Forbidden Deception (Deception)

4

L ife oftentimes feels bleak.

Expecting every day to be an adventure, every day to be different from the last, is delusional and having those thoughts is for people who want to hope for more.

While I didn’t say I don’t hope for more out of this life, it doesn’t mean that I am an emotionless motherfucker who doesn’t give a shit about anything.

In fact, I feel very deeply. I feel, feel, and feel to the point where those emotions are on the brink of destroying me. I have the time and capacity for dreams, aspirations, and hope. I want to make my vision of my empire a reality.

Running my father’s real estate company has provided me with the dream I need, but every day feels so much dimmer than the previous one. And yet, still, to this day, finding myself worthy enough of this success hits me in the gut.

Which is why I find entertainment in the destruction of others.

Finding a worthy opponent is hard. So when I discovered an interesting piece of information from my contacts, it made me feel giddy, like a goddamn child. Many have sought me out to beg for the long life of their reputation and business whenever a scandal his the news, I know how to control the media and twist every narrative in my favour.

Gustav Media just so happens to give me that leverage.

Remo Cainn is a powerhouse, and to hold a string in my hand that can cut that power within a few seconds has me on the edge of my seat. I fully expect retaliation in the form of my life being destroyed by Remo Cainn. In the meantime, I’ve found a little rabbit who hops around me, a little too often, a little too close.

I mask all emotions when she is around me just to see how she reacts, all while I analyse every single part of her.

Venezia Campbell is a mystery to me. I have found nothing on her so far. Her personal life is a clean slate.

Why does a boring, fashion-obsessed, talkative woman flit around me like an annoying fly so much?

I intend to find out exactly why this woman is so intent on avoiding me but also buzzing around me like a mosquito.

A couple of days ago, she got in the back of my car when I merely stopped at a red traffic light in front of my office building as soon as I left the garage. This princess hopped in the back of my car and started back-chatting and badmouthing me like it was her part-time job.

Boring?

Grumpy?

Off-putting and annoying?

Is this woman seriously such a loud-mouth that she was ranting to a random man, who she obviously thought was a hired driver, about her boss of four days?

Absolutely fucking crazy.

Who even hired her?

Okay, maybe it was me who approved her application, but it looked good. I didn’t expect her to be this much of an extrovert. How does one keep a hopping bunny still? You don’t. You kill it. In this case, I can’t kill Venezia Campbell.

How do I do tolerate her?

I give her work. Boring work. And leave her alone. No one is to engage with her or distract her.

I don’t trust her. Not a single bit.

I’ve never trusted anyone, and I am not about to start now.

With my hands in my pocket, I watch as she types furiously on her keyboard, biting her lip in concentration. The most annoying part of having Venezia as my assistant is that she finishes her work quite fast. As per her CV, she has been doing this since she left sixth form, and now four years later, she is quite experienced at working as a personal assistant.

I tilt my head, taking in her office through the one-way glass wall. I don’t trust anyone and that includes all my assistants. The glass wall is for the sanity of my mind.

She moved the desk, added small plants around the office, always keeps her curtains open.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Without looking away from the woman in front of me, I answer it.

“Hello?”

“When were you going to tell me you have a hot assistant, perfect for Eiran?”

My thoughts come to a halt, and my focus shifts from Venezia to Mikko, who is apparently in my building. I rush out of my office and find him standing to my left, in front of Venezia’s open door.

With a firm grip on Mikko’s arm, I pull him into my office.

“Hey! Watch the new suit! I only recently got it, and it’s Liya’s favourite.”

I let him go and cut the call, dropping my phone on my desk.

“Care to explain why you are here unannounced when I told you to notify me if you wanted to come in?”

Mikko, my eldest brother, stands up straight, dusting off his suit like my hands dirtied it. With a swift hand through his hair, he turns to me and grins. He’s got a wide smile, the same chestnut hair all four of us brothers have, and an edge to his face that only he and I have.

