Empire of Hate: A Second Chance Enemies to Lovers Romance

This is a trick of my mind.

A cruel twist of my imagination.

A nightmare.

Yes. That’s all this could be about. A nightmare. If I wake up now, it’ll all be over.

If I wake up now, I’ll be drenched in sweat and have tears in my eyes, but it’ll be an illusion.

I’m not actually facing Daniel after eleven years of running away and trying to erase everything about him from my memory.

So I blink once, twice, but he’s still crystal clear in front of me. Like a hurricane that’s growing in intensity with the mere purpose of hitting me.

Breaking me to pieces.

Tearing me apart.

His presence is no different than being crushed over and left to perish. Not only is it imposing, but it also tugs on strings I thought I cut off a long time ago.

Strings that are currently vibrating inside me for the mere fact that I’m right in front of him again.

The last time I saw him, we were only eighteen, but he’s older now, more masculine. All man.

His jaw has squared and his hair that used to fall haphazardly all over his forehead is styled with subtle elegance. It’s become darker, too, as if he made it his mission to kill any light strands that streaked it.

The way he sits behind his desk is laced with nonchalance, but it’s not lazy—more like commanding. It’s like he’s a powerful king who expects everyone in the court to bend to his royal decree.

He leans over, places his elbows on the table, and interlinks his fingers at his chin. It’s a habit he used to do whenever he was deep in thought or angry. I’m not sure which feeling is more prominent right now, because his face is a blank slate.

His eyes, that I used to predict his mood through, are expressionless, muted, almost as if someone stole the stars from within them and blocked the sun. The only thing that remains is a bottomless blue, like a starless, moonless night.

And they’re zeroed in on me with a cool that chills me to my bones. Maybe cool isn’t the right word. There’s a coldness in there, an icy quality that’s meant to freeze me to death.

He used to have the type of beauty that brought me peace and calm. Now, it’s savage, unrestrained, and with every intention to hurt.

I’m not fooled by the way he looks. By how he wears his tailored gray suit like a supermodel or how he sits majestically like some lord. I’m not fooled by his unperturbed expression or seemingly calm façade. Because it’s just that.

A façade.

A way to pull me forward like prey, then pounce on me, devour my flesh, and crunch my bones.

“Are you going to stand there all day?”

I flinch, partly because my illusion that this is a dream is long gone. He’s right there, in person, and waiting. And partly because of his voice. It’s so deep but laced with a velvet-like quality. Which makes him sound approachable when he’s anything but. He also sounded disapproving just now, as if I’m a worthless rock in his shoe.

“Either come inside and close the door or get out. Leave your access card at HR while you’re at it.”

I force myself out of my haze and close the door with clammy, trembling fingers.

This job is important, not only for me but also for Jayden.

So what if I feel like dissociating from my own skin or digging my own grave? What if I feel like turning back, running, and never seeing those blue eyes again?

It doesn’t matter.

Jay’s survival and health do.

If I have to work for Daniel in order to provide for him, then so be it. Besides, there’s no flash of recognition on his features, so maybe he forgot about me.

Maybe he erased everything that happened between us and he’s now a new man who couldn’t give a damn about the past.

The thought tugs on those stupid heartstrings and I inhale deeply to put a halt to my reaction. But it’s all involuntary, pulled out from deep inside me by an invisible force I can’t control.

“Good morning, I’m the new assistant. My name is Nicole Adler.” I’m thankful my voice doesn’t waver and remains calm, almost as neutral as his indifference.

“I don’t care about your name. I’ll forget it once you fail the trial period.” He stares at his luxurious Swiss watch before he slides his icy stare back at me. “And it’s half past eight, which means you’re late, so there’s nothing specifically good about this morning.”

My stomach contracts and it has to do with his harsh words as much as his voice. I need to get used to it right away if I want to stay professional and keep this job.

“I’m sorry about that, but I had to finish up some paperwork with HR and—”

“All I hear are meaningless excuses,” he cuts me off. “Don’t repeat such behavior or your trial period will end before it even starts. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” I say, even though I want to scream, and not about this situation, but about all the chaotic thoughts and lines broken up inside me like distorted music playing underwater.

I want to scream and ask him if he’ll really pretend he doesn’t know me. He must’ve seen my résumé. He knows it’s me. I doubt he’s known many Nicole Adlers in his life.

But why does it matter?

