Beneath the contract

POV: Susan Blake.

"The moment Raymond slammed the office door shut, I knew I wasn't walking out of here the same woman."

"Not again!" Raymond screamed from his office. "Where is this girl?"

The slam of his door echoed like a gunshot, rattling the glass frames on the wall.

"I am right here sir." I didn't flinch.

"You know this office is where it is right now because of your incessant misconducts," he said, with the next followed by his palm imprint on my cheeks.

I fell to the ground, as I tried to hold the dam of tears that threatened to burst, not because I wasn't scared to show him my weakness. But I'd learned long ago that showing fear in front of Raymond Miller was like bleeding in front of a shark.

He paced behind my desk like a caged lion, tie loosened, rage bubbling just beneath his well-tailored surface.

"Do you know how many times I've over-looked the countless of misconducts you had done, Susan?" he barked, slamming his fist against the mahogany table. "Wait. Come to think of it. I suspect something fishy."

"What is it sir," I asked, my palm rested on my crimson cheek.

"I suspect you're secretly working with my enemies to bring my empire down."

"That's not true, Sir Raymond," I tried to keep my voice steady. "There wasn't a mess. I followed due protocol on the project sir."

"You call your carelessness, protocol," his voice in rage as he stepped forward, "Our last client just pulled out one of the biggest deal we have ever gotten, and you call that protocol?"

"No," I admitted, "But Sir. Sir...." I stuttered.

"Sir what!' he yelled "What do you think you have to say." He bent, gripping my jaws with his strong fist.

I struggled to talk, "Speak. Speak, before I rip out your throat."

"I think the client pulled out because you insulted his assistant-"

"Wow! The bad egg advices me," he nods, tightening his grip on my jaw. "I didn't ask for commentary from a charity case with a secretary's paycheck and a face barely fit for the front desk."

His words sliced deeper than I expected. I shouldn't have reacted-I knew better-but my fingers clenched around the file I was holding.

This was the fifth time this week. I had swallowed the insults, the impossible deadlines, the leering looks. Every day I came to work praying I'd earn just enough to keep the lights on, maybe even buy proper groceries. Every night I left wondering if I had lost one more piece of myself.

But this time... this time something in me cracked.

"I've worked late every night for two months," I said, trying to keep my voice low. "I picked up the Slack for Carl when he got drunk before the board meeting. I rewrote the proposal you wasted. If I'm not good enough, then let me off."

Silence fell like a dropped curtain.

Raymond's gaze narrowed. "Very well then, since is what you want. Then you're......."

I intercepted his words, not wanting him to finish his statement, "No, Sir. That was a slip of the tongue."

I whispered in a broken tune, "I just want to be treated like a human being."

"Then you'd better start acting like one who knows her place." He spat.

"Yes sir."

"And for your notice, work now starts by 6am, and ends by 9pm. No questions. Any question and you're fired," his voice was steady.

This wasn't the time for the other workers. It was for me and me alone. I was left in dilemma-Work 15hours daily for 7 days a week and clear my bills or go back to the hungry street where I came from.

My place.

That phrase followed me like a shadow even as I walked home through streets slick with last night's rain. My place was a one-room apartment, where the heat barely worked, and the ceiling threatened to collapse every time it rained.

I unlocked my door to a pile of unopened bills and a final eviction notice pinned to the frame from my landlord.

Four days. I had four days to find a miracle.

I sank onto the couch and pulled my knees to my chest. My fingers trembled as I reached for the picture of my parents on the side table.

Mom's smile was soft and eternal. Dad's arm wrapped around her like the world wasn't crashing just outside the frame causing tears to stream down my cheeks.

They died five years ago. A freak accident. A truck, a rainy road, a curve that came too fast.

I remembered screaming in the hospital waiting room. The feeling of cold white walls and colder hands telling me they didn't make it.

And then nothing.

No one to call. No money. No mercy.

Just me, a scholarship that barely covered tuition, and the raw ache of being truly and completely alone.

*********

"Jezz!!" I screamed, jumping up from my torn bed as I saw the time. It was 6:45am. "I should go and take my sack letter then."

I reached the office, but what greeted me was something I expected and off. All eyes from work mates rested on me as though I had stolen a major deal from the company.

Only then did the murmurs start.

"Mr. Raymond won't certainly show her mercy."

"Poor thing who chooses laziness over success."

"Who would want a child as this. She should be fired."

I ran to my office, when I caught sight of an eerie envelope on my table. The logo stamped across the seal made my pulse jump.

Henderson Enterprises.

Raymond's latest obsession. Rumor had it he was pitching a multi-million-dollar merger deal to them. A deal he'd do anything-or use anyone-to land.

Inside the envelope was a sleek itinerary and a printed brief.

Apparently, I had been assigned to represent Miller & Co. at today's meeting with Mark Henderson's executive team.

I blinked. Me?

He never let me speak at meetings. I was a background noise to him. A pair of legs and typing hands.

So why now?

I didn't have to wait long to find out.

The telephone on my desk rang. It was Raymond, "I need you in my office right now,"

"Alright sir, I will be there in a minute."

I opened the large office door of the CEO Raymond Miller. My eyes rested on him as he sat behind his very large office table, his face unreadable. But I could sense something cold and off.

"You sent for me, sir."

"I will pardon you for coming late to work today, but if only you abide my rules."

"What rules, sir?" I asked in confusion. "Do you mean the one on the letter?"

"Yes of course!" he yelled, "Don't stress me, young lady."

"You're going to do exactly as I say in that meeting," he said, sitting leisurely behind his desk.

"And if they ask questions?" I asked carefully.

"You'll nod, smile, and defer to me. Got it?"

I nodded slowly.

"Good," he said, then leaned forward. "Because if you don't..."

He opened a drawer and pulled out a manila folder, sliding it across the table like a game of Russian roulette.

My fingers hesitated before lifting the cover.

It took me less than ten seconds to understand.

The file contained forged transaction records-bank statements showing thousands in company funds funneled into an account with my name on it.

"But this isn't true."

"It doesn't have to be true," Raymond cut in, smiling wider. "But who's going to believe the orphaned assistant with two late rent notices and a history of anxiety?"

My throat went dry.

"This is a crime-"

"Only if it's reported." He leaned back, folding his hands. "Cooperate today, and this file disappears. You'll even get a bonus. Maybe a recommendation letter, just if you keep pushing boundaries..." He shrugged.

My hands were shaking. "You'd frame me?" I whispered.

His voice turned ice-cold. "Don't make it look like evil. Just follow instructions, and you will be fine."

I rose, spine straight despite the tremble in my limbs.

He stood too.

I turned to leave, ready to fall apart somewhere private.

Then-

Click.

The lock turned behind me.

I froze. "What is it?"

Raymond stepped around the desk and tossed another document onto the table.

"I said one word to anyone..." he said, voice a low growl, "...and you'll be dead before sunrise."