Chapter 7 WORKPLACE ACCIDENT

Pierce Landon strode into his office at exactly 8:15 a.m., his custom-made Oxford shoes clicking against the polished marble floors of Landon Enterprises.

He loosened his tie, already mentally preparing for the day's meetings. The first order of business? Coffee.

"Ms Harper!" he called out, not bothering to look up as he shuffled through the files on his desk.

The door creaked open.

But instead of the familiar click of his secretary's sensible heels, there was a softer, more deliberate tread.

A cup of coffee was placed in front of him-black, no sugar, just how he liked it.

Pierce's fingers reached for his coffee, but his eyes stared at the shoes his secretary was wearing. Flat cover shoes.

His secretary always wore heels; she knew he loved his women in heels-and since she'd started putting on heels, Pierce hadn't seen her in anything but heels.

But today told a different story. His secretary had an unfamiliar flat shoe on her legs. Slowly, he lifted his gaze.

And there she was.

Camille Owens stood before him, dressed in a sleek black pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse, her hair framing her face. A small, infuriating smile played at the corners of her lips.

"Good morning, Mr Landon," she said, her voice smooth. "Your coffee."

For a moment, Pierce just stared. Then-

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Camille tilted her head. "I'm your new secretary."

Pierce was out of his chair before she could blink. "What the hell? That can't be right!"

Camille retained her smile. She had a mission, and for her father, she refused to fail. "Of course it is. Or do you think I woke up this morning and decided to roleplay?"

Pierce scoffed. "Then you tell me, why in the world are you in my office playing secretary?"

She shrugged. "It's simple. I got hired."

Pierce ran his fingers through his hair, on the verge of going berserk. "I have a secretary, Camille. I don't believe I requested a new one."

"You definitely do need one, because if you didn't, I wouldn't be here right now," Camille responded calmly.

Pierce glared at her, pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled his secretary's number. It rang with no answer.

He glared at Camille as he tried the number over and over again, but got no reply.

Pierce marched to Camille, his eyes murderous. "What did you do?"

Camille puckered her lips. "I believe nothing. I had woken up this morning, then Ms Elizabeth informed me I would be starting a new job on the General's orders, and so-here I am." She stretched her arms wide, grinning from ear to ear. "At my new job!"

Pierce glared at her for a few seconds, before realising his hard stare was getting him nowhere. So he walked away, returning to his desk. "Well, I don't need a new secretary, so be on your way out of my office, and out the doors of my company."

Camille remained rooted to the spot. His words seemed to not affect her in any way.

"I said GET OUT! YOU'RE FIRED!!" Pierce shouted at the top of his voice, so loudly that the employees passing by his office stopped, wondering who the hell had gotten on the bad side of the CEO so early in the morning.

Camille didn't flinch. She remained unfazed. "I don't think you can do that, sir," she said respectfully, meeting his gaze steadily.

"The hell I can't!" He grabbed the phone on his desk and punched in the extension for HR.

A moment later, the Head of Human Resources, Mr Donovan, was on the line.

"Fire her," Pierce demanded. "Now."

There was a pause. Then-

"Who, sir?" the man asked wearily. This wouldn't be the first time the CEO would request this of him without bothering to go into details.

"My new secretary. I want her fired," Pierce answered without missing a beat.

Mr Donovan sighed. He knew when the General called him last night, requesting that he hire a certain lady who had zero work experience as a secretary-he would be placed in the middle of a tussle between father and son. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr Landon."

Pierce's grip tightened on the receiver. "What do you mean, you can't?"

"Your father has granted Ms Owens... uhm... what he calls 'immunity', and so, she cannot be fired without the General's explicit approval."

Pierce saw red. "I'm the CEO of this company! When I say fire someone, you do so!"

"And the General is the Chairman," Mr Donovan replied firmly. "This company answers to headquarters. There's nothing I can do."

"Do you want to be without a job, Mr Donovan?" Pierce asked lowly, his voice threatening.

