for. Everything so far was generosity in its own right, there was no need to help a girl like her. Once he had laid out his simple rules, the grip of his palm would loosen off of her back and with it she would fall back against the edge of the desk with a soft thud.
"I am very likely not the man you expected me to be, but that is just the nature of business. Men like the one you idolize, your father, get torn down while those like me thrive in an environment like this."Cain explained, stepping past Abbie to sit himself down behind his desk once more. Grasping the drawer's handle, he would open up his desk and gesture to her one more time to sit back down on her seat across his desk. Folding his hand along the long edge of the paper, he would turn it upside down to hide its contents before passing it towards Abbie so she could take a look at it. A ledger. The official documentation was the petition and eventual removal of Marcus Fischer as CEO of Fischer Enterprises, along with all the names and signatures of the board members that had signed off on it. More or less, the ones that had driven her father into a corner.
"I can promise you one more thing, Abbie. Every man on that list - I will destroy them. That is my end goal. You will help me. With any luck, you will learn how to do business as I do - not as your father had." It was impossible to tell what those words truly meant. Would she become a terrible person? Rotten at her core? Or merely capable of defending herself like her father had been unable to do... if she would become someone like Cain, maybe it was more of a blessing to end up ruined like her father had been. To become a villain or to keep her morals to crash and burn like the former CEO of Fischer. That was what she weighed on her hands in that moment.
"Now... I have said my piece. Do you have any questions before I dismiss you? Your first official day will start tomorrow." Freedom. There was still one more day of freedom where the conditions of their contract would not go into effect. She could walk right out that door and never return if she truly wanted to... but Abigail knew full well what that would imply. Cain knew that. She was a bright young woman, after all.
When he raised his hand, she expected him to slap her across the face. She even prepared for it, closing her eyes for just a moment. When he didn't, Abbie wished he had. The way he caressed her cheek sent chills down her spine. It didn't hurt, yet her stomach turned at his sudden gentleness. What game was he playing now? She didn't move as he brushed his thumb over her jawline. If he hadn't shown her his true colors mere moments before, she might even have leaned into his touch. She did no such thing. Instead, she kept still, like a mannequin, and just stared up at him with her green, terror-filled eyes. She tried not to give him a reaction as he praised her like she was some good dog that had just learned a new trick. The worst part was that it was fucking true. Abigail was and had always been a good girl. Yes, she had bent the rules and pushed a few boundaries these past few years, but she'd always been good. She'd never gotten in trouble and she always seemed to get her way. It seemed those days died with her father.
After she'd let his words sink in, her lips parted slightly and a whisper came out. "Yes." Did she have a choice?
Abigail honestly didn't know what was worseβhaving his hands choke her or caress her. Neither felt right. But Cain had her trapped between him and his desk, so she had nowhere to go. There was no escaping this until he released her. And the way his hands caressed her back and how his massive palms were wrapped around her slim waist made this feel like something it wasn't. There was absolutely nothing romantic about the situation, but his touch could easily have convinced her otherwise. Had she not known any better, which she did. But if someone had walked in on them, it looked like they were about to do something completely different than going over the rules of her new. . . life.
She was quiet for a very long time, listening to every single word he said. Every rule. Every violation of the little freedom she had left. Abbie hadn't realized just how much control he would have over her. What freedom did she have left if he were to decide how she looked and how she dressed? It was obvious why he wouldn't let her wear heels, and she hated him for it. He towered over her when she was wearing four-inch heels and he wanted her to wear flats. It was ridiculous. And then there were the matching colors. He might as well lay the outfits ready for her the night before. Only dresses and skirts. That part wouldn't be too difficult, but what was wrong with pants? She'd make sure to wear them at home and when he wasn't around.
Starting her day alone with him wasn't how she'd like to start her days, but she knew she didn't have much of a choice in the matter. She didn't know why he felt the need to remind her to behave properly when it was only the two of them. Was he afraid she'd do anything stupid? Or was he afraid she'd embarrass him? Because she had a feeling that none of those things would happen if she just played along. How difficult could it be to play this game of his? If all she had to do was do as she was told, she couldn't imagine it would be that hard.
