chapter 3

Emma had barely gotten any sleep. Working late on the files had left her exhausted, and now her head ached while her eyelids felt impossibly heavy. Since last night, she had drowned herself in countless cups of coffee just to stay awake, but now, fatigue had completely overtaken her. Surrendering, she let her head rest on the table, intending to take just a short break—but she didn't even realize when sleep claimed her.

John had just returned from a meeting and was heading to his office when, in passing, his gaze fell on Emma's cubicle. She was sitting there, head down on her desk, breathing softly. He instantly knew she was asleep.

He walked into her cubicle and tapped the table lightly with his fingers, intending to wake her. When she didn't react, he knocked harder this time.

Emma jolted awake, her brown eyes immediately locking onto John's piercing blue ones. For a moment, her breath hitched—there was something unsettling in his gaze, something that made her nervous. Unable to hold his stare, she quickly looked away.

John, who had initially walked in to reprimand her, suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He had meant to scold her, but as soon as his gaze met hers, his thoughts scattered. He didn't know why, but those weary brown eyes left an odd impact on him.

Someone else in the office also witnessed this moment carefully.

Clearing his throat, John masked whatever had flashed through his mind. "Ms. Emma, come to my office in five minutes."

As soon as John left, reality crashed down on Emma. She immediately understood why she had been summoned.

"It's okay, Emma… these days are just rough," she muttered to herself, sighing. She hurried to the restroom to freshen up, trying to shake off the sleepiness.

Meanwhile, inside his office, John paced back and forth, visibly agitated.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered under his breath. He was annoyed at himself for losing focus—even for a second.

The memory of those eyes flashed again in his mind, making him push his hair back in frustration. He didn't like the distraction.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Come in," he said, taking his seat.

Emma entered, standing stiffly as John, without looking up, motioned for her to sit. She hesitantly took a seat.

"So, Ms. Emma, tell me—what would you like to eat or drink?" he asked, his voice serious.

Emma, expecting to be scolded, blinked in confusion at the unexpected question.

"No… nothing, sir. Thank you," she responded, even though she was starving.

John leaned back in his chair, a mocking smirk playing at his lips. "Why not? Isn't this a hotel? People come here to relax or take naps, right?"

Emma instantly understood that he was being sarcastic.

"Y-yes… I mean, no, sir." She quickly corrected herself when she saw the warning look in his eyes.

John's expression turned sharp. "Ms. Emma, as long as you work here, you will maintain discipline. I do not tolerate negligence."

Emma could only nod in response, sensing that anything she said would only make things worse.

Her silent compliance was unexpected—John found himself momentarily amused by it. But he quickly masked it.

"As for the assignment I gave you…" He leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk. "As a penalty, I want it completed and submitted—by tomorrow."

Emma's mouth fell open in shock. "Sir, tomorrow? That's impossible—"

"If you can't handle it, let me know now. There are plenty of other candidates eager to take this position."

His words hit their mark. Emma clenched her jaw.

"I'll submit it tomorrow," she said firmly.

"Good." John dismissed her with a slight nod, picking up a file.

As she walked out, John subtly looked up, watching her leave.

He didn't know why, but today… he was reminded of the Emma he had first met.

Shaking off the thought, he refocused on his work.

---

Chaos Ensues

Back at her desk, Emma furiously typed away at her laptop, still fuming over John's unreasonable demand.

She was so lost in her frustration that she didn't notice someone standing beside her chair—until a shadow fell over her keyboard.

Looking up, she found herself staring into a pair of mischievous green eyes.

"Hi, I'm Derek. And you are?" the man introduced himself with a charming smile.

Emma, uninterested in his presence, turned back to her screen without responding.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Angry Bird? What's wrong?"

Still, she ignored him.

Seeing no other way to get her attention, Derek reached over and turned off her laptop screen.

Emma froze.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she slowly turned her head toward him—pure, unfiltered rage burning in her eyes.

"You were saying something?" Derek asked casually, as if he hadn't just sabotaged all her work.

