: Visitor (Gianna's POV) I stood there, my pencil in behind my ear while leaning on my office desk. "It isn't working!" Julianne screamed in frustration. "It will. Keep trying," I nodded. "Gianna." "Julianne," I smiled. "This drape cannot go across the dress with the pleating and the glitter and the tassels and the lace!" "It's what our client wants, you have to do it." "Gianna!" I pushed myself off the desk. "Unless you can't. Then send Brad in. You're not the only designer here," I chuckled. She glared at me. "Okay, that was rude, sorry. But we have to make it happen, come on." "You try it then." She stepped away from the mannequin with the dress on it. I gathered my hair and rolled it up into a low bun, holding it in place with the pencil. I kicked my heels off and walked over to the mannequin, grabbing the drape. I tried just the way she did but every time I tried, either the pleating would fall open, or the skirt would give out and unfold. I sighed and stepped back, sitting on my desk, staring at it. "We can't make it." "Yes, we can," I said, determined to make this stupid dress work. It looks hideous, it really does. But it's what our client wants. She loves it, so we're making it. "Keep a hold on the skirt and give me the pins. Bring some more lace, I think it can work if we stitch a little more fabric onto the end." "It'll be too long." "It won't, we'll pleat it again. Get the lace, please." She left my office and I stepped behind the mannequin, fixing the back of the dress, making sure the zipper worked smoothly, making sure the trail of the dress flowed nicely. I heard my door open and then close and stuck my hand out over the shoulder of the mannequin. I was expecting lace to be dropped in my palm. Not another hand. I looked up, my eyes meeting his whiskey ones. I pulled my hand away quickly and the mannequin fell forward. "Oi!" I grabbed it, pulling it back up and letting out a huff. I walked around it, facing him. "Why are you here?" He looked at the dress, tilting his head to one side. He pointed at it and then turned to me. "That is hideous." "I know. What do you want?" "I'm here to see my future wife's office. Why? Is that wrong?" "Unless you're here to sit quietly in a corner, it's very wrong," I said, folding my arms across my chest. The door opened and Julianne walked in with the lace and the box of sewing pins. She looked between us, her eyes widened when she realized who the man standing here was. "Ace Allister," she squeaked. He smiled, sending her a wave. She walked over to me, her eyes focused on him and suddenly, I wished I could prick her with one of the pins. I grabbed the lace and a pin, tucking the end with the ball between my lips. I stood behind the mannequin. "Hand me the drape," I demanded. She finally looked away from him and splayed the drape across while holding the skirt with her other hand. I pinned the drape to the back of the dress and then walked to the front, pinning the pleats. "See, it worked." "What about the skirt?" "Stitch it shut. Stitch all the points I just pinned. Anything else about this that isn't working?" She shook her head, grabbing the box of pins. "Good. Go ahead and finish it off today. We need to ship it out tomorrow." She left, wheeling the mannequin with her. I pulled my heels back on and faced him. "Why are you here, Allister?" "I was curious about you." I sat on the desk, crossing my ankles. "About me?" "I should know how and where you work." "Hmm," I nodded. "But I don't want to know either of those things about you. Well, you've seen how and where I work now. Can you leave?" "Not yet." I sighed, getting off the desk and sitting in my chair, moving the mouse and turning the computer on. I checked the latest designs for our next client's clothes and printed them out, looking for my pencil. "Looking for something?" I looked to my left where he stood right beside me now, watching me. "No," I mumbled and continued looking around. "A pen?" "Nope." "A pencil?" I ignored him and continued searching but he grabbed the chair and spun it around so I faced him. He leaned down, his hands on the armrests while he got closer, only inches left between us. "Pencil?" I blinked, staring at him, ignoring the way my heart rate picked up. He reached up and pulled it out of my hair, holding it in front of me. My hair fell open, cascading down my back. I snatched the pencil out of his hand and pushed him away, turning to the sketches I just printed and started adding the changes. "You work awfully hard." "Do I? Rich coming from you