Chapter4

#Chapter4

Bad News-01

SEB

I’ve been facing the window in my office while looking at the exquisite and colossal buildings surrounding me. Business people right now are busy earning money, buying and selling, and closely watching the stock market while I’m here rubbing my aching temples.

The meeting a while ago got on my nerves, I admit it. Right now, I’m having the worst headache of all my headaches. I just wasted my hours meeting with the boards, and all they did was scrutinizing my personal business. I can’t help but groan in annoyance. When the meeting should only last for an hour, it took three long fucking hours of my time.

/"What’s this, son?/" he asks while tapping that filthy tabloid on the table. /"Your face is in this piece of trash again!/" Dad's stern voice echoes in the boardroom.

/"Dad, it’s not what it looks like,/" I say, composing myself though deep inside I’m already furious.

Dad doesn’t just stop there. /"People won’t buy it when you said it’s not what it looks like, will they?/"

Clenching my jaw, I lean my back in the chair and rub my chin. I know he has a point.

/"Seb, you should settle down. Try having a girlfriend. A serious girlfriend./" Uncle Peter suggests. He’s one of the board members.

/"I’ve no time for that shit! I have enough headaches in the office to deal with. I don’t want another one./" I stay tranquil though I’m already pissed.

/"Your dad didn’t have a headache after marrying your mom,/" Another board member says.

/"Try to stay away from this kind of woman, Seb. You are our company. We don’t want bad reputations. It starts to smell, Seb. Just be careful,/" He says, emphasizing the word our.

I narrow my eyes to another board. /"Are you threatening my position? Have you forgotten I have the largest share? And I am still the CEO./" I stand up, leaning my hands on the cold glass table.

/"I am not threatening you. No one is. Just be careful. We don’t want this company would be dragged down by some tabloids. We have a reputation to uphold./" He lowers his voice this time, shrinking back into his seat.

I button my suit and slip my hands into my pockets /"Are we done talking about me? Can we discuss what’s company’s best interest now?/"

The meeting was total bullshit. It explains only one thing, and it is to humiliate me in front of my father. Dad trusts me with the company his father built from sweat and blood. I expected that I have big shoes to fill when I took over this company.

Well, I’m a hardworking and ambitious businessman, and I work to perfection. When it comes to business deals, I deal ruthlessly. I don’t care even if I step into a hell hole. I may be an egotistical and arrogant asshole, according to those who hated my guts, but I work my ass off, so no one has the right to judge me for being me.

I’ve been known to have a playboy and bad boy image that caught attention to one of the top-rated women’s magazines recently. I agreed to be on the cover of their next month’s issue as the world’s sexiest billionaire. Well, as I said, I’m arrogant, and who doesn’t want to be on a Magazine Cover? It’s not my first rodeo anyway, but mostly business-related.

/"Mr. Sebastian Hughes III, I’m Anna Walsh of Women’s World Magazine. We would be delighted if you could grant us an interview. Since you’re voted as the Sexiest Billionaire, we’d be honored to put you on our cover for next month’s issue./"

/"Call my PA Elle to arrange an interview./"

So my ego fluctuated when I heard the news, but unfortunately, it made my life miserable. I mean who would have thought your haircut would be big of a deal? And even the coffee you drink, and everywhere I go, people took pictures of me.

My life drastically changed/ I even added my security. I received various emails from haters, or women saying they’re pregnant with my babies, but mostly curses, calling me names, and some were death threats. This weekend was the worst. I thought she was just like any of those women who wanted my picture. We even laughed at her behavior.

The next morning, my faces were all over tabloids, internet gossip sites, stating that I let the underage woman get drunk. I found out she was a starlet, and maybe she needed a big break in Hollywood.

She probably gets a break now. I don’t like to be on the front page for misbehavior, especially when it’s nothing but lies. It pissed me off.

After 16 hours of work every day on weekdays, I always want a good weekend. It means a few drinks with friends and an hour of fuck-in fuck-out. There were always willing pussies for a mind-blowing orgasm. Just an hour—nothing more, nothing less. No names, no numbers, no cuddling, no foreplay, no second round fuck. When I’m done, I’m done.

I don’t do relationships—it only complicates life. I don’t dine and wine—I don’t date, ever. I don’t fuck in my place, and never invited women in, and one of my rules is to never fuck drunk. I love sex don’t get me wrong, but it’s just pure sex—no intimacies and no strings attached.

I ask my PA for some Tylenol. The most reliable PA on earth. I love Elle. She never gossips about my life. I never ask her to take or bring my dry clean or get me coffee. I make coffee on my own or bring coffee by myself.

She gets inside with a bottle of Tylenol and grabs a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. She hands it to me, and I swallow two tablets and follow with a huge gulp of water.

/"Ridi-fucking-culous! The meeting today was a waste of time. I want to be invisible sometimes or just let the floor swallow me whole,/" I say, massaging my aching temples.