Sleep deprivation. John's constant torment. And now this?

Something inside Emma snapped.

Without a second thought, she grabbed the nearby cup of now-cold coffee and emptied it over Derek's head.

The office fell silent.

Emma crossed her arms, smirking. "Still wanna know something?"

To her shock, Derek simply wiped the coffee off his face… and then smiled.

Instead of getting angry, he looked genuinely entertained.

Confused by his reaction, Emma stared at him, trying to decipher what kind of lunatic she was dealing with.

"See you around," Derek said with a grin, before walking away like nothing had happened.

Emma's jaw clenched.

"Idiot." She muttered under her breath and turned her laptop back on. Thankfully, she had saved a backup file earlier.

Otherwise, she would have had to redo everything—something she couldn't afford if she wanted to keep this job.

---

An Unwanted Call

Hoor was arranging her clothes in the cupboard when she heard a phone ringing.

She picked up her own phone, but it wasn't her call. The ringing continued.

Curious, she followed the sound and entered the lounge, where her mother's phone lay on the table, vibrating.

"Oh, Mom left her phone at home," she mumbled, picking it up.

The ringing stopped.

Just as she was about to put it down, the phone rang again—this time from an unknown number.

After a moment of hesitation, she answered but remained silent.

"…Hello?"

A deep, smooth voice came from the other end, sending a jolt through her chest.

That voice…

She knew that voice.

Even in a crowd of thousands, she would recognize it.

"Assalamu Alaikum," she quickly greeted, composing herself.

"…Is Rukhsana Phuppho there?"

"Mom isn't home right now. She left her phone behind," Hoor replied.

There was a pause.

The man on the other end sighed. "…Tell her that Ahal wants to speak to her."

And then, he hung up.

Hoor remained still, the phone pressed against her ear, as if trying to hold onto the voice that had just disappeared.

---

John vs. Derek – The Ultimate Headache

John was immersed in his work when Derek, carrying his usual smugness, strolled into his office.

"Someone's been thinking about me all morning," Derek said, flopping into the chair across from John.

John didn't even bother looking up. "Your stupidity forces people to remember you."

Derek chuckled. "Well, John, I like that you think about me all the time."

John exhaled sharply, barely suppressing his irritation. "Because of you, I was late today."

Derek shrugged. "Life gets boring if you don't stir things up once in a while."

John finally glanced up at him—and immediately frowned.

"What the hell happened to you? Did you take a bath in coffee today?"

Derek groaned, dramatically running a hand through his now stiff, coffee-stained hair. "How many maniacs do you have working here?"

John smirked. "None before. But now..."

Derek grinned. "Don't worry, now that I'm here, I'll straighten everyone out."

John raised a brow. "Who exactly are you talking about?"

Derek stretched lazily, smirking. "Oh, the one who was sleeping at her desk when you woke her up."

John's expression stiffened slightly.

"When did you come?" he asked, his voice suddenly serious.

Derek grinned like a cat that had caught the canary. "When God said, 'Go, Derek, the world needs you.'"

John's jaw tightened. "DEREK!!!"

That tone—sharp, commanding, laced with warning—was enough to make most people stumble over their words. But Derek? He thrived on provoking.

"It's fun when my name echoes around like a divine chant," he said, standing up and stretching as if unfazed.

John clenched his fists, knowing full well he wouldn't get a straight answer now. His glare turned deadly.

Derek, ever the devil, leaned closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't look at me with so much love, John. My eyes are green, not brown."

John's worst fear had come true—Derek had seen everything.

"Out," John ordered, his patience snapping.

Derek burst into laughter, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'm going."

Just as he reached the door, he turned back with a teasing smirk. "By the way, when should I visit the office again?"

John, who was trying to cool his temper, shot up from his seat with a murderous look.

Seeing this, Derek bolted out of the room.

It was a good thing, too.

Because at that moment, John looked more than ready to personally make the world a Derek-free place.

---