Hello and welcome,
Thank you so much for selecting this book.
Just so you all are aware, there will be character switches. It should be easy to identify because I mention the name of the character at the start of the chapter. (like Ryan Kingston or Erika Nadine). Whenever there is a time skip, I use this ‘~’.
Please note that I’m not a native English speaker, so I apologize for the grammatical errors you may come across. Don’t hesitate to point out my mistakes (as in tell me should I learn parts of speech or phrasal verbs or anything else) in a constructive way. But if it is all you have to leave a comment or review on, please click that little back arrow and find a perfectly written book.
If you don’t understand or don’t like particular scene feel free to comment below when the characters annoy you, I’m not going to get butthurt but I’ve hardly sufferance for mean comments; you will be blocked (yes, that may seem a little on-board but I prefer my mental health over your negativity :)
With that all being said, let’s hope you will enjoy the book.
With a heavy push the door swung open to reveal the living room; the golden rays of the early morning sun were illuminating my apartment, a warm gentle breeze blowing in the house through the windows. The crisp white living room anchored by a couch, a pair of armrests and a coffee table created an oasis of simplicity yet eclecticism. Just the way I needed.
Just as I stepped into my house, the sound of my phone ringing went in the air and I produced my phone before looking at the screen. It read grandpa. Heaving an annoyed sigh, I answered the call.
“Hello!” I greeted him as I raked my fingers through my raven hair.
"Ryan, son, where are you?" He enquired, sounding unusually worried on the other end. Before I could answer, he shot another question. ”Have you seen the news?" The warning ringing in his tone made me anxious.
It was a simple four letter question, but on of the few thing I dreaded so much. The News never meant a good thing. It was always either an invasion of privacy or a wildfire of rumors.
“Ugh, what’s it now?” A low groan left the back of my throat even as my fingers tapped on my phone screen to turn on the television.
"The young CEO has been spotted hiding his new tattoo!!" I groaned.
Here we fúcking go again!
"Less and less of the business man’s body seems to not be covered in ink these days and the 25 year old has unveiled yet another tattoo to his world." The news went on.
For fuck’s sake, I got it just a week back.
"The new tattoo is tattooed in black and white on his left hand as an extension to his henna style wrist tattoo and a full series of hieroglyphics type tattoos on the upper and middle part of fingers of his left hand."
"Although it’s not a rule tattoos are considered unprofessional and appearance to do matter in business the 25 year old in spite of being the heir, couldn’t take over the CEO chair because of his unprofessionalism yet it doesn’t seem to bother him as he flaunts with a new tattoo."
"You’re supposed to make a deal instead you got a tattoo, you know what screwed you at first place and you’re still reckless son." He scolded
The judgement ringing in his voice pumped anger into my blood as I stared at the television’s screen, reading the headlines as the news went on.
“It isn’t instead because the deal is done and what I do with my body is my wish.” I screamed into the phone and turned off the television.
"Lad, if you are really careless about your reputation, how do I help you out?" He groaned in an ostentatioussolicitous way.
“Help?” A snigger escaped my lips.
"Ryan, you know--" Knowing what was about to come, I cut him short.
“You and your board of directors are one hell of dip shits. You people judged my skills because of the ink on my body.” I snapped.
"Ryan, CEO is the face of the company and your unprofessionalism might affect the company’s reputation."
“Fuck the reputation, Walter. Fuck everyone--”
A titter of cheerful laughter went in the air. Taken by the tone, I whipped my neck towards the source only to find Rodger -- my twin cousin -- standing behind me.
“Don’t trouble the old man.” Rodger chuckled.
"Rodger!" Grandpa whined, and I rolled my eyes.
“Holy shit! The new tattoo is sick.” Brown eyes shinning with admiration as his eyes swept the ink etched into my skin.
“Have you heard that, old man?” I challenged Walter as I made a gestured to Rodger as my acknowledgement before making my way to my bedroom.
"Lad, one don’t call me that, two I know the tattoo is cool but sti--" I didn’t let him continue as I discarded my jacket.