Mr Donovan rolled his eyes on the other side of the line. "Forgive me if I speak rudely. Your father is the General-the man in charge of this country's affairs. I'd rather be fired than lose my head."

"Bastard!" Pierce yelled, slamming the phone down so hard the desk shook.

Camille was still standing, her insides in an uproar, while her demeanour was calm. "Sir?" she called.

Pierce turned to her sharply.

"Should I take my leave now?..." She knew she shouldn't add her next words, but she felt like giving him a little taste of his own medicine. "Or am I still fired?" She smiled, her words dripping with mockery.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" he roared. Camille bowed slightly, then exited his office, her face morphing into a full-fledged joyous one.

Once Camille left the room, Pierce immediately dialled his father's number. He didn't bother with pleasantries when his father answered the phone.

"I want her out of my office and company right this instant!"

The General's voice was calm. "A company that you don't have full authority over yet."

"Father!"

"The answer is no, son," the General responded, despite his son's raised voice.

Pierce's jaw clenched. "Does she even have any experience-"

"I'm sure she will be able to adapt."

"I don't want her here!"

"And I don't care," the General replied. "This isn't a negotiation, Pierce. She stays."

The line went dead.

Pierce exhaled sharply, his fingers curling into fists.

It was already enough that Camille Owens had interrupted his peaceful, planned-out chaotic life, but now she had invaded his workplace. What more ruckus did she intend to cause?

But one thing was certain-he wouldn't let her cause any more trouble in his life. He would get rid of Camille no matter what he had to do.

***

By mid-evening, Pierce had a meeting.

He gathered his files, ignoring Camille as she stood by the door, tablet in hand.

"You're not coming," he said flatly.

Camille arched a brow. "I'm your secretary. It's my job to follow you."

"I don't care."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

Pierce smirked. "Sit tight and look pretty." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a mocking whisper. "Just because my father forced you in here doesn't mean I will accept you."

He moved backwards, gazing into her eyes. "I promised you hell, Camille. And I promise to act on that promise soon." He flashed her a smile. "Sooner than you think."

Camille's fingers dug deep into her skirt. She felt furious, and as she watched him walk away- she wished she could murder him in cold blood.

Camille stood up straight. There was no way she would let him beat her. No. Her life was on the line, and she'd be damned to let him win.

She strode confidently to the elevator, but as she made to press the button, a cleaner who was nearby said to her, "The elevator isn't working. You should take the one over there."

Camille could swear that she had just seen Pierce Landon get into this particular elevator. So how could it suddenly be out of order?

"Thank you," she thanked the cleaner, then proceeded to the working elevator.

She pressed the button. The elevator opened up. She was just about to walk in when her phone rang.

With her hand still on the elevator's button, she swiped the green button. The caller was Joyce.

"Hey, Joyce. Now is really not a good time. I'm kind of busy," she said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was only calling because my father wants to see you. Would that be possible?"

Camille had been meaning to speak with Joyce's father; he worked as a gardener in her father's estate. If anyone would know anything about her father's death, he might.

"Yes, of course. I will stop by... let's say... tomorrow evening. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure it would be. I'll let him know. And if anything else, I'll call you."

"Okay. Good-"

A sharp metallic crack resounded through the air, and then it happened really fast-the elevator had dropped-a thunderous grinding screech filled the air.

As Camille watched in horror, her finger still placed on the button-a deafening BOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!! filled the air as the elevator slammed into the pit below.

"Camille? What was that? Are you alright? Camille??? Camille, speak to me??? What was that? CAMILLE!!" The faint sound of Joyce's screams couldn't bring Camille out of her state of horror.

Only one sentence repeated in her head, as she stepped back in sheer horror: 'She'd nearly entered the elevator.' Her head turned in the direction of the cleaner, but he was gone.

Her eyes grew larger as her thoughts pooled together.

Then, in the mess, she heard a voice so clear.

"It's a pity you weren't in it."

She turned in the direction of the voice. Pierce Landon stood beside her, his eyes glinting with mischief.

She stared at the hollow elevator, then back at him. And he shrugged. "Workplace accident."