The Boss I Shouldn't Want, Now My Stepbrother
img img The Boss I Shouldn't Want, Now My Stepbrother img Chapter 3 003
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Chapter 3 003

Bridgette's POv

"Bridgette." A low, raspy voice shook me out of my core, mercilessly dragging me back to reality.

"I suppose you know you're staring at me like a prey you can't wait to hunt." Rhysand said, making me ruffle my hands through my hair.

"Bold of you to think that I'd even look in your way, Mr Rhysand." I muttered in a barely audible voice, but from the look on his face, he heard my statement.

"I'm still your boss, Bridgette." He said firmly, his lips stretching into smirk. " And I can fire you at my whim and want."

"You've said that so many times, Mr. CEO, and I'd be an idiot if I didn't know that cliche line of yours to the end." I cut in, staring lazily at the document I picked up.

"After this, I'll make sure the termination letter is what you get on that table of yours." He refuted, and I shrugged, getting up slowly. "If you're going to do that after this meeting, why don't I do it first? I'm quitting Mr. Rhysand." I slammed the document in my hand on the table.

Rhysand's brows furrowed, his cold demeanor faltering for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're quitting?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief, though, his tone carried a hint of amusement.

"Yes. I don't need to waste another second in this power-play circus of yours." I shot back, leaning my weight on the desk. "I've got better things to do than deal with your inflated ego, Mr. Rhysand."

His gaze darkened, and the playful smirk disappeared. "Better things to do? Like what, Bridgette? Find another boss to argue with? Or perhaps you're running from something else entirely?"

I froze for a moment, his words cutting deeper than I expected. "Not that it's any of your business," I replied curtly, grabbing my bag. "But if anyone's running, it's you, hiding behind your CEO title like it makes you untouchable."

Rhysand chuckled dryly, leaning back in his chair. "You're an interesting one, Bridgette. Always so quick to put up walls and throw punches. I wonder if you even know what you're really fighting for."

"What I'm fighting for, Mr. Rhysand, is that your ego is too inflated to see that you're in the wrong here. If you're going to throw shades, do it respectfully and to the right people." I sucked in a breath, keeping my eyes on him. "I work as I'm supposed to and I can proudly say that a significant amount of work in this company is directly from my end, so, however young I may be Mr. Rhys, accord me with the respect that I deserve."

Well, those were my final words before I slammed the door against his face.

Finding a brown bench outside my office, I settled into it and took a deep breath. My feelings would overwhelm me soon if I couldn't get a hang of all these.

I couldn't quit, I couldn't bear to, it was the only thing in my life that seemed productive.

The thought of my mother getting married and the blurry memories of what happened in the past replayed tragically in my head.

I shook my head to blink away the tears that formed in my eyes when I heard Jennie calling my name from a distance.

"Miss Bridgette, the investors are here," She said, stepping closer.

"Okay, I'll come right after you," I said as boldly as I could to avoid her seeing my situation.

"Are you okay, Miss Bridgette? Do you need anything?" She asked, stepping closer.

"No thank you, Jennie," I said, blinking back my tears as I stood up after her to the board room.

The boardroom was alive with chatter when I entered. The investors sat on one side of the long glass table, their suits impeccable, their gazes sharp.

Rhysand stood at the head, his commanding presence filling the room as he spoke with ease, effortlessly charming them.

He barely glanced my way when I entered, but I could feel the weight of his awareness.

Ignoring him, I squared my shoulders and took my seat, focusing on the stack of documents in front of me.

The presentation was about to begin, and I had no intention of letting my earlier outburst affect my performance.

"Ah, Miss Bridgette," Rhysand's voice cut through the room, smooth and deliberate. "You're just in time. Please walk us through the quarterly projections. After all, much of this success is a result of your... contributions."

His tone dripped with sarcasm, but I refused to rise to the bait. Instead, I forced a professional smile, stood, and began my presentation.

"As you can see from the data," I started, clicking through the slides, "our revenue growth this quarter is up by 17%, driven largely by the new product line's successful launch. This was achieved through targeted marketing strategies and-"

"Let's not bore our investors with the technicalities, shall we?" Rhysand interrupted, his voice light but his eyes challenging. "Just give them the highlights."

I clenched my jaw, keeping my composure. "Of course, Mr. Rhysand," I said, my voice even. "To summarize, the company's current trajectory positions us to exceed our annual targets, ensuring significant returns on investment."

A murmur of approval swept through the room, and I allowed myself a small moment of satisfaction.

Rhysand said nothing further, but his gaze lingered on me as I returned to my seat.

As the meeting progressed, I focused on the investors' questions, providing concise answers and deflecting any doubts with confidence.

By the time it was over, I felt a sense of accomplishment, though the tension between Rhysand and me hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.

When the investors left, Jennie approached me with a soft smile. "You were amazing, Miss Bridgette." She whispered.

"Thank you," I replied, trying to ignore the burning sensation of Rhysand's stare from across the room.

As I gathered my things to leave, his voice stopped me. "Bridgette, stay back for a moment."

I sighed, already bracing myself for another round of whatever game he thought we were playing. But when I turned to face him, his expression was unreadable.

"You did well today," he said simply, his voice softer than usual.

For a moment, I didn't know how to respond. "Thank you," I replied cautiously, not trusting the sudden shift in his tone.

"Don't get used to it," he added with a smirk, the momentary vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "I'm just saying this because the investors were really happy with your ideas and demanded that I thank you for the idea." He said gruffly.

I rolled my eyes and walked out, determined not to let him get under my skin any more than he already had.

            
            

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