11|Poisoned by unsaid words|

"You think you can make her come?"

Tayson combatted for breaths, then casually hoisted the weights, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth.

"I am master in making women cum," he said, intense enough for men around them to peek at him and either smirk or laugh, while Wes punched his stone-hard abs, making the sweaty man flounder and lose his stability over the silver equipment.

"Fuck!" He groaned, slamming the weights on the floor with a vociferous thundering noise that appalled the entire gym.

Embarrassed, Tayson grimaced at Wes, who multiple times apologized to atone to the neighbouring5neighbouring folk.

"I really don't think she will come, Tayson. She could work with anyone, all she has to do is throw in her name at the faces of international companies and they will kiss her feet. She could even hire the top attorney to discuss the odds of contract," Wes said, following the annoyed man to the cable crossover machine.

"Right, she can."

Tayson brushed his sweaty hair away from his forehead and clasped the cables in his bare hands. His shoulders flex, veins in his hands burst and his biceps deliciously strained as he wielded his strength to pull the cables with low grunts.

"But she won't. She has no choice but to come to me. She needs me just like I need her," he grumbled, lips forming in the shape of 'o' and hot breaths dodged through them. Sweat percolated down from his temples and abruptly his mind evoked the essence of her bitter scent, rendering him stall.

"What the fuck was that?" he rambled under his breath and convulsed his head as if his senses would yield what was engraved in his mind.

Leona's aura was contagious. He had to be thorough around her.

"What?" Wes asked, taking a sip of orange juice from a sandy bottle. Tayson's phone buzzed, impeding their conversation. Wes glimpsed the screen and his heart plummeted.

"Who's calling?" Tayson inquired, starting to sail another set of shoulders workout.

"No one important," Wes whispered.

That was Tayson's cue to cease his business and hitched his phone from Wes. He looked at the screen and his stomach turned inside out. Pain fused with a tinge of delight crawled on his skin.

"Tayson, don't pick up," like usual, Wes sought to abide him but he knew it wouldn't stave off the man from receiving the call.

Tayson's thumb poised over the red icon to end the call, but at the end, he pilfered the green icon and pressed the phone over his ear, scorning the scowl of his assistant.

"Hello, Tayson," the sweet and sugary voice greeted him.

"Hello, Val," he said, wiping the glistening perspiration from his neck.

"Tayson! It's been so long since we talk, gosh, I missed you," the cheerful woman chirped, not aware that her spontaneous phrase boosted a pang of hurt stirred with happiness in Tayson's chest.

I miss you every day, he silently admitted, biting his lip so the words wouldn't abandon his mouth. "Sorry, I was kinda stuck in work."

"Oh, I see. Hope you are well. Just wanted to say that I came back from a business trip. So, I thought we could, maybe meet up. We didn't get a chance to spend time with each other," the hesitance was crystal clear in her voice, and Tayson smiled at her timidness.

"Of course. Whenever you want," Tayson asked trying to hide his excitement, swinging his gym bag over his shoulder and witnessing a sour look on Wes's face.

"Okay, that would be great, Tayson. I- baby."

A hammer of reality smashed right on his head as he whisked into his car, jabbing the door shut. Wes shortly jumped into the passenger seat, knowing he would be stranded otherwise.

"I gotta go Tayson, see you soon!" the girl hung up and Tayson could just imagine her smiling and hugging someone else.

Gritting his teeth, the pulse in his neck whacked as he shut his eyes and raised his hand to throw yet another phone.

"Leona."

And that ceased his arm midway.

Wes went on with, "Leona will call you, I am sure you don't wanna miss her call because of her call."

Heaving a vexing sigh, Tayson tossed his phone at the back seat, at least away from him so he wouldn't call Valencia and say it all. The burden of unsaid words is like venom, that slowly and tortuously kills you. And Tayson had been poisoned a long time ago.

"Make sure to keep my schedule free. Leona might explode anytime."

.

.

.

"I am going to kill him," Leona announced, trudging into the elevator and Ryan followed her.

"Don't worry, I will prevent you from doing so. At last, that's the purpose of my life. To prevent your ass from rotting in prison," He told her, punching the digits in the controller and glancing around the lavish elevator of the forty-store skyscraper. "He must be filthy rich. The apartments in this tower costs fortune."

"Why are we meeting him in his house and not in the company?" she asked, abhorring the fact the arrogant bastard was right.

She had to walk to him.

Ryan domed his eyebrows, adjusting the black time of his decent blue suit. "You said that you want to meet him in private. Meeting him in his company is not a good idea, if someone spots you there, t-"

"Shut up," she fussed and swung her black handbag back and forth, slapdash tapping her foot on the white marble.

When the elevator halted, Leona held her head high and spruced up her shoulders. Her eyes dominate the devoid and an excellent blend of marine and stardust of green.

She strutted right in front of a mahagony opulence door and gestured to her manager to clang the doorbell that had been earnestly expecting her. Just after a flash the shiny olive green door swings open and a man greeted them with an attractive grin.

Leona slightly frowned at the drizzling enliven and glinting gratify in his brown eyes.

