Chapter 4 INCOMPETENCE AT ITS FINEST

RHYS' POV

Thoughts of all the things that happened yesterday, coupled with the impotency of my sleeping meds, made last night one of the longest and most exhausting nights I've ever had.

Unable to fall asleep initially due to the noise the cleaning people made downstairs, despite my walls being soundproof, images of Denova kept popping up in my mind, making it impossible for me to get any sleep afterwards. I was sure I had seen her before, but I just couldn't remember where.

I tried to think of a solution to my model problem, but she was like an earworm; her smile and red hair so familiar, yet so unrecognizable. I knew not remembering her was going to add to the ever increasing pile of things I have to worry about.

Contrary to what my step brother said, he came back home, although he seemed a little tamer than when he left. No crazy raggers, no outcast friends, no excessive drinking, just plain old boring Russell Dillon. Sorry. Russell Bentorhys-Ciaga. I must admit, seeing him this calm and contained put me on edge, but I was too worried about work to focus on his proper behavior.

"I hope you are going to the café today" I asked him on my way out. He was having breakfast in the living room, one habit I see he can't get rid off no matter how many times I emphasize the importance of a dining area. "You missed your shifts last week."

"I see you're keeping tabs on me. Careful brother, I may mistake your creepy stalker -like behavior for affection. We can't have me thinking you actually love me, now, can we?" I ignored his poorly constructed tease and found my way out of my house. Denova was waiting for me in the driveway like she has these past few days she's been my driver.

"I have an important client coming in later today and I need you to pick her up from the airport."

Denova made a disgruntled sound at the back of her throat.

"Now I'm driving other people?" She sounded really distressed by the idea of having to drive around more people besides me. I was enjoying her distress; she looked quite funny when her face was all red from being angry or upset. "I have a question Mr. Reese sir, am I getting paid for this job?"

Safe to say she always said the most ridiculous things you've ever heard.

"Are you going to pay for my damaged car?" When she didn't respond, I nodded and said, "Exactly," which she responded to by rolling her eyes and grunting.

I was in an online meeting with the heads of my PR and media team, and they both kept telling me the same thing I didn't want to hear that moment; all the high end female models were already taken, including actresses, and there was no way we were going to use no-name celebrities to be ambassadors for our new clothing line.

My father has been sending me texts since yesterday, and he called me twice this morning, but I was in no mood to listen to Mr. Jericho Bentorhys-Ciaga nag and criticize my ability to lead. I already got jabbed at by my stupid cousin yesterday, no need to add his harsh words to it.

We arrived at the hospital and all thoughts concerning Bentorhys-Ciaga flew out of my mind, with only the image of the person that lay on the hospital bed left in it.

Miguel was my best friend, although not many people knew that. He has been working for my family since we were both in college, with him being the son of our gardener, and when I finally became CEO, I decided to make him my driver/assistant. He was one of the strongest and most reliable people I knew, and seeing him like that, so weak and vulnerable, made me so sad and angry at the same time.

His doctor came Into the room and I asked Denova to step outside for a moment.

"He's still unconscious. I'm not sure when he's going to wake up though. The swelling in his head has reduced which is good news, but he's still unable to breathe on his own."

As his doctor went on about what was wrong with him and the treatment that was required, I couldn't help but wonder what I'll do to the person who did this when I eventually found them.

I was to go to the police station to take a look at what they had found, but with the current crisis at work, that visit was going to have to wait.

After seeing Miguel's doctor, Denova and I headed to the car and started our journey to HQ.

My temporary assistant welcomed me with the first bad news of the day when I walked out of the elevator on the 8th floor that led to my office.

"Your father's back. Flew in this morning and is requesting a meeting ASAP."

"Shit," I cursed loudly, crumpling up my face in distaste at the news. I don't know why that old man even cares so much about this; it's not his jurisdiction for crying out loud.

"More bad news?" I asked as he handed me a file jacket. I was settled in my seat and scanning the document in record time. The content was very displeasing.

"Claremont called. They want to move our store to the back of the mall, top floor."