At least she hadn't thought it would be until he touched her face again. His finger grazed over her lips and it took a lot of willpower to not bite him right there right then. What he said only made her want to bite him even more. She held back a smirk as he added that last bit about showing her what would happen to disobedient girls should she fail to comply any of the rules he'd just laid out for her. As if she would be foolish enough to do that. "I won't fail, Sir." This time she sounded more confident, probably to convince herself that her words were true.
An inaudible sigh of relief escaped her lips as he loosed his grip and she fell back against the edge of his desk. She resisted the urge to snort at his statement. He was not at all what she had expected him to be. Abbie hadn't had high expectations in the first place, but she'd never expected this. For him to be such a devious asshole. The fact that he'd even suggested it. Why not just offer her a job? A regular job. She could have easily worked for him without all this extra bullshit. It was too late now, but she couldn't help but wonder why he required so much from her to lend her and her mother a helping hand. He'd mentioned incentive, but she wasn't sure if that was truly the case. Her mother could never know about their little arrangement. No one could ever know.
She sat back down in her chair, grateful to finally be rid of his invading presence. When he slid the ledger over to her to look at, she took it and flipped it over. Her eyes widened when she realized what she was looking at. This was a list of the men who were the reason her father had been stripped of his position as CEO. She knew, without him telling her, that these were responsible for her father's death. Resentment and sorrow replaced the fear she'd just felt as she looked up from the list to meet his gaze. She believed his promise to be true. That wasn't what bothered her. She was glad he was planning to destroy them. It was that little add-on at the end where he implied that she would learn to do business like him and not like her father. Men like him were nothing more than predators. Predators who devoured sweet, little prey such as herself either. She would never become a predatorβa villain. Even if he tried to make her one, she'd make sure he failed. She would follow his rules, but not to oblivion. Abbie knew her life would never be the same. Signing that contract had made sure of that. He had made sure of that. She would play his game, and follow his rules, but never in a million years would she let herself become a monster. But if he wanted to test her courage, she'd show him that even a cute, little kitten had claws.
It was a lot to take in, and she had plenty of questionsβmany of which she didn't particularly want to know the answer toβbut she only needed him to answer two before she could get the hell out of there. "How will I know which color to wear and at what time should I be here in the morning?" A short pause, and then she added, "Sir". Perhaps this was going to be harder than she'd thought after all. The rules had been simple enough, but calling him Sir didn't come naturally. She'd rather call him Asshole. Even Cain was better than Sir.
Her first day would be tomorrow. She couldn't quite wrap her head around it. Her life as she knew it was over. Well, sort of. She would still be able to maintain her lifestyle, but what good was that if she wasn't free to do what she pleased and wear what she wanted? As she waited for his answer, she started to think about how she'd spend her last day as a free woman. Wearing pants, for sure.
How will I know which color to wear and at what time should I be here in the morning?
No reply. Not even the slightest hint of acknowledgement with his gaze rising to meet her own, not until she took that pause and properly referred to him in the way he had trained her to. The moment she had, he rested the document in his hand back down onto the desk. "I have your phone number, Abigail. You left it on your resume. I will send you what I plan to wear for the day. Dress accordingly." Opening a nearby drawer, he pulled out the blonde's resume and laid it right atop the desk before tapping onto the number she had left. "This is up to date, yes? I used it when I was originally contacting you as well." A resume that the man had hardly given a damn about. In no way did he test her on her credentials. In no way had she been in this position because of something her skillset could offer him. The reason she was here? It was because she was Marcus Fischer's daughter. That was the only reason she was here. Once the woman had confirmed that everything was up to date, Cain would stick the resume back in his drawer. Undoubtedly, it would be going through a paper shredder the moment she was out of that doorway... but that didn't particularly matter either, did it?
Nothing mattered at this point.
She surrendered everything she had when she signed that contract.
"You went for school for business, correct? Your property has back taxes you cannot pay. Whoever pays those taxes becomes the owner. I hope you understand what I am saying to you, Abigail. Behave. Be a good girl. You will get everything you want if you do." Cain spoke calmly, the deep roll of his huskier tone coming out not as a threat or intimidation but rather a simple fact of life. The financial world was a cruel, harsh place that did not give a single fucking damn whatever her conditions had been. If she could not pay, she would lose everything. Her home. Her livelihood. All of her assets, money, and security for the future. Cain had the ability to tear it all away from the girl the moment she decided that this prissy little bitch was a little too proud to be following the orders of her new boss. Of course. Of course she could simply report him to HR.
