105
Miranda/Laila’s POV
I sat at my desk, sipping my morning coffee while poring over the stack of documents my secretary, Clara, had brought in earlier. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee swirled around me, momentarily easing the tension that had built up over the past few days. I needed this—something to ground me amidst the chaos. Yet, even as I tried to focus, I couldn’t shake the feeling that trouble was brewing. It always was.
The knock on my office door pulled me out of my thoughts. Clara stepped in, her face unusually tense, lips pressed tightly together. Before she could speak, another figure emerged behind her. It was Mr. Williams, his usual stiff demeanor replaced by an unsettling smile. My brows furrowed slightly. This man had made his disdain for me clear from the moment I took over as CEO. What could he possibly want now?
“Good morning, Miss Laila,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too friendly. “I hope I’m not disturbing you. I’m here to extend a formal invitation.”
I placed my coffee down and leaned back in my chair, studying him carefully. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Good morning, Mr. Williams. An invitation? To what, exactly?”
“To a small welcome-back party in your honor,” he said with a broad grin, clasping his hands together as if he were genuinely thrilled. “To celebrate your rise as CEO. It’s a gesture of goodwill from the board members, myself included.”
I arched a brow. Goodwill? From him? My instincts screamed that this was far from a gesture of goodwill. Still, I kept my expression neutral, masking the suspicion swirling inside me.
“How thoughtful,” I said coolly. “And when is this party supposed to take place?”
“This evening at 6:30 p.m., at Hotel Belarus downtown,” he replied. His voice brimmed with enthusiasm, but I wasn’t fooled.
I gave a curt nod. “I’ll see if I can make it. Thank you for letting me know.”
His smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he regained composure. “We hope to see you there.”
With that, he turned on his heel and left. Clara lingered behind, her concern evident.
“Ma’am,” she began hesitantly, “are you really going to that party? Something feels off about this. Mr. Williams has never been supportive of you, and now this sudden change?”
I offered her a reassuring smile, though my mind was already racing with possibilities. “Don’t worry, Clara. I’ll handle it. I know exactly what I’m walking into.”
She still looked uneasy but nodded before leaving me alone in the office.
Later that evening, I stood before the full-length mirror in my bedroom, adjusting the hem of my scarlet mini dress. It hugged my figure perfectly, striking the balance between elegance and allure. I paired it with sleek black heels, a matching clutch, and a crimson ribbon tied in my hair for a touch of playfulness.
As I sprayed on my favorite perfume, I caught my reflection smirking back at me. If they’re planning something, I’ll be ready. Let the games begin.
The venue was buzzing with activity when I arrived. The grand ballroom of Hotel Belarus shimmered with golden lights, soft music playing in the background. Waitstaff in crisp uniforms weaved through the crowd, balancing trays of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres.
The moment I stepped in, all eyes turned to me. A hush fell over the room, only to be broken by murmurs and polite applause. I held my head high, exuding confidence even as I felt the weight of their scrutiny.
Mr. Williams approached, his smile even broader than before. “Miss Laila, you look stunning this evening. Welcome!”
“Thank you, Mr. Williams,” I replied, my tone measured. My eyes darted around the room, taking in the unfamiliar faces mingling with the familiar. “Quite the gathering you’ve put together.”
“Only the best for our esteemed CEO,” he said, motioning to a table. “Please, have a seat. Can I offer you a drink?”
I glanced at the array of bottles on the table—hard liquors, mostly. Predictable. “Just a soft drink, please. I have to drive myself home.”
He chuckled, waving off my concern. “Nonsense! We’ll arrange for someone to drive you. You deserve to let loose tonight.”
I gave a tight-lipped smile. So, this is how they plan to play it. Get me drunk, humiliate me, or worse.
Reluctantly, I accepted the first drink he poured—a small glass of whiskey. Raising it to my lips, I pretended to sip, letting the liquid trickle down the side unnoticed before pouring the rest discreetly onto the carpet beneath the table.
By the fifth round, I forged dizziness, clutching my temple with one hand. “I think I might’ve overdone it,” I murmured, slurring my words slightly for effect.
Mr. Williams’ eyes gleamed with triumph. He leaned closer. “Miss Laila, are you alright? Perhaps you should rest.”
“I... I think you’re right,” I said, swaying unsteadily.
He immediately called for one of the waitresses. “Please, escort Miss Laila to one of the VIP rooms so she can rest.”
The waitress, a young woman with a sly smile, helped me to my feet. She guided me down a dimly lit hallway, her grip firm on my arm. When we reached the room, she opened the door and helped me inside, placing me on the plush bed.
“Rest well, ma’am,” she said sweetly, but her tone carried a sinister edge.
As she left, I caught her whispering to someone outside. “You can go in now. She’s out cold. Be quick.”
The door creaked open again, and I heard heavy footsteps approaching. My heart raced, but I kept my breathing even, my body limp.
“Hello, my beautiful peaches,” a deep, rough voice drawled.
I flinched inwardly at the sickening familiarity of his tone but forced myself to stay still.
The figure loomed over me, his cologne sharp and overpowering. “You look even more delicious up close,” he murmured, his hand reaching out.
To be continued....