Chapter 14: Lunch Disaster
“Sorry, Miss. Food couriers use the back door.”
A red-haired woman with a tight skirt and a shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing her cleavage and wearing overpowering perfume, blocked Agatha's path. Viona, the secretary, looked Agatha up and down with a gaze full of disgust.
“I am not a courier. I just want to meet Mr. Xavier.”
Agatha answered softly, deliberately hunching her shoulders. Playing the role of a lost village girl perfectly.
Viona laughed loudly. “Did you hear that, Siska? She wants to meet Mr. Xavier. Sweetheart, Mr. Xavier is the busiest man in Paris. This is the first time a woman has dared to come claiming to be his wife while carrying an antique lunch box... especially with such a... filthy appearance. Do you think this is a place for beggars?”
Viona crossed her arms over her chest, laughing mockingly. “Leave before I call security. The smell is very pungent. What is inside that box you are carrying? Rotten fish?”
“Please, Miss. My husband asked for it. He said he was hungry.”
“Husband? Are you crazy?”
Viona pushed Agatha's shoulder quite hard. Agatha, who deliberately did not put up a defense, immediately stumbled and hit the wall.
“Oops. On purpose,” sneered Viona. “Go away. Your place is in the basement, not on the CEO floor.”
Agatha looked down, hiding a thin smirk. Too easy.
“What is this commotion?”
A cold baritone voice cut through the air. The meeting room door opened. Xavier came out with a stiff face, followed by the directors.
“I apologize, Sir,” Viona hurriedly put on a sweet face. “There is a strange woman forcing her way in and claiming to be your wife. I already kicked her out but she is too stubborn.”
Xavier stopped. His emerald eyes stared at the figure of the woman in dull clothes who was looking down.
“Agatha,” Xavier called out flatly.
Agatha looked up. Her fake tears were already pooling. “Xavier... Your secretary pushed me. She said I was filthy. Even though I cooked tirelessly for you just like you asked.” Her hand reached out to wipe a falling fake tear.
Silence. The hallway suddenly went quiet.
Viona paled when she saw Xavier pull the woman into his embrace and wipe her tears instead.
“You pushed her?” asked Xavier softly but menacingly.
“Sir... I... I didn't...”
“This woman is Agatha Arionsa Valois. My wife. The only woman who has the right to do anything in this company if she wants to. And you pushed her?”
Viona's knees went weak instantly. “Forgive me, Sir... Forgive me, Madam... I misunderstood...”
“Misunderstood, you say? Frans!” Xavier called his personal aide who had just appeared. “Fire this woman. Make sure her name is on the blacklist of every company in Paris.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Don't!” interrupted Agatha gently.
Agatha released Xavier's embrace, approached the trembling Viona, and squeezed her shoulder hard.
“Don't fire her, Honey. Poor thing, she surely has a family to take care of. She is just loyal in guarding your office. Isn't that right, Viona?”
“Yes... Yes, Madam. That's right...” Viona nodded frantically.
“Let her keep working, Xavier. But perhaps her position is not suitable as a secretary,” Agatha smiled sweetly. “Make her the cleaning staff specifically for this floor. Her task is to clean and wipe the corridor floor using a toothbrush.”
Viona gaped. “What?”
Agatha's gaze turned cold. “Why? You don't want to? Which do you prefer: being fired and becoming a homeless person, or being demoted but still getting paid?”
“I-I want to, Madam...” squeaked Viona.
“Good.” Agatha patted Viona's cheek lightly. “Now bring this lunch box to my husband's room. Don't spill a single drop.”
Agatha sashayed into the CEO's room, leaving Viona with her dignity plummeting drastically.
Inside the room, Agatha immediately threw her old-fashioned coat onto the sofa.
“Good acting, Mrs. Valois,” quipped Xavier while loosening his tie.
Viona entered briefly to put down the lunch box, then ran out in fear.
“Where is the photo?” demanded Agatha.
“Eat first. I'm hungry,” Xavier pointed at the lunch box.
Agatha opened the lunch box. A pungent aroma wafted out. Xavier raised an eyebrow seeing the contents. Oysters, concentrated red ginseng, and half-boiled duck eggs.
“Is this a lunch menu or a last meal?” His eyes stared at the food box strangely.
“You said you were weak. This is a secret recipe for the stamina of a hard-working man like you. The price is fifty thousand dollars,” answered Agatha innocently.
Xavier was not fooled. He held out a spoon. “You are my food taster. Eat one spoon from each level. Prove this is not poisonous.”
Agatha swallowed hard.
Damn.
She was on the first day of her period. Eating raw ginseng and oysters was tantamount to seeking death. Her blood would rush and her abdominal cramps would go crazy.
“Why do you hesitate?” Xavier's eyes narrowed, his hand moving toward the paper shredder.
“There is no poison!”
For the sake of the photo about her, Agatha was forced to. She swallowed one raw oyster, one large spoon of hot ginseng soup, and the yolk.
Agatha held her breath, trying to hide her stomach which began to churn with heat. “Satisfied? I didn't die, right?”
“Good.”
Xavier pulled the lunch box and ate the rest voraciously until it was finished. He was unaware of the trap awaiting him.
Suddenly the door opened. Frans, Xavier's right-hand man, entered without knocking.
“Boss, the board of directors meeting regarding the twin towers starts in two minutes. Those old investors are waiting.” Frans glanced at Agatha. “Wow, who is this sweet girl? Her taste in clothes is unique.”
“My wife,” answered Xavier briefly. He stood up, but suddenly felt... hot. Very hot.
“Is the AC in this room broken?”
“It's normal, Boss. 18 degrees,” answered Frans confusedly.
Xavier ignored the heat. He pointed at Agatha. “You. Stay here. Frans, lock the door from the outside. Don't let her escape.”
“Roger, Boss.”
Click. The door locked.
Agatha was alone. And her defenses crumbled.
“Argh...” Agatha clutched her lower abdomen.
The ginseng effect worked fast. Her body felt like it was burning. Her blood rushed, making her period pain twice as painful. But at the same time, there was a strange agonizing surge of desire.
Agatha tried to stand but her legs were too weak. She collapsed sitting on the edge of the sofa, her breathing ragged, cold sweat pouring down. She was trapped in her own game.