It was the same as spitting on his face. Nothing would really be done, surely, and he'd just devour up what was left of Marcus' assets. But she would get just one moment of solace and comfort in knowing she was not someone's plaything.
She would not do that.
"Now then!" Clasping his hands forward with some dry, stark hint of sarcasm in his tone... he would stand up once more to escort Abbie out of her seat and towards the nearby door of his office. "I am sure you are very excited to be working for Fischer Enterprises then. I trust you understand that everything that transpired here remains between the two of us, yes? You are a bright woman, after all." Bark. I dare you. Though his words were polite and had that sort of 'business' lingo to them - it was easy to read between the lines for what he was saying to her. Whatever happened behind these closed doors would remain slowly between Abigail and Cain. No one was to know about it. Not a single soul. With a gentle grasp along her waist, palm nestling right against the flare of her hips he would take her to the door and loosen his touch along her body right before raising beneath her fingers to press a kiss to her knuckles and the back of her hand.
"Have a lovely evening, Abbie. I look forward to working with you." Had she just shut her mind off and imagined the last few minutes to not have transpired... maybe that man in front of her would have been charming. A handsome employer that treated her with a hint of tenderness. At this point, she should have known. Two-faced, and he wore his fucking mask so well. With that final farewell, Cain would wait for Abigail to get out of his room and the moment she stepped out he would close the door shut to return to his desk. Good. It made no difference whether or not Marcus' daughter was here to witness the carnage... but one thing would be for certain. The revenge would be so much sweeter if they saw that the last thing those fucking pigs on the board of Fischer Enterprises saw was what they tried desperately to destroy.
The taste of something like that would be saccharine.
Good evening, Ms. Fischer.
You have my suit for tomorrow outlined in the following message.
I look forward to your first day of work. Remember to be here promptly at 9AM
Just as Cain had promised, Abigail would receive the entire look of her new boss late at night - set atop the nearby bed in the photograph. No tie, he seemed to like leaving his top button undone. It was a lot darker of a palette than his original look, sporting a maroon jacket and trousers alongside a dark button-down. Nothing exceptionally hard to match with as far as colors had went... but undoubtedly the more she worked for him, the more she would be having to upgrade and fill out her wardrobe with clothes of his likeness.
Yet another something that she would be having to deal with...
Still, there was no telling just yet how much wiggle room she had in terms of what she would be dressed in.
Cain never stated she had to actually show him what she was wearing to work until she got there - and there was no strict sort of guidelines on the exact type of fashion he was looking for. Maybe he would not even care at all if the colors were off? That was only if she was willing to be brave enough to try it with him.
It would not matter either way. He would discipline her all the same, after all.
Their meeting spot was not the office he had once terrorized her but rather, Abigail would be directed that Cain was waiting for her atop the balcony along the top floor. In every way, there was this eerie sense of... complete control on the floor that Cain had his office. Despite there being more than enough space for several other office rooms and cubicles, the only one who resided near the top of that building was Cain. Even the balcony fitted with comfortable, beige couches and gorgeous overlooks of the city had been utterly vacant aside from one lone figure that had been standing, overlooking the cityscape below. Clear glass panels rounded by dark edges would keep anyone safe and capable of looking over.
From this far up, everything on the road below looked like a mere speck crawling from point A to point B.
"Abbie. You're here. Come." Cain spoke, gesturing the woman to take her place right by his side while the two of them overlooked the city. He made no attempt to look at her just yet, making sure the reveal of her outfit would only occur when she was right beside him. No heels. No pants. Matching colors. Just like he fucking told her.
In Cain's free hand had been a Styrofoam cup with the lip peeled back to let a faint hint of the hotter coffee spill out from the top. Documents had also been laid atop the table of the nearest booth showing he had already been working for some time before Abigail had gotten there - work that a normal secretary like her would be doing in his stead. "Now, Abbie... let's take a look at you." Turning away from what he had been staring at before she could properly catch where his gaze had been focused, he took a proper look at what she had chosen to wear for the day. For him.
For her job.
