The Tyrant's Wife

Chapter 22 - Infuriating Boss

In her office, Zaria looked at her broken tablet with a mournful gaze. It couldn't turn on no matter how she tried, so she wondered whether it could still be repaired or if she would have to buy a new one.

Although it was fairly aged and was no longer as fast as it was when it was new, it held too much of her important information.

Most importantly, it was a gift from her dad, so she was naturally unwilling to part with it. In the end, she decided to send it to its manufacturing company so it would be repaired.

…

In the afternoon.

Zaria had no choice but to make her way to Desmond's office again, carrying a cup of black coffee with her.

"Your afternoon coffee." She placed the white cup on the desk and made to retreat.

"I don't want black coffee." He looked up with a displeased expression just as she prepared to leave.

She could only patiently ask, "What would you like?"

He tapped the top of his desk as he thought about it. In the end, his shoulders sprung into a shrug. "I don't know. You find out."

She frowned like she had just heard the most absurd thing. "How would I know what you want?" She didn't know how to read minds!

The man looked at her lazily, reclining in his chair unhurriedly. "Don't you know what everyone wants to eat and drink? Why is it suddenly hard?"

Zaria frowned and blinked. What weird logic was this? She was about to say something when she understood. Was it because of what happened in the conference room a moment ago?

If it was merely because she had managed to guess what Mr. Bryce wanted that he was making things difficult for her, then he was the most childish person on earth.

"Hurry up." He ordered, delighting in her troubled expression.

Zaria picked up the cup and left the office with an evil grin. Don't you regret it.

Ten minutes later.

"Back so soon?" He looked up with a grin when he heard the familiar clank of high heels.

She said nothing and presented the new drink in the same cup she had left with, making him frown. What the heck was this creamy liquid?

"Have a taste and see if you like it." She smiled, seeming like she was enjoying this a little too much. Something about the fakeness of her smile made it almost seem like there was something wrong with this bizarre looking drink—like it was poisoned or something. Considering that this was Zaria before him, that was not entirely impossible.

Even so, he lifted the cup and took a sip as if to prove a point, but he spat it out in the next second.

"What the hell is this?!" He was furious. Did this woman dump a slab of cream powder and a mountain of sugar into his coffee?

From her smug look as she leaned against the side of the chair opposite his, he knew that she had done it on purpose.

"You didn't seem to want the black coffee since it is bitter, so I thought you should appreciate something a little sweeter. Enjoy your coffee, sir."

She then sauntered out of his office, leaving him enraged to the core. That woman! Wasn't she afraid of losing her job for angering him? He glanced at the cup he had set aside. Where did she get the audacity to call it coffee?

Besides, why was it that although he was so enraged, all he could think about was how sexy she looked when she was fearlessly pranking her boss?

___

By the time evening came, Zaria had spent more time at Desmond's office than she had at her own office. The man must be addicted to making people redo errands over and over again, even if there was no fault in them. She slapped the proposal she had been told to rewrite onto her desk and sighed.

Earlier, she was wondering why Desmond would be so kind as to employ her despite their enmity. Now it all made sense. He only wanted her to be in his territory, so he would torture her.

And she, like a fool, had fallen right into his trap.

"It's for F&P Media, Zaria." She mumbled to herself, restraining the urge to barge into that man's office and give him a slap across his face.

Resigning to her fate, she retyped the proposal and took another agonizing trip to Desmond's office.

She was about to lift her hand to knock when someone beamed a smile at her. "Hey, Zaria. How is your first day of work?"

It was Liam.

She knew that they were friends, but after keeping it in all day, she couldn't help but groan. "As perfect as it could be when working under a jerk of a boss."

Fate must really hate her because as soon as she finished complaining, the door opened and out came an expressionless Desmond.

Liam chuckled while her blood ran cold. Did he hear her? In the next second, she rolled her eyes. So what if he heard her? She was merely telling the truth.

"You. Come with me." The man ignored his friend and spoke to Zaria sharply.

"I brought the proposal you had me redo—which, by the way, had no fault in the first place." She held the document out to him.

He ignored it, probably because he knew that he wouldn't have anything to nitpick this time. "We are going to meet my lawyer and then you will drive me home." He demanded.

"No one told me anything about having to work overtime." She frowned.

He raised his eyebrows in contempt. "Miss Williams, you were so horrible at doing your job that I had to stay back and check the horrible editions of your proposal. Isn't it your fault that I missed the right timing for the meeting with my lawyer?"

Zaria gasped. What nonsense! This idiot was forcing logic! What exactly was there to correct? The last two times, he had her redo the whole thing because the font type did not please his eyes!

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