Chapter 4 Face to fate

Rachael woke up with a throbbing headache, feeling like her head was being struck with cymbals. "It's like there's a circus going on in my head," she muttered, her voice hoarse as she forced her eyes open.

As her vision slowly adjusted to the light, she realized she wasn't in her bedroom. The couch she was lying on felt unfamiliar, and as she sat up, she began scanning the living room around her. It was modern, with dark wooden floors, beige furniture, and minimal decor.

A strong aroma of bacon and sausages wafted through the air, and she could hear the distinct sound of a sizzling pan coming from the kitchen. Rachael tried to piece together how she ended up here.

"You're up?" a familiar voice called out from the kitchen.

Rachael blinked hard and turned toward the sound. Ethan was standing there, dressed casually in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants, flipping something in the pan.

Before Rachael could find the words, Ethan wiped his hands on a kitchen towel, picked up a plate of food, and walked over to her.

"I, um..." Rachael stammered, trying to straighten herself up on the couch. "Yeah, I'm up."

Ethan gave her a small smirk and placed the plate on the coffee table in front of her. "Breakfast."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked back to the kitchen.

Rachael's head spun. She couldn't remember much of what happened after the parking lot incident. Flashes of the night came in fragments. She pressed her palm to her forehead, groaning.

"If you're wondering why you're on the couch and not in a bed, it's because you kept threatening to scream if I carried you upstairs." Ethan said from the kitchen.

Her eyes widened, mortified. She bit her lower lip and gave herself a few light smacks on the forehead. "You fool, why'd you drink so much?" she whispered to herself.

Ethan reappeared with a mug in his hand. "Here," he said, offering it to her. "It's green tea. Helps flush out the rest of the alcohol in your system."

Rachael hesitated before taking the mug from him. She avoided eye contact, embarrassed. "Thank you," she murmured, taking a cautious sip.

Ethan lingered for a moment

Rachael peeked up at him, her cheeks burning. "Did I... say or do anything... crazy?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow, feigning thoughtfulness. "Well, let's see. Other than throwing up in my car, screaming at a stray cat, threatening to call the police on me, and biting me twice? Nah, nothing crazy at all."

"shit" she whispered, burying her face in her hand, hitting her forehead again.

Ethan shook his head, amused. "You're just going to make your headache worse doing that." He walked back to the kitchen, leaving Rachael to stew in her embarrassment.

She glanced at the plate of food on the table. It looked delicious, but her stomach was still queasy.

After a few minutes of silence, she finally asked, "How did you... find me?"

Ethan's voice came from the kitchen. "I just happened to be there," he said simply.

That wasn't much of an answer, but Rachael decided not to push. Her head still felt like it was floating.

"Um... my clothes?" she asked hesitantly.

"They're in the dryer," Ethan called back. "You threw up on them, so I had to clean them."

Rachael sighed and set the mug down. "Thank you," she said softly. "... I'm sorry for all the trouble."

Ethan came back into the living room, carrying his own plate of food. He sat down on the armchair by the couch. "Don't mention it," he said, with a warm smile. "Looking after you wasn't trouble, Rachael. I'd do it all over again anytime."

She glanced up at him, But before she could respond, he added, "Although, it'd be nice if you didn't get this drunk again. You were scary. Damn!"

Rachael couldn't help but laugh. It was a small, awkward chuckle, but it felt good to break the tension. Ethan always had a way of making her laugh.

The laughter faded into silence, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. The air between them grew heavier, and Rachael felt her pulse quicken. She looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the handle of the mug.

"I, um... I should probably get going now," she said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, you probably have a lot of work to take care of," Ethan replied, his gaze lingering on her.

He stood up and disappeared into another room. He returned with her clothes. "They're clean and dry," he said, handing them to her.

Ethan offered to drive her home, but she politely declined, insisting she'd take the bus.

When she finally got home, she collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. "What a disaster," After a few minutes, she sat up and grabbed her phone, She called her closest friend, Daisy and insisted they meet at a coffee shop. She needed somebody to talk to.

Over lattes and muffins, Rachael spilled everything.

"Let me get this straight," Daisy said, struggling to keep up. "Your car broke down, you found your CEO having sex in what you thought was your car, and then you got drunk and made Ethan look after you?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Rachael said, burying her face in her hands.

Daisy leaned back, shaking her head. "You need to write a book about your life. This stuff is gold."

Rachael groaned. "It's not funny. I'm probably going to get fired. My CEO and his girlfriend definitely hates me now, and I just made things weirder with Ethan."

Her friend reached across the table and patted her hand. "Look, Just take it one step at a time, figure the rest out later."

Rachael nodded, though she didn't feel reassured. Monday felt like a storm waiting to happen.