considering you run a club twenty-four-seven and kill people." "Are you keeping tabs on me?" he mused. "You wish," I mumbled, putting the pencil down when I finished. I grabbed the telephone and dialed the designing department, calling Brad in. I put the phone down as he said, "Ms. Gianna." I turned to him. "Yes?" "What's your plan?" He leaned his hip against the desk, watching me while I stared at him blankly in response. "Are you going to kill me?" He smirked, lifting a single brow. Yes. Precisely that. That's exactly why I agreed to marry him. I know that there is a fat chance that I won't be able to do what I'm aiming for. Killing the biggest, most known, scariest man in our circle is too difficult. But I have every intention to try. And if I can't kill him, I will at the very least make his life miserable. I want to break him, make him suffer for the rest of his days, make him regret marrying me and killing my brother, both. I want to shatter him. I shook my head, smiling. "Just hurt you." There was a knock on my door. "Come in!" Brad came in with his bleached, platinum blonde hair that I sometimes wish for, and his septum piercing, black nails, and tattoos. I think Brad is my favorite employee. "Gianna," he sang, sitting in the chair in front of me. He turned to Ace. "Mr. Ace," he smiled. Ace looked at me. "Who is he?" "My favorite employee," I answered. Brad gasped and then grinned. "Tell me about the design. Does it match what the client told you?" "It does, for the most part. I sent you the reference pictures but you didn't look at them, did you?" He smiled sheepishly. "That's what I thought. Look at them. Here." I slid the sketches to him. "I marked everything that needs to be changed. It's a nice dress, she wants it in aqua, iridescent blue. Make fresh sketches and bring them to me." "Okie-doke." "And draw it by hand." He froze. "What? Why? I always draw digitally." "You do, but draw this by hand." "Gianna." "Do it," I ordered. He huffed and stood up, "Fine. I'll do it." He turned to Ace who was still sort of glaring at him. "Hmm," Brad nodded. I looked between the two. "You don't have to glare at me," he shook his head at Ace. "I'm gay. If anything, she should be glaring at me." Ace faltered for just a second, straightening up. I let out a laugh, quieting it down behind my hand while I looked through the huge glass window I sat behind. "Get out," I laughed at Brad, waving him away. He winked at Ace and then left. I snorted, allowing myself to laugh. It's not always that I get the chance to laugh at Ace Allister. I crossed one leg over the other, not looking at him. "Anything else I can do for you, Allister?" He spun my chair around to face him again. "Fire him." "Anything but that," I smirked. "He seems useless." "I guess that's ironic, considering he's the best designer I have." He let out a breath and then walked to the other side of my table. "I'll leave then. But before I go…" "Yes?" "You don't like diamonds, do you?" I faltered. Why does it matter if I like diamonds or not? He's expected to buy me a goddamn ring. "I love diamonds," I lied. "Huge ones. Flashy, eye-catching, expensive. Why?" I grinned, leaning forward and holding my chin in my palm. He smirked at me, "Liar. You didn't want the diamond at the auction but you wanted a flower." "I wanted the flower, but I hope you remember what I took. The dagger," I said, emphasizing the words. "Ah, you plan to kill me with it, do you?" Yes. If not kill you then at least hurt you. "You said you think I'd be a great wife. Are you changing your mind, Allister?" He shook his head, smirking. "I still think you will." I narrowed my eyes. "You can go now." He stepped towards the door but stopped at my words. "Allister." "Yes?" He didn't turn around. "Don't come to my office as a visitor again." "A visitor?" He acted offended, turning to face me now. "Ouch." "A visitor," I nodded. "People don't know we're getting married yet. I'd like it to remain that way." "Why? So your boyfriend isn't heartbroken yet?" "Not that I have a boyfriend, but sure, why not?" I rolled my eyes. "I just don't want people to know yet. Can't you respect that?" "I can. Doesn't mean I will," he replied. "Then don't. Do as you wish," I sighed in frustration. "Just get out." He watched me for a silent minute and then left. I groaned, putting my head down on the table. I can't believe he showed up here at my work and made such an entrance, that too in front of the two employees who gossip the most. I am screwed and it's my damn office. . . . . . Chapter 5