Sons of b-

"Why? I'm pretty sure we made more in sales than the other stores combined. What does Patricia want?" I said and tossed the file aside. A cloud was forming in my mind already; I did not take my meds this morning. I can't afford to be angry.

Patricia Grayson was the CEO of Claremont department store and my ex girlfriend. I didn't think she was petty, especially since we broke up over seven years ago, but with the way things were going, I wouldn't put it passed her to be in some kind of deal with my stupid cousin Malcolm. He seems to be targeting the females that were of some kind of value to me.

Just like I thought, Malcolm did have something to do with it and Jerome confirmed it. "I asked one of my guys at the store and he said Malcolm visited early this morning. He doesn't know what they talked about, of course, but he left with a huge smile on his face and from this memo we received, it doesn't take a genius to piece it all together."

"And if we don't agree, she's not going to renew our contract, right?" he nodded. "Well, let her. Don't let her make all the decisions though; the ones that we can change should be changed. Whatever else she wants give it to her."

For a BC product to not be in one of the stores owned by CBC? Is that even possible?

"She's going to have to explain why though at the bi-monthly meeting we have with Carlisle himself. Have the papers reviewed and signed by our lawyers."

I handed the file jacket back to Jerome and watched as he left.

Work went on as usual, with thoughts of Denova crawling in from time to time. By lunch time, I was convinced I had a tumor.

Her entire feature was so vivid in my mind; acts that she hasn't committed yet, like crying till her face was blotted and looking so scared and helpless she wanted to die, were so clear in my head and it troubled me a whole lot.

Why can't I remember her?

It was time for my meeting, but Denova still hadn't called yet. She was supposed to pick up a model that flew in from Russia to be Candice's replacement as our brand ambassador. Her flight landed by 1:30pm, so she should have been here by now.

I called Denova multiple times but there was no response. Somehow, I had a bad feeling about this.

"Jerome, have you heard any news from Yelena Nikolay? She's supposed to be here by now."

"That's what I came here to talk to you about. Apparently Yelena arrived an hour ago but there was no one to receive her at the airport so she left. Angry. She doesn't want to do business with us anymore."

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!!!!!

Where the goddamn hell was Denova Michaelson!?

My tie was loosened and tossed aside and my jacket was discarded. I needed space to think, to not explode and to be rational and calm.

My airway was tightened by the anger that I tried desperately hard to swallow, making it hard for me to breathe. It was hard to get Yelena on board in such short notice but we managed to convince her and her manager that all will be well. Abandoning her at the airport in a foreign country is not all being well!

"Jerome, call Denova again."

He was on it ASAP, but after a while he shook his head at me regrettably.

My hair was a complete mess now from how many times I ran my fingers through it. I ordered Jerome out and told him to call Yelena's agency and see what we can do to make them change their minds. Then I went about pacing my office, thinking of ways to make Denova pay for this loss.

She better have a good reason for not picking her up or I swear to God...

My office doors opened and in came Denova, all limbs intact, face looking normal without a scratch, fingers working just fine. She even had the audacity to grin!

"Hey boss. Is it weird that I'm just finding out that you're the CEO of Bentorhys-Ciaga? I've been calling you R-E-E-S-E this whole time. Damn! Anyways, you will never believe what just happened..."

It was getting clearer with each passing second that Denova was not in her right senses. Why else will she be laughing and talking animatedly in a situation like this?

"Is this amusing to you?" I asked in a very low tone – my attempt to not sound as angry as I felt. It didn't work though; Denova stiffened and the smile on her face melted away.

"I mean, I guess getting your name wrong wasn't cool..." she trailed off when the look on my face went from forced calm to obvious rage. The overwhelming urge to snap her neck in two!

"Where the hell were you?" I snapped, startling her out of her wits. That scared and helpless expression that had replayed itself in my memory was applied on her face and it felt like déjà vu. "Why didn't you pick up Yelena from the airport like I asked you to?"

I felt my veins about to pop out of my body and held back a little. There was no need for me to end up in the hospital because of Denova...

"I sent you a message earlier saying I couldn't do it because something came up..."

