BOUND TO THE BILLIONAIRE

If there's a cult where people are gathering to curse their bosses into the most terrible life ever, I want to sign up. It's been exactly six weeks, four days, three hours and six minutes since I started working as Mr. Coffee bastard's secretary. Two weeks since my embarrassing failure to show and prove my level of importance where I had a tryst with the floor in front of my annoyingly handsome boss. No. Wait. Scratch that. The issue now is, I think I'll resign on my own. Coffee bastard has won the game. I refuse to play any more games with a petty nepo baby. I'm too broke for that. And I mean it literally too. From running to the printer to get new documents, to typing, setting appointments and trying to learn Mr. Coffee bastard preferences, my feet grow fresh set of blisters everyday. "Good afternoon." I look up to see someone approach me. His confident swagger into the office like he owns it makes me frown. I frown a little, why didn't the lower level receptionist inform me that someone was coming to see Coffee bastard? Or even better still, why didn't security stop this handsome-ness since Coffee bastard does not have any more meetings today?. Thankfully. "How may I help you?" I ask, giving a professional smile. Also would it be unprofessional to stare with a gaping mouth? Because that's what my brain's telling me to do. This man's got a drool- worthy face. While he didn't have the conservative, beastly and arrogant charm that Xavier wore like a second skin, this blue-eyed man was better looking than most models. "Is Xavier in?" he asks, giving me a disarming smile. Goodness. Celebrities should be grateful this man is not in the same industry as they are. This type of face would rival most of their's without breaking a sweat. Ice blue eyes stare at me, his lips tilted upward in an almost-have smile. His blonde hair sits on top of his head in a messy mop, the veins on his hand prominent for all to see. "Do you intend to see Mr. Steele?" I ask, enforcing a stricter professional tone. "I was in the neighbourhood, so I decided to say hi to that idiot." he laughs gently, playing with the pencil on my desk. We agree on the same thing! That Xavier Steele is an idiot! I like this man. Unfortunately, I have to do my job. Pinching my self on my thigh to prevent myself from smiling, I say, "You have no appointment with Mr. Steele." "I'll just pop my head in for a few minutes." I roll my eyes inwardly. Are all handsome greek gods blockheads? "Mr. Steele is not in." I say firmly. "Xavier's not in?" "Mr. Steele is not in the office. Do you mind coming another time?" I ask, clearing my throat. "I'll wait for him in his office." he says and walks past my desk towards Xavier's office. What the-- I race after him, turning around him to stand in front of him with my arms widespread. "Do not let me call security on you sir!." I say firmly. Mr. Newcomer scoffs pushing me lightly and opens the large oak door encompassing the entrance to Xavier's office strolling in. Shit. Coffee bastard is going to have another reason to pour hot coals on me. I follow hot on handsome but rude man heels, "I'm sorry Mr. Steele. He pushed his way in." I say looking at my boss who stands up from his desk to exchange a handshake with the newcomer. "Don't sweat it. He's allowed to come in without an appointment." Coffee bastard says. "Oh." "This is Alexander Dunn." Coffee bastard quirks an eyebrow at me. "Of the Dunn Industries?" My eyes widen. "Guilty as charged, love." Mr. Newcomer winks at me, the corner of his lip in an upward mocking tilt, a light British accent noticeable. I bristle, standing straight, "Noted Mr. Steele. Any other person that has the same privilege as Mr. Dunn?" "None." "Rachel?" Mr. Newcomer tilts his head towards Coffee bastard grinning evidently. "Just this idiot." Coffee bastard ignores newcomer question. I guess they must be close, seeing as their pet names for each other seems to be the word 'idiot'. I can't imagine calling Sloane idiot or her calling me that, honestly. We'd argue and quarrel all night. "Would you like to have coffee or tea?" I ask. "Screw it if you don't have alcohol." Mr. Newcomer waves me away. "It's alright Hazel." My boss says, going to sit opposite his friend on the couch. "Noted sir." I say and walk out of the office, my ears burning with anger mixed with embarrassment. Are all nepo babies brought up to insult we bottom ladders? Or is it only open to those as handsome