Mikko is forty years old and trying to act like cupid. He doesn’t look his age. In fact, the grey streaks in his hair only make him look a few years older, but his build is a lot heavier than mine.

“Come on. Don’t be such a buzz kill. Look who we got, you are even playing peeping tom on this poor girl. And how dare you tell me to book a meeting with you? Who do you think you are—”

The door to my office opens, and Venezia walks, huffing and puffing.

Her ponytail keeps any hair from getting into her dark mocha eyes. Her face is surprisingly free of the heavy makeup the women working here seem to favour. Venezia’s makeup seems to be on the neutral side. I’ve seen glitter on her cheeks sometimes, maybe a different coloured lipstick, but it’s never heavy.

It suits her.

She has a slim nose, sharp jaw, and mischievous eyes that hold nothing but trouble. Her full lips are often pulled into a cheeky smile, and she has a slender figure. Despite her height, she reaches just close to my shoulders.

Not that I tried raising my arm when she once stood next to me and let it hang on top of her and smirked when it reached easily.

“Have you ever heard of the concept of knocking? Don’t even worry about doing it,” I deadpan.

She smiles sheepishly and lets out a small laugh. The sound vibrates around the walls; it’s feminine and soft.

“Oh, sorry about that, but my printer broke down. Do you think you can call someone to fix it? I promise it wasn’t me! I was literally just trying to put papers in and my ring kind of fell into it?” She finishes with a sweet smile like she didn’t call me all those names last week.

She’s lucky it was a Friday, and I had the weekend to cool off, because I was ready to fire this woman.

“How is it not your fault?” I lift a brow, more interested in this story.

Spoiler alert, it probably isn’t entertaining.

Did she find out Mikko was here and ran to see why?

She clasps her hands in front of her, eyes flitting all around my office.

“Well, my ring turned out to be too big, and it fell in. That’s it. It’s no one’s fault.” She bites her lip once more, and I realise that she is either nervous or embarrassed. Her cheeks don’t tint pink, but she has other tells.

Only then does she look away from me, her attention diverting towards the man standing next to me. She smiles.

“Hi, I’m Venezia Campbell.” She extends her hand to him for a handshake.

Mikko doesn’t waste any time returning the smile and gesture.

“Mikko Gustav.”

Her eyes widen at his introduction, then she looks over at me.

Venezia, despite my abrupt rudeness and coldness, has not lost her spark at all. How is she having fun, smiling, and enjoying herself when I’m trying to make her employment a living hell? I’ll have to increase her isolation more .

Not because she’s awful or that I hate her.

She makes me curious, interested, and certainly more intrigued than ever.

Venezia has a defiant streak in her that makes me more insufferable than I want to be. She makes me want to spank her just to watch her writhe and fight for her life before I give it back to her.

Most of all, I want to play her like an instrument. To play and push every button waiting to see her snap.

Venezia’s laugh twists something my chest, and my eyes shift to Mikko laughing with her. He just said he has a brother he wants her to meet.

“Venezia, get the fuck out.”

She flinches, and her gaze snaps to me, then darts back to Mikko. Something like hurt flashes through her eyes for a second, then she’s walking out.

“Why would you say that to her? Do you not have a single brain cell inside that head of yours?” Mikko stresses.

“Why are you here, Mikko?” I shove my hands into my pockets, then face Mikko.

He scowls. “No. Fuck you for treating people like shit. I told you this wouldn’t end well if you continued, and she is your fifth assistant this month,” he grits out. “I don’t care that I work in the media industry; you real estate people are far worse. No, scratch that. You alone are worse than anyone, and that isn’t a compliment.”

“You think empires are built by being a soft, loving boss?”

“No, but they sure are built on reputation, too. One slip from any of those five assistants to the media, and you are done. So fucking apologise when you’ve fucked up, and shut up when your opinion isn’t wanted. I will bring Eiran, and let’s see how that plays out. Better yet, let me go help the poor girl out.”

He strides from my office before I can come up with a reply, and when I look over, he is helping Venezia with her printer.

What the fuck?