She pulled out her phone from her pocket, probably to check the so called message she sent that wasn't received by me. Her face turned ashen, convincing me that she just realized how badly she messed up.

"I forgot to hit the 'send' button."

The air in my lungs escaped and I was completely breathless.

I was livid; my eyes bulged out of my sockets like a mad man's and my hands trembled in fury. It took my whole existence to not grab the vase lying on the center table and hurl it at her scared little face!

"You forgot to hit the send button?" My tone was bitter and sarcastic, and when I took a predatory step forward, Denova took two back. "Are you an old lady suffering from intense forgetfulness that you forgot to hit the send button after typing in a message for your boss?"

"I...I'm sorry, but it wasn't my fault. There was this iss-"

"Not your fault?" I didn't know when I reached the center of my office and my hand circled around the vase filled with lilacs on the table there, throwing it with all my might towards Denova. She shrieked in terror and jumped out of the way just before the vase could hit her. It shattered on the wall behind her, sending its pieces flying to all corners.

"I just lost the only available person because of you and now my brand's about to settle for a no namer and you're telling me it's not your fault? Whose, pray tell, is it then?"

She was in shock at the attempted ending of her life with a ten thousand dollar flower vase and so she remained frozen on the floor where she was crouched, her hand over her ears probably protecting it from shrapnel, while her eyes searched mine for a hint of humanity.

Slowly, she rose from her rest position, her legs threatening to give way, but her rage willing her to stand firm. Brown eyes turned green and poisonous and if I wasn't angry myself, I would have backed down a bit from how intense her glare was.

"Don't you care to know what happened to me at all?" She spoke calmly, yet there was a hint of roughness and spite to it that suggested she felt far from calm.

"I can assure you Denova I do not care two shits about what happened to you."

She scoffed, tears forming in her eyes to produce a red tint around her eyeballs. She bit her bottom lip to hold the tears back in while swallowing hard to keep the lump in her throat from rising up.

"Fine then." She rummaged through her little purse and tossed me my car key. "Have fun driving yourself when you have online meetings to attend to."

"You may have forgotten the reason why you became my driver in the first place."

I hated her audacity. The way she smiled sardonically irked me.

"I assure you I have not forgotten." Before I knew it, I was being attacked by a flying metal of some sort. I had no idea when she reached for it or what the object was, but I know it was heavy and it caused a tiny crack in my head the moment it came in contact with my skin. I started to bleed.

"You can send your medical bill alongside the bill for the car. Have a very terrible day Rhys. I hope that scars."

I couldn't contain my anger anymore. My office was decorated with a lot of breakables and I used them to calm myself down. From my desk to the shelves and cabinets, everything that could move was displaced in an inappropriate fashion.

By the time I had completely messed up my office, my hair was falling loosely around my face and shoulders, sticking to my neck and forehead that were covered in sweat, and the air in my lungs was completely dissipated.

My office doors opened up again, and I was tempted to yell at whoever it was that dared to come in without my permission. That plan however fell through the moment I laid eyes on my father's blue ones.

"Doing a little bit of redecorating I see," he said, looking around as he gingerly walked into my office.

"Ignore me all you want Christian, but I'll still find a way. I always do." His deep, raspy voice sent a shiver down my spine. Whenever he talked like that, he always had something he was hiding from me – something that I wouldn't approve of.

"I wasn't ignoring you, father. I just had a lot to do."

I tried to adjust my suit and my hair, but they just seemed unwilling to cooperate with me.

I approached him carefully, making sure to retain eye contact with him. It wasn't possible to read his mind through that; his was impenetrable.

"I know, and that's why I have taken the liberty to help fix your problem for you. Come in."

My eyes moved above him towards the door at my second visitor. As soon as I saw her, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of my lungs.

She still looked the same: brown straight hair that cascaded down her back, blue eyes that looked like the ocean in the summer, the prettiest smile that ever belonged to anyone. At least that's what people say about her.

I knew otherwise though. It was all fake. Every last thing about her. Especially her heart.

"Hello Christian," she said with that voice that had come to give me chills and nightmares. "Long time no see."