“Nah, enough old man. If I keep on talking more I’ll be late today.” I hung up the call before walking into the shower.
Standing in the East New York, in a wide avenue to form a peaceful cityscape, Kingston Textiles unapologetically galloped up to the sky, clad in acres of glasses that reflected the golden light from the sun onto the busy roads of NYC. Yet, it could never stand a day against the headquarters of Kingston Industries (which was located in London).
“Mr. Kingston, how does it feels to get a new tattoo again?” A reporter started their enquiry as I climbed out of my car. I didn’t waste my time in turning back, instead I walked into the building.
The tension built in the air was obvious when I entered the reception area. Silence rippled through the ground floor as I moved towards the elevator. I heard a few greetings here and there to which I acknowledged with a terse nod before I pressed on the button for elevator. As I awaited the elevator’s descent, my eyes ran swiftly over the place, making a quick scan of the first floor.
When the elevator doors opened with a ding, I stepped into the elevator before pressing the button to the 20th floor.
“Good morning, Mr. Kingston,” Carla greeted me as soon as I stepped out of my elevator. Giving her a nod, I ambled down the hall leading to my office but my steps halted as I heard Carla’s panicked voice. “Mrs. Stennett--”
“Is late?” I cocked a brow, not an ounce of surprise washed over me. Only disappointment.
“Ye- Yes Sir, seems like it.” Carla wrung her fingers in her hands. “Can I help you, sir?”
Keeping my reply concise, I told her. “Yes, I need you to draft Mrs. Stennett’s termination letter.”
Carla blanched for a split second before nodding her head. “Yes, Mr. Kingston.”
Not wasting another moment, I made my way to my office. A smile split my face as I took in the workspace.
This bright, light office is the perfect place to think and create. The architects who remodeled my office did an impressive job, taking advantage of the natural light that streamed into the corner unit. The neutral colors for white walls were accentuated with grey-coloured carpets, curtains, and bookshelves, the huge mahogany table, along with my plush chair and two armrests sat in the middle room, contrasting the color scheme without losing elegance.
I walked over to my chair and plopped into it. I picked up the top most file from the pile laying on the table top before burying myself in work.
Around two in the afternoon, when I was tapping on my mac keyboard, answering an email, the door opened to reveal Rodger stomping into the room with a scowl. The annoyance painted on his features surprised me because one can barely find it on his face. He was an overindulged child who took nothing seriously.
Correction: he only took parties and sex seriously -- earnestly.
“Why the fuck did I see her here?” He yelled as he approached my desk with a clenched jaw.
“Blixit!” He hissed and ran his hand through his hair messing it properly. Gigi Blixit, my ex, and Rodger were never in good terms so this outburst didn’t surprise me.
“Rog, she literally just exists.” My eyes were glued to the screen as my fingers tapped on the keys. From the corner of my eyes, I could feel Rodger shooting me a glare, and I heaved a sigh. “What did she do now?”
“Did she come here to fuck with you again?” I shook my head not knowing what to answer. “I swear if she thinks she can fuck you and strut around like she owns this place, then help me, Ryan.”
I tilted my head. “Will it be okay if she doesn’t strut around?”
“You were laid right?” He raised his eyebrow accusing me, I tried to stay stern but he continued, “of course you were, your face has sexual afterglow and you are so cheerful.”
“Rog, I don’t think I need to give you explanation about my relationships, do I? now” The words left my lips before I could shove them down my throat but I wasn’t entirely wrong.
Still I didn’t have to be a dick to my twin cousin.
“Listen, when I was on my business trip Gi called me, she was regretting everything she did, ” he made a ridiculous expression which I ignored as I continued, “she was treated like shit in her new workplace. She was apologizing Rog, she was broke and was in vulnerable state.” he gave me a ′she deserves it′ look but I added, “so I hired her. She started her work today.”
I wasn’t really sure why I forgave her after all she did to me but when she bragged into my office with tears in her eyes, I couldn’t hold it anymore.