In fact, I should be happy that it’s impersonal. That way, I can pretend this is only work that I’m using to keep a roof over my and Jay’s heads.

“Good.” He stands up and I suck in a harsh breath, hoping to hell he doesn’t hear it.

He was magnetic while sitting, but when he’s at his full height, it’s almost too blinding and unbearable to look at.

Not only is he tall, but he also has a mystic, attractive way of carrying himself. His shoulders are straight, his wide chest in perfect proportion with his jacket, and his trousers outline his long legs and thighs. I wonder if they’re still muscular from when he played football back in junior and secondary school.

The thought is chased away from my head when he rounds his desk, then leans against it, his legs crossed at the ankles as he faces me.

He seems to be waiting for something, but I’m not sure what, so I ask, “Do you need anything?”

“Your brain, Ms. Adler, or did you leave that at home this morning?”

I grind the back of my teeth, then I breathe in copious intakes of air. “If you tell me what you need, I’ll get right to it.”

“What else would I need from you other than taking notes of what I want to be done?”

“Oh, sure.” I retrieve the tablet HR gave me from my bag and have barely opened the notes app when he starts speaking in rapid-fire.

“I need my coffee from Dolcezza at eight a.m. sharp. Black with exactly one gram of sugar. Then, you’ll go through my schedule and recheck with clients about their availability. You’ll remind me of my domestic court dates and book the phone calls with international clients. If there’s a flight, you’ll book it beforehand and send me constant reminders about it. My lunch should be picked up from Katerina’s at twelve thirty. My dry cleaning should be put in my flat at three p.m. Then you’ll manage the schedule of when I’m playing golf with the mayor and other influential figures. Always keep your phone with you in case I text you for something urgent—that includes nighttime.”

I’m breathing heavily from the onslaught of information. My fingers ache from typing all his instructions and I hope to hell I didn’t miss anything.

The last bit he says throws me off and I look up. I wish I hadn’t because he’s staring at me like a hawk who’s zeroing in on his prey. It’s almost like he enjoyed seeing me sweat and scramble to write it all down.

Clearing my throat, I ask, “Nighttime?”

“We work on international clients’ schedules, who, if you brought your brain with you, you’ll realize are in different time zones than us. If that will pose a problem, you know where the door is.”

Damn this jerk. He’s been trying to get me fired since the moment I walked into his office. But he doesn’t know how desperate I am or how much I need this.

He can show me his worst and I still won’t back down.

“I was only asking for clarification. I’m fine with it.”

I just need to make sure I keep my phone on vibration mode so as not to disturb Jay.

“Not that it matters.” He lifts his haughty, straight nose in the air as if I’m beneath looking at. “Needless to say, I don’t tolerate mistakes. Miss a chore and you’re out. Mess up and you’re also out. Are we clear?”

“Yes.”

“It’s yes, sir.”

I bite the inside of my cheek so hard, I’m surprised no blood explodes in my mouth.

“Are you daft or bad at following instructions, Ms. Adler?”

“No.”

“No, sir. Now, say it.” There’s a challenge in his tone, coupled with a strange gleam in his eyes. It’s nothing bright or shiny like the Daniel I know.

This one is sadistic, glinting with only one intention.

Humiliating me.

But screw him.

If he thinks my pride will stop me from stooping low, then he doesn’t know how much of a thick skin I’ve grown over the years.

“No, sir,” I say with a coolness I don’t feel.

“That’s how you’ll address me from now on. Are we clear?”

I nod.

“You have a voice, use it.”

“Yes, sir.” The last word gets stuck in my throat, no matter how much I try to swallow past it.

The jerk must find pleasure in making me feel as small as a dead fly stuck to the sole of his shoe.

But it doesn’t matter. I went through worse for Jay, and I can do this, too, if I put my mind to it.

Daniel can be the worst boss to ever exist, but I won’t break.

Not after I’ve come this far.

“Now get out and do your job.” He doesn’t even spare me a glance as he turns around and walks to the window of his office that overlooks New York City.

For a second, only a second, I stand there and watch the hard ridges of his back. I watch how his jacket creases at the contours of his wide shoulders as he places a hand in his pocket.

I’m not even looking at his face, but the mere image of him turned away from me fills me with a sense of trepidation.

It’s the invisible line again. The knowledge that he’d never see me.

“Are your legs nonfunctioning, too? Or is it your ears?” he says without facing me.