No one else mattered in that moment but the approval of the man in front of her who - had she not worn her usual heels - would have made her seem miniscule. Meek. Dainty. Soft. A little fucking princess that barely came up to his chest. The orders might've not made too much sense to her, but for him the reasoning was simple. He wanted to make her feel overwhelmingly small in comparison to him. Not just physically, but mentally as well. He owned her now. She was his.
That was what her life had become. And all it had taken was a few pen strokes on a piece of paper. A goddamn signatureβher signatureβon a black line. A binding contract between her and her new boss. CAIN GARNER. They both knew that he would be more than her boss. So. Much. More. She'd be his puppet and he'd be her puppet master. Abigail might as well have sold her soul to the devil. Yet she had a feeling that selling it to Cain was worse. She was still trying to wrap her head around what had happened in his office. How quickly he'd changed from a monster to a knight in shining armor. It was like he was playing both the good cop and the bad cop. And it was terrifying. The way he had pinned her on that desk, his fingers wrapped around her throat. . . and that gentle caress that made her wonder where the monster had gone. He was so unpredictable. Like a ticking bomb just waiting to explode in her face. It was only a matter of time, and she had a feeling she wouldn't see it coming.
Abigail had gone over their conversation at least a dozen times, trying to make sense of it all.
It still didn't make sense. It probably never would.
Have a lovely evening, he'd said. Abbie had just smiled at him then, pretending to keep herself together. How was she supposed to enjoy her evening when everything she could think about was what a terrible mistake she'd made? He'd offered herβ e v e r y t h i n g, and she'd taken it. Hadn't even given it a second thought. She'd realized a little too late that the price was way too high. What good would money do if she wasn't free to live her life as she wanted? Her life was no longer hers. Her fucking home was no longer hers. Everything she owned would be his or thanks to him. But the most fucked up part? The part that made her insides crawl. She was his. She belonged to him now. He could boss her around, touch her as he pleased, and bend her to his will. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Nada. He'd made that perfectly clear. Oh, but she could definitely try. But Abigail was no fool, she'd heard the threat behind his words. If she so much as breathed of this arrangement to anyone, there would be consequences. She did not doubtβnot even for a secondβthat he could break her. If he wanted to.
Before Abigail went to bed that night, she made a promise to herself. No matter what he put her through, she'd come out alive
β β β β β β ββ stronger.
She would notyield.
She would notbreak.
Abigail had worn pants for the entire evening. A pink, satin pajamas. Her new favorite from last month's shopping spree. She smiled to herself as she imagined the look on Cain's face if she showed up wearing that to work in the morning. His expression would have been priceless. Would he wrap his fingers around her throat again in disapproval? Pin her against a wall this time? Or would he send her home to change? Or perhaps he'd make her strip, right there and then. A shudder went through her at the thought of undressing in front of him. Her smile faded quickly. He had said he wanted her help to destroy the men who had brought her family to their knees. Those who were responsible for her father's death. If it weren't for them, he would still be alive and she wouldn't be in this mess right now. Cain wouldn't have any power over her. She wanted to hate themβthe men on his listβand she did. But while they were responsible for her father's downfall, Cain was now responsible for hers.
When she opened his message, she let out a frustrated groan. She studied the picture of his outfit. "You've got to be kidding me." For half an hour she searched her wardrobe for anything to wear. She didn't exactly have a lot of maroon in her collection, and the one dress that resembled the color was a full-length gown. There was no way in hell she would show up to work in a dress she'd wear to a ball. Eventually, she found an old, plaid skirt tucked away in a drawer. That had to be good enough. And then she found a cute off-white sweater to go with it, along with a belt she'd bought last year. Cain had insisted on skirts and dresses, but he'd never mentioned anything about sweaters, tops, or blouses. Or whether or not he wanted her to show some skin. She was going to take the liberty of wearing a sweater that covered every part of her upper body. He should have been more specific if he'd wanted her to wear something a bit more revealing. Besides, the short skirt made up for it.
The next morning she added the belt and necklace to her outfit. She was about to grab a pair of heels when she remembered that he'd given her strict instructions to never wear heels in his presence ever again. "Come on, come on, come on," she muttered to herself as she searched shelf after shelf for a pair of flats. She knew she had some, but she hadn't realized she only owned three pairs. None of which really matched her outfit. She remembered he'd offered to gift her some, but she didn't think she needed him to. In fact, she didn't want any gifts from him at allβunless he gifted her back her freedom. "Fuck," she cursed out loud as she grabbed the last pair of flats she could find. She'd already wasted precious minutes searching for them. It had to be these or heels. The bright pink ones were out of the question and the leopard ones looked fucking hideous. She'd definitely get rid of them later and invest in some new ones. Perhaps some a bit more neutral. Cain probably didn't care what her shoes looked like anyway, as long as there were no heels on them.
