Page 81 of Hate to Love You

The pen I’m chewing on cracks in my mouth, the ink leaking out onto my tongue, the taste making me grimace.

Damnit.

I close my monitor and head over to the bathroom. As I walk through the corridor, his men step out of my way, their eyes downcast to the ground.

I’m not going to lie; I really enjoy the confidence that being around Roman gives me. It makes sense to me now how rich, powerful men can become drunk on this feeling. This high is electrifying, awaking parts of my soul I had forgotten existed.

Shaking my head, I fight against the desire to let that power consume me too. Normally, it wouldn’t be an issue, but this feels different, almost addictive.

The first time I actually felt it was when Polina arrived, I knew I should have stayed out of her way, yet there I was, pushing back. And enjoying my little power trip.

Usually, I never see the wife, or victim of someone I put down. I deliberately try to stay as far away as possible to avoid any suspicion.

But the moment Polina walked onto our floor, I couldn’t stop myself.

I stare at myself in the mirror, my emotions swirling.

I keep to a strict code, I don’t kill unnecessarily, and while the argument could be made that this is necessary, in my heart, I know that it’s not. The only reason I have to kill Oleg would be for self-preservation.

With each second that passes, I gradually watch my eyes darken, as I continue to play God with Oleg’s life, as judge, jury and executioner. It’s usually a clean-cut case, the man’s a monster, he’s guilty, and I’m justified in putting him down.

He might be guilty of something, as everyone always is. But as it stands right now, he isn’t guilty of the crime I usually punish.

But…he did recognize me. And even if I successfully managed to deflect it once, it doesn’t mean he couldn’t reiterate those concerns to Roman…or worse, Polina.

He’s a liability.

It’s too much of a risk to stay here, knowing that any day, any one of them could discover me.

Then again, I could always eliminate myself from the equation, and hand in my notice, even if that means sacrificing my proximity to Roman…and power.

Bending down, I swirl my mouth out under the tap, rinsing the ink from my tongue.

“Fuck,” I mutter, my decision made.

Folding the letter into an envelope, I place it in the top drawer of my desk. For some reason, I just can’t find it in myself to walk this straight into Roman’s office and hand it to him.

Although, it’s not like I could right now, as he stormed out of here so fast that it nearly gave me whiplash.

So, I’ve decided to just wait until the end of the day and leave it on my desk for him to find in the morning.

A shiver runs down my spine.

Since I started on this floor, I’ve noticed that each day I come in, it’s almost colder than the previous day. And yeah, the weather is changing outside, due to the season. But it’s not even this cold outside.

Almost as if someone has deliberately lowered the temperature.

The ding of the elevator echoes loudly through the quiet floor, and I can feel Roman’s presence before I see him. Since he stormed out of here, the floor has been eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the AC as it clicks on and off.

Raw energy vibrates through the floor, an energy that is off balance, and chaotic. The hair on my arms stands, as a wave of goosebumps coats my skin.

Roman rounds the corner, a man basically running behind him to keep up with his strides.

Swallowing, I cast my eyes from him, as I fight against that unknown force that keeps pulling me toward him.

Without hesitating I grab a notebook, and flip it open, pretending to be busy before his furious attention is aimed my way.

Suddenly, the executive floor is now flooded with gigantic grumbling and thundering men, who materialize from the elevator, the stairwell, and practically out of thin air.