When Rachael arrived at her desk on Monday morning, her heart was pounding so hard it drowned out every other noise in the bustling office. For now, no one seemed to be talking about the parking lot fiasco, which gave her a small sense of relief.

"Money fixes everything," she muttered under her breath as she sat at her desk.

She sank into her chair and turned on her computer, trying to focus on work. But her mind kept wandering. Had someone already reported her to HR? Would the company sue her, where would she get the money, her mother is already a handful

Rachael Exhaled shakily

Just as she picked up the first document to start working, two women approached her desk. One was Claudia, holding a smug expression, and the other was a tall, intimidating woman in a sleek black suit. Her posture screamed authority, and the way she glanced at Rachael made her stomach twist.

"Let's go," Claudia said curtly.

Rachael frowned. "Go where?"

The woman in the suit cut in, her voice clipped. "You'll find out soon enough. Get up."

Rachael's heart was racing. She caught Claudia smirking out of the corner of her eye, which only made her more uneasy.

She stood up and let out a deep sigh

Claudia turns to face the rest of the department

"This is what happens when you don't know how to separate work from relationship"

Claudia wanted to embarrass rachael.

Rachael wasn't surprised that she was getting sacked

She was surprised that she was getting fired for the peter situation and not the parking lot drama

The two women escorted her out the department , through the elevator, and there claudia asked for Rachael's tag, but the other woman stopped her "when he's done, then you can go ahead, you're dismissed."

Claudia turned around and left. while the woman escorted rachael through the back hallway into what seemed to be a private elevator at the far end of the building, It looked pristine, almost untouched, with polished silver doors that reflected their images like a mirror. As the doors slid open, Rachael hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.

The elevator ride was silent, but tension crackled in the air. When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, she was greeted by a floor she didn't even know existed.

The air was noticeably cooler, scented faintly with a mix of sandalwood and vanilla. The floor beneath her was black marble that shimmered faintly under the warm, golden lights. The walls were lined with intricate panels of dark wood, and abstract artwork hung elegantly, It felt like stepping into a luxury hotel.

"This way," the woman in the suit instructed, walking briskly down a wide hallway.

Rachael followed, her heels clicking softly against the marble. She passed glass doors revealing opulent meeting rooms with sleek leather chairs and high-tech screens. A grand chandelier hung in the distance, casting a soft, golden glow over everything.

They stopped in front of a massive double door, and the woman made a quick phone call. "Sir, she's here now. May I send her in?"

Rachael's heart sank.

When the woman opened the door, Rachael stepped into an office, Behind the massive desk sat Deevin, his sharp features Bland as he watched her enter.

"You can leave us," he said to the woman without breaking his gaze from Rachael.

The door clicked shut behind her, letting her know they were alone.

Deevin leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against the surface of his desk.

He narrowed his eyes on rachael, carefully analyzing her from head to toe.

Deevin tilted his head a little to the left, still carefully analyzing every inch of Rachael's body, like an animal observing it's prey.

"Too bad"

he finally spoke, His voice Calm, His face expressionless, fiddling with his pen without breaking eye contact.

Deevin stood slowly, the chair creaking softly as he pushed it back. He moved around the desk, his steps deliberate and calculated. Rachael's pulse quickened with each step he took.

He stopped a few feet away from her, his piercing gaze locking onto hers.

"You've had quite an eventful weekend, haven't you?"

"I-I can explain-"

"Explain?" Deevin interrupted, his tone like velvet. He stepped closer, his towering presence making her feel impossibly small.

"It wasn't intentional," she said, her voice trembling.

"Intentional or not, It happened" Deevin Spoke, his voice low but full of menace. He stopped in front of her, his face mere inches from hers.

Rachael's breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him, even as fear coiled tightly in her stomach.

Deevin tilted his head slightly, studying her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. His hand moved, and for a moment, she thought he was going to touch her face. Instead, he reached past her, grabbing the edge of the desk behind her. The sudden movement made her flinch, and he smirked at her reaction.

"You're trembling," he said softly, almost mockingly.

"Why? "

"Are you afraid of me, Rachael?"

She bit her lower lip, refusing to answer.

Deevin leaned in even closer, his breath warm against her ear. "You shouldn't be, Not yet."

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she clenched her fists.

There was a knock at the door, breaking the tension. Deevin straightened, his expression hardening as he called out,

"Come in."

The door opened, and a man stepped in. "Sir, you're needed in the boardroom"

Deevin glanced at Rachael one last time, his eyes lingering on her as if memorizing every detail.

"you're much more appealing, when you aren't speaking". He smirks at Rachael, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the office, her legs threatening to give out beneath her.