Abbie had dressed exactly as he'd instructed herβwell, sort of.
She arrived at Fischer Enterprises with two minutes to spare. Half jogging to the elevator, she prayed that Cain's watch aligned with hers. He hadn't wanted to meet in his office, but outside. Abbie hurried through the top floor and out through the glass doors at the end. On the way over she'd tried to convince herself that she was ready to face him, but as soon as her eyes landed upon him, she realized she wasn't. Despite knowing exactly what he'd be wearing, she was still surprised to see how dashing he looked in that suit. The way it hugged his back and outlined the muscles of his arms. She couldn't deny that he was an attractive man. Dangerousβyes, but attractive nonetheless. It was a shame he was the Devil incarnate.
Walking on flats felt odd, and as she got closer to him she was reminded how tall he was. She swallowed hard as she came to a halt next to him, making sure to leave some space between them. The view of the city was spectacular from up here. But she didn't have time to admire it before his voice brought her back to the present. The height difference between them was surreal. He'd towered over her in heels, but now that she didn't have those extra four inches, she was miniscule in comparison. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze without hurting her eyes.
If he didn't approve of her outfit, then perhaps he would appreciate the color of her lips. At least those matched the color of her skirt and his suit. It had taken her quite some time to find it, going through lipstick after lipstick to find the correct shade. Not too bright, not too dark. If anything, it made her lips look bigger. Despite her quick pulse, she showed no sign of fear. Steeling herself for whatever opinion he might have on her outfit, she said, "When you're done gawking at me, Sir. . . perhaps we could get started?" Once again that Sir was purely mockery, but this time she concealed it better. A fake, innocent smile spread across her painted lips. She'd show him what a good girl she could be.
Abigail had not broken any rulesβnot yet. None that she knew of, at least.
Appreciating the color of her lips was precisely what Cain had done first. One thumb over her jawline and the extension of his index finger would come dangerously close to the center curve of her lips. One press down was all that was required to smudge her lips... if he bothered to ruin her meticulously applied layer right then and there. "I like this shade, Abbie. This type of lip? I'm a fan of. But not -" Followed by a clench of his hand under her jawline, along the softer skin of her throat and then a squeeze. "Who is gawking at you, Abigail Fischer? Is it me? I should make one thing very clear to you... since you are operating under a misconception here." Cain could choke her. Abigail knew that. He had already done it once in the office. This time around, however, the grasp on her throat was more like he was yanking around a disobedient kitten or a puppy held by its scruff. One step forward until her back hit the cold glass of the divider and with it he would force her gaze to meet his own. "If I wanted to gawk at you - treat you like some sort of hunk of fuckmeat or some warm cunt to spread whenever I wanted to..." A grab of her skirt, rolling it up while the hand around her throat threateningly squeezed around her throat to warn her not to act up.
Not like this. Not when he had his hand on her neck. The result was the awfully humiliating sight of her rolled up skirt exposing fuller portions of her untouched inner thigh. Panty-clad, but likely not in any sort of relevant color. The moment that the skirt was rolled up fully, that broad, thick palm would dip right between her inner thighs and grip right against her pussy with a squeeze. Rich, rougher portions of his masculine hand effortlessly devoured up just how dainty and feminine that panty-clad outline had been. "...don't think for a single second that I wouldn't just tear this out of the way and rape you right here. You're an easy fucking target, Abigail. Keep your bratty mouth in line. I don't want you just because you're some eye candy. There's a million women in the world. If your value was just being a worthless cunt, there's zero reason for me to waste my time with someone so disobedient. Don't forget that." Releasing her finally with a scoff, he thrust her back against the glass of the divider one final time before taking a look up to what his eyes had been on prior.
