Obsession - Love

There should be a limit to how arrogant a man can be. I swear there should be. It should be, I don't know, in the country's constitution, forbidding bosses from being so... unbearable.

You know what's worse?

I've been complaining about it for years, every day. I'm not exaggerating, I complain. Do I do anything to change it? No. It may seem like I'm lazy and don't love my own life, but that's not it. At least, it's not just that.

The truth is that I hate change. I'm terrified when it comes to the pretty ones. My anxiety-ridden brain starts creating a thousand and two hypotheses about what could go wrong if I decide to risk giving up, so I no longer have to put up with Valentin's unpalatable personality, and I always think it's never the right time to change.

Because I depend on the money.

Because it could be worse.

Because the bastard isn't that bad.

And really, Valentin Salvatore could be worse. I'm real proof that there are much worse bosses out there, but I'm not someone who can deal with strong tempers. Maybe it's because I have to put up with enough of my own. I don't have to put up with other people. I already have to put up with that. Have you ever seen me with PMS? You don't want to!

It's by saying once again that I can't kill my boss during the nights when he forces me to stay late, making me change or delay my plans, that I prepare to knock on the office of the unhappy CEO. Or as I like to call him, the door to hell.

"Excuse me, Mr. Salvatore," I say tiredly, forcing the gentle tone I always try to use in our conversations so as not to overstep the boundaries of what is acceptable for an employee in front of a superior. I said I try, but that doesn't mean I always succeed. "I'm leaving."

"I'm still here, miss. I need my secretary by the end of the day."

I count to ten, but it's no use, so I extend the count to twenty. It doesn't work. Who am I kidding? It never has. Even if I counted to a million, it wouldn't diminish the desire I always feel to throw him off the top of the skyscraper where LDrinks is located.

"I understand, sir, but it's already nine o'clock at night. It's not like I live for work, you know?" I use my most peaceful tone in the world because I don't want him to pester me now and keep me here any longer just out of spite. Believe me, Valentin can do that. "I'm always available during office hours."

"Do you have an appointment?"

My earlier refusal makes him take his eyes off the laptop and, as usual, I lose my breath for a few seconds. Come on, I said he was arrogant, not ugly. Unfortunately, the bastard is as handsome and tempting as the fallen angel himself. Not that I go around commenting on that. My mouth is a tomb when it comes to complimenting him, even if it's something as superficial as his appearance, which is his only quality.

Shit! And he knows it!

When he takes off his glasses, which he only wears to use the computer, he looks even hotter and sexier.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, tense with my increasingly impertinent thoughts about his appearance, but I can't help noticing how his small, black eyes shine, even in the low light of the room. That's how he prefers to work.

Or the way his straight black hair never seems to go in the right direction on top of his head, giving him a casual, relaxed look. Which is a waste, if you ask me because Valentin Salvatore has none of that. He's anything but. On the contrary, the forty-year-old CEO is serious, closed off, predictable and methodical.

Have I mentioned that I hate him? I don't think I have yet, have I?

"Miss Santoro?" he calls out in an impatient voice, running his large hand through his full, dark beard.

I won't go into how such a beautiful physical feature is being wasted on a person as lacking in charisma as he is, but here's my take on the matter. It's a lot of waste!

"Yes, sir," I reply succinctly, albeit belatedly, not wanting to have to explain that I have a date right now.

Valentin says nothing.

And his silence bothers me a lot.

He pulls up the sleeves of his light green shirt and tidies them calmly, without taking his eyes off me. I don't focus on his critical analysis for long, because I'm trying to be a better person and not get into another fight with him, but Mr. Fucking Salvatore isn't going to help me. When I look at his face again, I see that his eyes are focused on my feet.

"Can I help you with anything else?"

"No," I let out a sigh of relief and shook my head in agreement, turning quickly so as not to give him time to change his mind. But I'm not quick enough, or he's the unfortunate one because he immediately calls me. "Miss Santoro?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Make sure you arrive on time tomorrow and sober, please. If that's not too much to ask, of course. Don't let your date get in the way of your obligations."

I roll my eyes at his words, looking at the miserable man who is too handsome to be fair to the rest of the male population. I could argue, of course, I could. I even have an answer on the tip of my tongue about how he can stick his suggestion exactly where the sun doesn't shine, but do I? Of course, I don't. Not because I'm silly or because I don't know how to defend myself, but because I want to end my night in someone's bed to de-stress.

I'm trying to be a better person, I said. I can control myself, most of the time.

By the way, how does he know I'm going on a date? It could be any other appointment!

Anyway, I don't think much about it, I just swallow the cheeky line along with my venom and nod, giving him a fake smile and leaving his office. I pick up my things and curse at him quietly while I'm at it, not worrying if he'll hear me. It wouldn't be the first time Valentin had heard me complain about him "to someone or just to myself.

I'll never forget when he caught me calling him all sorts of names on the phone to Natasha, my best friend.

Speaking of her, I forget about my boss and leave the building replying to his last message, sent earlier, with yet another photo of Amanda, my goddaughter, the most beautiful and friendly baby in the whole world.

I send several audios praising the little one and arrange to meet Nat at some point during the rest of the week. Our weekly walk is still sacred, even after so many years of friendship, and now that she's in a different state of mind, being a wife and mother. Despite being a super-famous actress, I feel that her greatest calling is to be happy with her family. I've never seen her so radiant. She deserves it. Even more so after the shock and scare she went through recently.

Long story.