"See you tomorrow, ma'am." Was there any limit to the heights of success humans aimed to climb?If Clara had thought of her position as an executive assistant a turn around which had elevated her status, then being offered the position of a fashion design tech was in non-simple words, an acceleration. Nothing was simple about her life anymore; she had people book appointments to see her and employees she accounted for. Being secretly involved with a global business mogul wasn't nearly the most complex thing in her life right now, perhaps observing the shadows who failed at following her discreetly was. She could see them now as she opened her car, could hear their footsteps as they apparently hurried to board the car next to hers. At first she had thought that their inability to go unnoticed was a flaw on their part, till she realised that it was very intentional. They weren't hiding the fact that she had security because they were sending a message to Tony Viscount.Or in more blu

Clara's soft breathing was all he could hear when his chauffeur halted in front of her building. Exhaustion had first kicked in after that heavy sexual session, making him guilty for having used her to relieve his tension. Not that she'd had any complaints after her third orgasm, but guilt was nudging at him because he was supposed to be explaining to her why she shouldn't chant Marie Claire's praises to him, and though she would find out soon when he exposed the old bitch and had everything she had worked for crashing down, he felt guilty because he had used Clara. Simple. Which was a novelty for him considering how much he had reveled in using manipulative methods to get what he wanted from people. Those tactics had helped him get to where he was now. He hadn't lied to her about his background, but keeping her in the dark was close to that. Yet the thought of opening those wounds in his memory made it easier to shut his trap instead of spilling. The limo which had been following

Andre had gone past the beginning stages of looming headache. He was now in a state where the sides of his head were pounding incessantly and his vision was blurry as he stared at the multiple figures on the screen. His glasses which he picked again after so many months were tossed carelessly beside the laptop looking as useless as they had been to his burning eyes. He hadn't felt this kind of migraine in a while, but then, neither had he engaged in the kind of tedious activity he had done the previous day which could have been life threatening if he hadn't built his muscles in the gym. After those hours of rough sex and taking Clara to her room, he had driven aimlessly under the influence of fear and rage at himself, a combination which had been more dangerous than alcohol. It would have been better if he were intoxicated by a chemical which was bound to wash off with time. Because hours of long drive hadn't made his mood any better, but had instead offered him time to think about

'There are many things going on with me that I can't explain now, but I want you to know that I'm not playing with you. And I don't intend to.'Those words, spoken with the calmest and the most affective voice had the burning fire of rage she felt quenching as soon as she heard them. But it did nothing for the anguish she was experiencing even as they kept replaying in her head.What was she to do? She had fallen in love with the one man who had made it clear from the outset that he wasn't interested in whatever that had to do with the depth of feelings she had for him.Yet she couldn't walk away from him even with that awareness, but had her traitorous heart going out to him when he muttered those words, her eyes taking on the resistance in his expression. His fingers had been itching to touch her, reaching out to her and withdrawing at the last minute.Then he had swallowed hard and requested that they make it through the meeting first. Honestly at the moment, she wasn't interested

"Dinner has become cold, ma'am. Should I have them reheat it or are you still waiting for...the boss? You still haven't had lunch yet." Andre's housekeeper had a tone laddened with concern and a little bit of pity for her. As though she had been abandoned by her lover or something. The staff had started giving her that look three hours into her arrival, and then come to ask her each hour after that, whether she still wasn't going to have the meal they prepared. Apparently the chef had been excited by her presence and graced the table with courses of meal. A shame that she couldn't muster any appetite to eat. "Don't worry, you can just retire. I'll heat it up when he...returns." Her voice had grown soft after hours of lying and sitting and pacing the living room, her hair disheveled from the raking of her fingers scattering the permed professional style it had been in earlier. Now it was just a mess; full and cascading down her shoulders, her eyes dull from darting constantly towa