"Roll your skirt back down and look ahead. You see it, don't you?" Cain gave her little time to collect herself after what was essentially just assault. Clearly he had not cared for any amount of trauma or physical intimidation he laid on her in that moment - that did not matter to him in the slightest. In the field they were in, pretty women like her were nothing more than assets to enjoy. Right by the people in the building they were overlooking in that moment...
"Right... there. At the very top of that tower. It is the primary banking building for Fischer Enterprises. That is right where they outed your father a few months ago. Quite frankly, had I not interjected you likely would be up on that top floor a few weeks from now in front of the board as they read out to you the fact that your inherited ownership of the company is now in their hands. Now wouldn't that be a shame?" With his intervention, the concern for that was diminished. Whatever her father had left her still remained in her portfolio. ...So long as she was in Cain's good graces, after all. Dipping one hand into his right pocket, the man pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Cupping the box against his palm, the slow CLICK and SNAP of the silver-tinted lighter would have Cain finally...
SPARKING - a flame. Right in front of the two of them. Big enough that it would eat up the entirety of the Fischer Banking building. A gesture that he repeated once or twice before a small scoff finally escaped his lips.
"I quit smoking a while back. Started again after your father quit the company. Smoke, to me, smells like shit. Pure garbage in every sense of the word. But release is a little bit like that, I suppose. Sometimes you need to burn something down to its ashes to cleanse a mood." Rather than plucking out a cigarette, he set the carton back into his pocket and then handed Abigail the lighter to fiddle with... to which one thing may have become readily apparent. It was familiar. Very much so. Something that became more apparent in the waning years of her father's life when he was smoking and drinking more heavily.
He had one too. An exact version of the one that Cain now possessed. They hadn't been the same, of course. This one hadn't been nearly as smudged with ash as her father's had been.
"In one week's time, Abbie, Fischer Enterprises will be throwing a party for all the major shareholders. If you own above a certain amount of the Fischer stock, you are invited. Essentially a means to kiss ass with the affluent and listen to their wishes but it's nothing more than an over glorified ball. It just so happens that you and I fall into that threshold as well. You, with your father's inheritance, and I with my own shares. You will be attending this party with me. And you will see first hand..." Another pause, palm reaching over to caress the back of her own hand with one careful trace of the tip of his thumb over one knuckle to the next - more so to ease the lighter out of her hand than it was to feel over her palm. Cain would recollect the lighter within moments and set it back into his jacket's chest pocket.
"...How disgusting of a world your father was really facing against. Until then, however, we have a full week to get through. If you show yourself not to be compliant enough to be taken as my partner - I will cut you from the plan. I have no real desire to waste time straightening out a mutt. I will find another way." To him, the revenge was more important than Abigail's closure. If she could not comply, he would not care. He would still burn that company to the ground.
Turning away from the overlook, a few steps towards the couches surrounding the singular table with stacked papers would have Cain sitting back down to pick up one of the documents and start jotting something down with a pen. "Those flats are rather adorable, but they're not professional. Take time in the evening. You will go out shopping with me. Both for your flats and for a proper dress to wear at the shareholder's party. Come here and sit. We have papers to get through. If you have questions, ask. Do not mouth off to me. It gets a little tiring to have to discipline you so early in our day." Cain stated with an exasperated sigh, offering her another pen and dividing the documents in a proportion that was more or less like 2:5 -- with her taking approximately less than half of what Cain had. Clearly, he didn't expect her to be able to keep up even in that regard.
As soon as his hand reached out to cup her jawline, she just waited for him to make his next move. She half expected him to drag his finger over her lips and make a mess of her lipstick, but his touch was too lightβuntil it wasn't. It shouldn't come as a surprise, but she still wasn't prepared for it. But unlike the incident in the office, Abbie didn't panic this time. No, her arms rested alongside her body and she kept her breathing calm. At least as calm as it could be when she had someone's hand wrapped around her throat. He could probably feel her rapid pulse. She knew he was holding back because she could still breathe, but his tone indicated that he could just as easily strip her of that luxury. Abbie didn't like his tone at all. In fact, she didn't like anything about him right now except for perhaps his suit.
She let him push her against the glass divider. Even if she had tried to stop him, she wouldn't stand a chance. He was too big and too strong, and Abbie did not have a death wish. Not yet, anyway. She had decided not to fight him this time. Instead, she was going to beβor at least pretend to beβthe good girl he wanted her to be. . .