“Ugh, she is a lying bitch. ” He mumbled there was dead beat of silence for a minute before he spoke again. “This Saturday I’m throwing a party, it’s going to be amazing with lots of liquor and cigars.” He started bragging about it, leaning back in his chair and his eyes bright and wide from his ideas, if anything he was a proper crackhead at that moment.
He was intense, loud and fucking properly annoying. In spite of the fact that he was bullshiting in my work time I still enjoyed talking to him (unlike 98% of people I have in my life). His fondness for liquor and cigars never ceased to amaze me and not to mention his love for one nightstands. He was a typical frat boy in a twenty-six year old body.
“Ryan” Liam, one of my best friends, barged into my office. Rodger knew that it was worked related and calmly sneaked out of my office.
Not bothering to glance at him, I mocked his accent, “Yeah, Ryan!“.
Liam sank down into his seat -- one of the two chairs across from mine -- as she started, “Have you heard of--”
“Drop it, if it’s about my new tattoo.” I hissed.
“Andrew gave me a call; he said he’ll deal with that. I’m talking about your assistant.” Liam answered before giving me a glum look. “Your non existent one,”
Andrew Kingston, my late father’s twin brother and Rodger’s father, was always the one to clear up any mess related to the media.
“Mr. COO, you need to take it upon yourself to find a worthy candidate to be my assistant.” I gave him a look, resolving the crisis and dismissing the matter.
“You don’t have to worry about that because Walter has already appointed someone. She is moving all the way from Seattle to New York only to work here.” Liam said.
If I wasn’t pissed off already about the whole tattoo bullshit, I would’ve been now. For the life of me, I could never understand why my family -- who also happened to be the members of the BOD of Kingston Industries -- wouldn’t stop meddling in my business.
“Woah!! What makes you all think I’ll just randomly let anyone be my assistant? I need to interview her.” I shouted.
“Stop being dramatic, Ryan. Hayden says she is very skillful and has worked in the Evans group’s Seattle branch. Apparently, Walter has personally requested him to send a perfect assistant to work for you. IF Hayden approved her as good, I’m positive she’ll live up to your expectations.” Liam started to convince me, keeping his tone light.
Hayden Evans, one of the most reputed business men in the world, was the heir of the Evans group. Unlike me, he had none to screw him from taking over the company after his dad. Although we were childhood friends, I wouldn’t dare to compare myself to him because he the man was nothing like me; he wasn’t temperamental and rash, but he was nothing if not in control of himself and others.
He treats his employees with kindness.
That’s what he had suggested me to do I believe, but it was easier for him to suggest that when he wasn’t thrown out of his comfort zone, into a whole new industry to prove his skill where every move he made was judged by a BOD.
A board of dipshits.
“Why am I even the CEO of this stupid fabric company?” I growled, thwacking the name plate which had my name and designation on it. My anger flared as the name plate fell on the carpeted floor. “Trust me, if she doesn’t have proper working skills, I’ll make her life living hell before terminating her.”
"Cállate, Pendejo!" Liam scoffed, spanish rolling off his tongue.
Liam Cromwell being half-hispanic and half white, seemed it very vital to honor his traditions and strongly believed in handing them down to the next generation -- if he ever decided to settle down that was. Of course, the spanish words came handy everytime he wanted to curse.
I shot him a glare. “Pendejo is dumbass. What’s the other one?”
By the way a wicked smile graced his lips, I knew he would give me a sardonic answer. “Eat a dick, Kingston.” I rolled my eyes and he sobered up quickly, frowning. “Stop judging her, you haven’t even heard of her name.”
“I don’t give a damn about her name.”
“Just shut up and let her do her work buddy. She will be here from Monday, Hayden warned you to treat her with kindness or he’ll make sure to smack your bones.” Liam said, and I rolled my eyes.
“We both know who is obsessed with boxing.” I pursed my lips before adding, “I need to work, see you later.” I looked down at the designs placed in front of me. He made a vulgar gesture as he climbed to his feet and headed towards the door. “Fuck off, Liam!”
“Have a shitty day.” Liam chuckled and walked out.
When wasn’t my day shitty?