greek gods? If there's a cult where people are gathering to curse their bosses into the most terrible life ever, I want to sign up. It's been exactly six weeks, four days, three hours and six minutes since I started working as Mr. Coffee bastard's secretary. Two weeks since my embarrassing failure to show and prove my level of importance where I had a tryst with the floor in front of my annoyingly handsome boss. No. Wait. Scratch that. The issue now is, I think I'll resign on my own. Coffee bastard has won the game. I refuse to play any more games with a petty nepo baby. I'm too broke for that. And I mean it literally too. From running to the printer to get new documents, to typing, setting appointments and trying to learn Mr. Coffee bastard preferences, my feet grow fresh set of blisters everyday. "Good afternoon." I look up to see someone approach me. His confident swagger into the office like he owns it makes me frown. I frown a little, why didn't the lower level receptionist inform me that someone was coming to see Coffee bastard? Or even better still, why didn't security stop this handsome-ness since Coffee bastard does not have any more meetings today?. Thankfully. "How may I help you?" I ask, giving a professional smile. Also would it be unprofessional to stare with a gaping mouth? Because that's what my brain's telling me to do. This man's got a drool- worthy face. While he didn't have the conservative, beastly and arrogant charm that Xavier wore like a second skin, this blue-eyed man was better looking than most models. "Is Xavier in?" he asks, giving me a disarming smile. Goodness. Celebrities should be grateful this man is not in the same industry as they are. This type of face would rival most of their's without breaking a sweat. Ice blue eyes stare at me, his lips tilted upward in an almost-have smile. His blonde hair sits on top of his head in a messy mop, the veins on his hand prominent for all to see. "Do you intend to see Mr. Steele?" I ask, enforcing a stricter professional tone. "I was in the neighbourhood, so I decided to say hi to that idiot." he laughs gently, playing with the pencil on my desk. We agree on the same thing! That Xavier Steele is an idiot! I like this man. Unfortunately, I have to do my job. Pinching my self on my thigh to prevent myself from smiling, I say, "You have no appointment with Mr. Steele." "I'll just pop my head in for a few minutes." I roll my eyes inwardly. Are all handsome greek gods blockheads? "Mr. Steele is not in." I say firmly. "Xavier's not in?" "Mr. Steele is not in the office. Do you mind coming another time?" I ask, clearing my throat. "I'll wait for him in his office." he says and walks past my desk towards Xavier's office. What the-- I race after him, turning around him to stand in front of him with my arms widespread. "Do not let me call security on you sir!." I say firmly. Mr. Newcomer scoffs pushing me lightly and opens the large oak door encompassing the entrance to Xavier's office strolling in. Shit. Coffee bastard is going to have another reason to pour hot coals on me. I follow hot on handsome but rude man heels, "I'm sorry Mr. Steele. He pushed his way in." I say looking at my boss who stands up from his desk to exchange a handshake with the newcomer. "Don't sweat it. He's allowed to come in without an appointment." Coffee bastard says. "Oh." "This is Alexander Dunn." Coffee bastard quirks an eyebrow at me. "Of the Dunn Industries?" My eyes widen. "Guilty as charged, love." Mr. Newcomer winks at me, the corner of his lip in an upward mocking tilt, a light British accent noticeable. I bristle, standing straight, "Noted Mr. Steele. Any other person that has the same privilege as Mr. Dunn?" "None." "Rachel?" Mr. Newcomer tilts his head towards Coffee bastard grinning evidently. "Just this idiot." Coffee bastard ignores newcomer question. I guess they must be close, seeing as their pet names for each other seems to be the word 'idiot'. I can't imagine calling Sloane idiot or her calling me that, honestly. We'd argue and quarrel all night. "Would you like to have coffee or tea?" I ask. "Screw it if you don't have alcohol." Mr. Newcomer waves me away. "It's alright Hazel." My boss says, going to sit opposite his friend on the couch. "Noted sir." I say and walk out of the office, my ears burning with anger mixed with embarrassment. Are all nepo babies brought up to insult we bottom ladders? Or is it only open to those as handsome greek gods?