But then he crossed a fucking line.
Tohell with being a good girl. To hell with him.
If thiswas the game he wanted to play, thenβ f i n e.
β β β β β β ββ β GAME ON.
It took every ounce of self-control not to fight him. To prevent her own hands from pulling down the skirt he had rolled up her thighs. She looked up at him with a mixture of rage and humiliation. He had no fucking right to expose her like that. Well, technically, he had, but that didn't matter. He was way out of line. It didn't matter that it was to prove a point. It didn't matter that her black, lace pantie was sexy and that her ass looked amazing in it. It didn't matter that no one was there to see her but him. Nothing mattered except the fact that he had crossed a fucking line. And just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, he cupped her pussy. Squeezed it as if he had every right in the world to do so. This time, she couldn't have stopped her hands from moving even if she wanted to. They moved so fast, wrapping around his wrist and forearm in an attempt to remove his hand from a place he had no business exploring. Pure terror filled her body when he threatened to rape her right there. NO. He would never do that. He couldn't. She was practically his niece. But he'd already done a lot of things she thought he'd never do, so a part of her wouldn't put it past him. She was tempted to speak up, to dare him to do it. If only to find out whether or not he was bluffing. Before she had a chance to make up her mind, he let her go.
She tried to hide how uncomfortable she was as she rolled down her skirt. If he thought she would forget this, he was mistaken. Abbie did everything in her power not to look fazed by the fact that he'd just rattled her. She would notβnot now, not everβgive him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble. So, she put her game face on. If he thought he could break her, he'd have to try harder. Abigail was too pissed to think straight. "Oh, I see it," she murmured, letting her eyes land on the building he was looking at. She saw everything more clearly now. Cain, especially. He obviously considered himself some sort of knight in shining armor who had swooped in at the right moment to rescue her from an unfortunate fate. The irony of the situation was that in doing so, he had made her life even more unfortunate. Fucking miserable was more like it. It had only been a dayβnot even thatβand he had already made her life a living nightmare. One she couldn't escape without entering another. Because instead of being penniless and homeless, she now had to put up with him. And Abbie tried to convince herself that she could handle him just fine, but deep down she knew that wasn't true. Not. Even. Close.
Her eyes watched the flame closely. Not because she was fascinated by it but because she was afraid he would suddenly burn her with it. She wasn't particularly interested in having that flame any closer to her face. It wasn't until he handed her the lighter that she recognized it for what it was. It wasn't as worn as her father's had been, but the same nonetheless. She studied it while he spoke, relieved to avoid his gaze. He spoke of a party she had no interest in attending, but it was clear she had no say in the matter. Abbie hadn't noticed the pause in his speech until his fingers brushed against her hand, and he took back the lighter she had forgotten was his. She lifted her gaze to meet his.
He said he wanted a PARTNER, and yet he treated her like an underling.
Abigail watched him settle down at a nearby table but made no effort to follow him. Not until he practically ordered her to take a seat. But as soon as her butt landed on the couch opposite him, she regretted her decision. Her eyes narrowed as her revulsion grew. Enough. She'd had enough of his fucking bullshit. She definitely should have remained by the dividers where he couldn't reach her, but to hell with it."Well, I'm sorry"βshe truly wasn'tβ"for being such an inconvenience, Sir." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "I didn't realize I was forcing you to discipline me every time I open my mouth. But don't worry, Sirβ" She flashed him a sarcastic smile, before continuing, "I'll take your advice into consideration and think twice before I open it again." As if she hadn't already opened it. Despite what had just happened by the divider and in the office yesterday, Abbie couldn't help herself. He was so fucking infuriating. And now that his hands weren't at her throatβor her pussyβshe seemed to have regained her courage. If he wanted her to be quiet, he shouldn't push all her buttons atonce. Not only had he violated every definition of personal space and flat-out assaulted her, but he had the audacity to complain about how tiring it was for him to discipline her when he was the one being a fucking asshole. And then he had only given her a fraction of the documents as if she was an incompetent amateur. "And I've already got a dress, thank you very much." She didn't mention the flats, because she did need new ones. But Abbie wasn't exactly jumping at the opportunity to go shopping with him.
It was such a shame the day had just begun because Abbie could hardly wait for it to be overβif she lived to see the end of it. d49fa8
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