“No,” I say, then quickly blurt, “sir.”

“Then why the fuck aren’t you leaving? You should’ve been out of here thirty seconds ago.”

I give an awkward nod that he doesn’t see, then I walk to the door. Every step is like dragging a mountain with each leg.

My fingers are sweaty on the tablet and a slight tremor takes refuge in my limbs.

It’s as if it takes superhuman power to step out of his office without somehow melting in the process.

When I reach my desk in the space that’s in front of his door, I throw my weight on the chair and hold my head between my hands.

Bloody hell.

I lost a few years of my lifespan in there, and the worst part is that it’s only the beginning.

The worst part is that what’s coming will probably be worse than what’s gone.

The phone of the desk rings and I jerk, my leg hitting against the wood.

“Ouch,” I mutter, massaging the hurt spot before I pick it up with a calm tone to my voice. “Hello.”

“It’s not hello, it’s Weaver & Shaw, Daniel Sterling’s office, how may I help you?” His strong voice filters through the phone like doom. “If you lack competence, how the hell did you even get the job, Ms. Adler?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry what?”

“Sir,” I grind out, my fingers turning sweaty on the phone.

“Repeat that, but without attitude this time.”

My nails dig into my skirt and I wish I could rip it and reach the flesh. Instead, I suck in a deep breath and say as calmly as possible, “Sir.”

“You still didn’t get me my coffee, in case you haven’t noticed. It’s about an hour late.”

I grab the phone with both hands to hold on to my patience. “I only learned about your requirements today.”

“So it’s my fault the coffee is late?”

Yes. Why the heck can’t he just get his own freaking coffee himself?

Because he’s a jerk, that’s why. But I can’t say that, or I’ll definitely get fired.

“No, it’s not,” I say with a fake smile. “I’ll get your coffee right away, sir.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I stare at the phone with incredulousness. Did the bastard just hang up in my face? Yes, he did, and I need to stay calm because murder will cost me Jayden.

Breathing in deeply, I grab the company card, then head to the coffee shop outside the building, assuming that’s where Daniel gets his coffee.

Then I stop when I catch that the name is different from the one in my notes. I put it in the maps app and have to do a whole fifteen-minute tour on foot—while wearing freaking heels—to finally find the place.

Why can’t he use the normal coffee shop near the firm? Better yet, there’s a perfectly equipped cafeteria at Weaver & Shaw from which all the employees get premium coffee, but how can he be a bastard if he doesn’t get his coffee from some obscure place away from the main street?

Once I get inside, I’m surprised by how small and cozy the coffee shop is, almost like it has the traditional setting of a pub. The name is Italian, though—Dolcezza.

The strong smell of fresh coffee makes me crave one myself, but one glance at the prices and I completely change my mind.

Yeah, I’ll just make a regular one in the office.

After I get Daniel’s coffee, I place half a teaspoon of sugar, assuming that’s relatively close to the one gram he spoke of.

When I get to his office, I’m sweating like a pig and my feet are screaming in pain from the marathon I just went through.

Straightening my shoulders, I knock on the door, then go inside at his gruff “Come in.”

I find him staring at his watch. “Not only do you not bring coffee on time, but you’re also another thirty minutes late.”

“The coffee shop is fifteen minutes away.”

“Not my problem. Walk faster.” He snaps his fingers, which is my cue to give it to him.

I hand him the coffee and rein in an exasperated sigh.

He takes a sip, then his lips twist. “Did I not say one gram of sugar?”

“That’s what I put approximately.”

“That’s more than one gram, Ms. Adler, and don’t do “approximately” again.” Then he throws the cup of coffee in the rubbish bin.

The cup I went to hell and back for is now in the rubbish.

“Go get me a new one and make it right this time. I want you here in twenty minutes and you’ll make up for the extra hour you wasted.”

He’s got to be kidding me.

I stare at him, but no, he’s not kidding. He’s staring at me with expectation.

He lifts his chin in that haughty, jerk way. “Do you have a problem with what I just asked, Ms. Adler?”

Oh, I get it now.

He’s trying to make me quit, isn’t he?

Well, he doesn’t know who the heck he’s dealing with.

“No, sir,” I say, another fake smile plastered on my face. “I’ll get a replacement right away.”

I can play your game, jerk.

If this is his form of revenge, then I’m playing, too.

We’ll see who will hold on until the end.