"Hello, I am Wes Matthews. Mr Huxley's secretary, friend, maid, chef, lawyer, comforter, and the only one who can tolerate him," the jet hair man bowed down, a welcoming beam still gracing his pale lips.

"You just described me," Ryan remarked and Wes's eyes shift from Leona to the man. His eyes dilated for a moment as he raked his gaze over Ryan.

Lipspartg in awe or surprise to look at such an adorable yet hot man. Leona glimpsed at her assistant, eyebrows flying up when she discerned Ryan amassing that look.

The look when he wants something bad.

"If you are done eye-fucking each other, may I step in?" she asked, with a smirk plastered on her face. Both the men jerked out of their little fantasy world and Wes stepped aside, face blazing in ruddiness.

"I-I wasn't," Wes whispered, looking down in remorse of being caught.

Leona treaded into the vibrant apartment, saying, "It's okay, honey. My manager is hot, so that's acceptable."

"Leona," Ryan abjectly rasped, strolling behind her.

She smiled innocently but her glow deteriorated when the exceptionally brilliant and lively apartment accosted her.

The jittery feeling provoked apprehensive clumps in her stomach. Being used to the darkness, the colours intimidate her.

Isn't that an irony? The arcane artisan who rules the colours was deep down petrified of them.

Clasping her handbag, she captured a step further but—

"Miss. Pierce."

An anomalous tingle bolted through her torso shot up to her head when the euphonic and ethereal voice resonated in the grand suite. Tayson showed up, hands stowed in the sweat pants of his pockets and clad in a white see-through baggy t-shirt.

Leona sighed, thinking, Did he rinse himself and his house in bleach or something?

He pointed at her ankle-length fury shoes and said, "I want those off."

Leona scoffed at his professional tone but impossibly unprofessional smirk. "You are lucky that I am not in the mood to argue."

She followed Tayson to the living room which was shimmering in pastel shades of blue, aquamarine, and white. The feathery curtains were tucked at the alcoves of windows allowing the daylight to smear the apartment in peach and yellow, depicting the picture of a perfect day for the beach.

"Your apartment is bright like you, Mr Huxley," Ryan remarked, grinning from ear to ear.

"I know, right. It must suck to be surrounded by all black," Tayson said and Leona rolled her eyes knowing it was targetted to her.

She just glanced around at the paintings hanging on the wall. Most of them were abstract art and family pictures.

The apartment was spectacularly symphonized. The lily-white and tawny pieces of furniture were chaste and sang in the praises of the pale blue and gradient walls kindling with the speckles of emerald green.

Leona resolved on an ornate turquoise divan, crossing her legs while Tayson perched across her. Their assistants stood behind their respective bosses, waiting for the war or conference to begin.

"As I said, you walked to me by yourself." Tayson arched his eyebrows.

Leona rolled her eyes for the hundredth time. "Drop your arrogance if you don't want me to smack it out of you."

He licked his plump lips, chuckling at her violent tone. "So fierce."

He ran his fingers through the silky blonde threads, the silver rings sparkling in process. Leona couldn't help but notice how different the man looked then she recalled.

The loose fabric didn't do any justice to his body as it lurked all his muscles and bulky arms, even the veins running down his hands.

"I don't have time for your bullshit. Get straight to the point." She stated.

Tayson clicked his tongue. "You are an hour late and that wasted my precious time, Miss. Pierce."

"I overslept." She shrugged, phantom smiling cause she purposely arrived late.

Ryan cleared his throat. "I am Ryan Singh. Miss. Pierce's manager, and legal representative. I have checked with West's cooperation and they confirmed that you have asked for Leona's termination from there. But we are here to negotiate the contract since my client, who also happens to be my boss, is not interested in working with you."

"Not interested in working with me? Well, I am going to change that, Mr Singh." Tayson straightened his posture, demeanour veering around to the businessman mode as he motioned his assistant to put forth the contract.

Wes promptly did what he was told to do and stood back in his place.

"This contract, Miss. Pierce, apparently state that Ronald West; your late boss, owns some specific rights over you. The foremost is to dismiss you whenever he wants, hand you over to another company, dismiss your work, demand a piece of work, he essentially owned you by this piece of paper," Tayson said, voice powerful, commanding the aura in the room.

"I can read, Mr Huxley," she asserted in a tepid tone.

Tayson smiled in leisure. "That's good. Then you must know that Ronald West transferred you over to Huxley Visions."

"What am I? Some stupid share? To get tossed over to another person. Bullshit," she let out, without missing a beat nor breaking the crashing eye contact.

"The contract is in front of you," Tayson jutted his chin down at the paper.

"Bullshit."

"Miss. Pierce, bullshit is your attitude," he exclaimed, already perturbed by her.

Leona let out a laugh, leaning and placing her chin on her palm. "Bullshit is you, Mr Huxley. You are full of crap." She looked into his eyes that meander in a deadly gale, threatening to succumb her.

Wes chirped in to break the ice. "The conversation is heading in the wrong direction. Let's not crap anyone and talk about the contract."

"I agree," Ryan mumbled.

Tayson lips curved in a fuscous smile and he lurched his head ever so slightly, poring over her Marmoris eyes. "You think that Ronald died in an accident?"

The words precipitated her to drown in Cordolium and render her in a state of foudroyant.