Chapter 8: Then Let's Do It Again!

Liam Hawksford strode right past Sia Thubron, that icy cedar scent so familiar it made her scalp prickle. He carried a gust with him as he went, and Sia felt like even her soul trembled. Staring at his back, she felt as if she'd been struck by lightning. Nothing could have hit harder. How could something this unlucky happen to her? No. No way. It had to be a misunderstanding. Or maybe he just looked like him… She stood there, panicking, forcing herself to believe it. She still didn't know she'd been personally singled out by the demon king to be the translator. The executives who'd been dissatisfied with her a moment ago abruptly changed their tune. "An intern translator? What experience could she possibly have?" a general manager said, worry etched into his face. "No. We should send a senior translator with her to the President's Office." "But the president only named her," another executive countered. "If we add someone and he takes offense, who's going to shoulder the consequences?" "Exactly. The new president is hard to read," a third manager said grimly. "If we make him angry, none of us will be able to clean up that mess." Their voices stayed low and heavy, caution written into every word. Sia's head buzzed, but the phrase "new president" rang crystal clear, echoing in her mind. Her bright, lively face drained of color. "Sorry," she managed, throat tight. "May I ask… that gentleman just now, he's the company's…?" "He's Everglory Group's new president," someone told her, almost cheerful. "First day in the office. You're a lucky girl." That sentence cut off every escape route she had. "Heh… heh…" Sia let out a dumb little laugh, tears shimmering in her beautiful eyes. Lucky? More like cursed for eight lifetimes. She was just a tiny intern who hadn't even made it to her own desk. Before she could learn where anything was, a cluster of executives escorted her after Liam and delivered her straight into the President's Office. Click. The heavy redwood door shut with a crisp, delicate sound. Sia stood there, dazed. The office's dominant color was a deep sea-pine green, rich and elegant. The moment she stepped inside, the place carried a cold, aloof serenity, like moonlight filtering through pines. It sat on the top floor, with a commanding view. The curtains weren't drawn, and the bright light pouring in only sharpened the sense of height, as if the air itself grew colder the higher you climbed. Glass again. Floor-to-ceiling glass with a sweeping view… Sia brainwashed herself in silence. Coincidence. It had to be a coincidence! "Come here." The low, icy voice landed like a gavel. Sia jolted, snapping back to herself, and her gaze finally tore away from the room to the source of the sound. Behind the massive redwood desk, the President lounged in a broad chair, long legs crossed with infuriating ease. Even seated, his tall frame radiated a kingly pressure. He didn't have to do anything. Just being there felt like domination. Sia nearly suffocated under it. She forced herself to move, inching toward the desk as if walking to her own execution. Behind him, the floor-to-ceiling window threw bright light into the room. In the backlight, his sharp features looked even more carved, his brows like blades, his ink-dark eyes locked on Sia as she hovered there, timid, cowardly, and wronged all at once. "P-President…" Her voice wobbled. "Do you have documents you need translated?" She was a complete newbie. First day at work, and she'd been hauled straight into the President's Office. Her mind was in pieces. Her heart hammered so hard it felt lodged in her throat. She'd always been confident, optimistic even, but in front of that face, nothing about her was natural. She was startled and terrified. Startled because she couldn't tell if he was the man from that night. Terrified because if he was… how was she supposed to avoid him, when she was Young Mr. Yoxal's wife? She'd lost her mind. Completely. Liam watched every bit of her careful, skittish behavior. After Sia's tentative question, he didn't answer. The air grew heavier. Unease was written all over her face. She bit her soft pink lip, lashes long and curled, fluttering like a frightened fawn's. The silence stretched, too long, pressing down until even breathing felt difficult. Worse, his gaze never left her. He simply stared, saying nothing, and the weight of it pinned her in place. Sia's heartbeat skyrocketed. She felt like smoke was about to pour out of her ears. Clinging to one last shred of hope, she tried to speak again, to probe him carefully, but before she could open her mouth, Liam reached into the inside pocket of his suit and took out a banknote. A fifty. Sia froze. What was he doing…? He held it between two long fingers and tossed it onto the desktop. Then he stood. Sia remained rooted, utterly lost. "Th-This isn't… translation…?" she whispered as that suffocating presence moved closer. Breathing became a struggle. "Miss Thubron doesn't remember?" Liam's eyes darkened, his voice cutting and calm. "You said you'd pay, and I'd provide the technique. Fifty for one night. You got to use me for free, didn't you, Sia Thubron?" The last line obliterated her final defense. Oh hell. This was truly the worst luck imaginable. She had actually slept with her immediate supervisor. It was over. She was finished. "President… what are you talking about?" Sia put on an innocent face, a smile that looked more painful than tears. "I don't understand." No. Nonsense. Impossible. "Heh." Liam's laugh was cold. "So you not only used me for free, you're going to deny it afterward too." He stepped closer. That faint, chilly cedar scent curled around her nose, clean and merciless. He lifted a hand and hooked a finger under her chin, applying the slightest pressure. Her chin tipped up. Sia was forced to look at him. She tried to retreat, but her feet wouldn't move. "If you don't understand, then we'll do it again," Liam said, voice low, wicked amusement glinting in his eyes. "This place is about the same as that hotel. Maybe it'll wake your memory." Sia's face turned paper-white. Her lips parted, and even her breath stalled. Liam released her chin and reached for her waist. Heat and cold flashed across Sia's face in rapid waves. To hell with this. She was going to fight him. "Pervert!" She slapped his hand away and hurled the files in her arms at him in one furious motion. Then she spun to run. "Go ahead," Liam drawled. "And your internship certification stamp goes with it. You'll have a hard time graduating." Sia had barely turned when her entire body locked in place. That stamp decided whether she could get her diploma. If the company refused to seal her internship proof, if she failed the internship, then all her credits and grades meant nothing. "President…" She ground her teeth, turned back, and forced a smile. Even though she wanted to carve him into pieces, the gap in status left her no choice but to play nice. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." "But we really don't have any… entanglement," she insisted, doubling down. "There's no 'that night' or 'the night before.' None. You've got the wrong person." She chose to play dead to the very end. Her brows knit together, big watery eyes shining with an almost absurd innocence. Her fair face looked soft and harmless, hands pressed together as if begging, the picture of a pitiful little thing. If she denied it, he couldn't possibly prove it with a single fifty, right? Still… her heart ached a little for that fifty. It had been her last cash. Liam studied her earnest, innocent gaze. She was clearly a little fox, yet when she acted cute and obedient, it was hard to bring himself to be ruthless. "Then you really blacked out and forgot," he said lightly. "I don't mind helping Miss Thubron remember." As he spoke, his arm slid around her slender waist. He tightened his hold and pulled her in. Her soft body pressed close against him, leaving no space at all.