Samantha's POV
While the idea of petty payback was brewing in my mind, the odd sense of hate was threatening to overwhelm me. I loved the revenge a little too well for what he had done to cause me pain. I was starting to enjoy playing the revenge games instead of conveying the hate I was supposed to feel.
I stopped myself from teasing him, from enjoying the spiteful look on his face. I forced myself still and stared at him as he made his speech, trying not to focus on how the glasses looked perched on his chiseled face or the streak of silver being reflected by the light beaming through the translucent windows. I needed to focus, on tearing apart his job entry project.
On the other hand, Rexhard wasn't particularly pleased with me. All the words he had carved out for a magnificent display had been shoved down his throat the moment his ill intent leaked, worse still, right there in their presence, while he stood looking like a pretty, harmless boy.
Realizing he couldn't keep up the farce, he took his fancy glasses off, stripping away the fake formalities, since the mask had already been torn. I gave him a look, subtle, unreadable, but oh, he noticed.
Rexhard, ever the sly and cunning fox, wore a more menacing look today. Not quite as bloodthirsty and ruthless as usual, but still intimidating. As if to say, Alright, you've won. You've seen my true colours. This is all I'm capable of.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it's a pleasure to be formally stepping into the role of Strategic Director, managing a 20% share of this esteemed conglomerate," he prattled on, meeting the eyes of every board member.
I could barely stand his fake attempt at being something he wasn't. The disgust I had just swallowed rose again like bile.
He was manipulative and hateful. And there he was, playing perfectly into the character he'd created in his mind. Psychopathic.
"I believe Mrs. Samantha has been a little mistaken," he continued, drawing looks from the board that screamed: Your next words better save you from this mess, or else.
Rexhard, now parading as Alex, was clearly fuming beneath the surface, while I was doing everything in my power to make his life hell.
"Yes, my father has 19% of this esteemed company's shares," he said, "but they were fought for through legal services. Not a single one was gained through threats."
I shot him a knowing look. Of course, he was trying to make himself the victim. Classic.
Ignoring me entirely, he went on. "I'm only here to help the partner company and climb my way up the board, as my father wishes."
He bowed slightly, though I could see how much he loathed every bit of it.
"So indeed, I might be your rival, but only in the everyday workplace competition. Please take care of me."
Mr. Adolf, one of the major shareholders, raised his hand.
"Mister Alex, your father has 19% of our company's shares, and he sends you here to, according to you, 'rise through the ranks' and win more shares? Don't you think that's a little too greedy of you both?"
Heads nodded subtly all around.
Mrs. Hammon chimed in, "Let's render a vote. Rather than make him Chairman or Assistant CEO, let's demote him. He did say he wanted to rise through the ranks, didn't he?"
The board chuckled slightly.
"So, Mister Alex," I said, rising slowly, savoring the sight of him gritting his teeth, knuckles clenched into fists, "your verdict has been passed."
"All in favour of making Mister Alex a—"
"No, Miss Samantha," someone interrupted. "He's new here. We need someone to keep an eye on him."
A new motion was raised.
"All those in favour of him being Samantha's Executive Secretary?"
Then it happened. The sharp snap of a pen splitting in half pierced the room.
Alex smiled immediately. "My apologies. I dropped my pen," he lied, masking his fury.
I smiled too, wide and unapologetic. I didn't spend a second thinking about how or when he would get his revenge. He'd been done dirty, and I loved every second of it.
The meeting ended swiftly, the little drama swept aside as a casual incident. No one knew that the man they had just humiliated would someday take this company into the skies.
But that was the thing with mafia heirs. They still had to show a repertoire of skills to lead the conglomerates they invested in. Some entered in secret, others openly, but only to essential staff. Some tried to own it all, like Rexhard.
That was why I despised him.
My parents, ever spineless, welcomed his ambition with open arms. They didn't care if he swallowed the company whole, they were content being puppets. I hated them for it.
I built this company up myself. Every brick. Every deal. Every department.
And now Rexhard thought he could waltz in and take over?
He had no idea who he was messing with.
I'd show him who really ran this place.
Just then, I felt a whisper of perfume and a familiar shadow trotting into my personal space.
Mrs. Holmes, my Grand Aunt, leaned in like a nosy grandmother with a secret.
"Is that a hickey I see, dear girl?" Her eyes sparkled, ready for scandal.
I opened my mouth to respond, but she carried on without waiting.
"If it's so visible this early, it couldn't have been at your house, was it?" she wiggled her brows.
I resisted the urge to face-palm.
"That leaves… the company!" she gasped, covering her mouth theatrically. "You have a boyfriend in your office?? Who is it??"
I gently pushed her eager face away and sighed. "Grand Aunt, trust me. You don't have to worry about any man in my life."
She didn't budge. "So the hickey?
"Not a man," I replied smoothly. "Just a pinch. Had a little… issue this morning." Subtly implying self harm damage..
I steered her curiosity away from my imaginary boyfriend and toward concern for my mental state.
And just like that, I escaped that wholesome but exhausting interrogation. I loved her, loved her more than anyone else in my family, which wasn't saying much, but I still felt a tiny pang of guilt for lying.
I'd make it up to her. Later.
But for now…
We've got an eye candy to torture.
"Hey there, Mr. Secretary."
My grin widened with each moment.