Malra part 2

LIACH POV

I expect to be summoned. After all, it's not every day you beat a mafia prince's favorite 'slut' into the ground in front of his entire security wing.

What I don't expect is the silence.

Why is no one saying anything.

I haven't received any reprimand. Nor a warning from anyone.

Every one was quiet, everything was just... stillness. Even Marek doesn't mention it, and he always has something to say.

That tells me one thing. Sinveer saw it. And he lets it happen.

I was at my desk the next morning reviewing next shipment manifests when the call comes through the intercom.

"Liach come over here. The voice is clipped, an a little bit cold.

I smooth my skirt, tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, preparing myself as I walk into the lion's den.

When I get inside, Sinveer is standing by the window, back turn to the entrance, staring out over the city like he owns it. Maybe he actually does. And that's the problem.

He doesn't turn as I step in.

"Close the door," he says.

I did. The silence stretches as I remain standing, waiting for him to speak.

Finally, he speaks.

"Marla has a fractured wrist, three bruised ribs, and a concussion."

Is he going to get angry at me for touching his 'doll'? How am I going to calm this down?

Wait.

What am I thinking? If he is angry, it would have been yesterday. so this is just for formality.

Trying to act offended I reply, "Sir she did somethings I can't tolerate."

"What could that possibly be, for you to touch my woman?

"She talks shit about me, so I responded, Sir." I answered in a leveled voice

He places his palms over his face. As if he is concealing his expression.

"What did she say?" He asks.

"Sir, I don't think you should know about this."

"Liach!"

"That we are fucking, Sir."

He lifts one of his brow up, a smile appearing and disappearing at the side of his face in one second.

Before he turns, slowly, like a king deciding whether to kill or crown his subject. "And what kind of response was that, Liach? Military-grade assault?"

Did he not hear what I just said? About us? Fucking?

"I'm sorry Sir but she got in my face, and I put her back in her place." I say, trying to hide that I'm now tired of this conversation.

He keeps watching me. His face unreadable. Then—he smiles.

A smile that says, you are amusing Liach.

"You really don't give a fuck about what you do, do you?"

"I do, Sir. But not to people who treat me less."

He chuckles, fascinated by my response.

"You can go back to your desk. I'm sorry about what she did."

Huh? He let me go just like that and with an apology? Wasn't expecting that... certainly not feeling him.

"Yes Sir, thank you."

As I was working on the schedule and new plans Sinveer and I discussed about after he called me into his office later this morning, Marek walks in with an envelope in hand, hurrily. For a long time they talked. Nothing but murmuring echoing from the office. After a while their mumbles became clearer.

"The Kastro engagement gala is in four days," Marek says. "If you show up alone again, it'll look weak. Or worse—like you're unbalanced."

"I'm not bringing Marla." Sinveer countered.

"Didn't ask you to. I don't even know why you keep that whore around." You could hear the disgust in Marek voice.

"I'm bringing no one then. I don't have any lady to take along." Sinveer says, his voice loud.

There was a pause.

"What about your assistant, Boss?"

My fingers freeze over the keyboard as I was mentioned.

"She's polish. Could know how to act. Smart enough to stay quiet, and also has the looks."

"Liach?" Sinveer asks.

He sounds.... surprised.

"And besides she's already on the payroll," Marek continues. "And you don't have a woman in your life. No one. Seriously, she's the best option."

"What about if we paid someone to stand in instead?"

"No" there was a hint of frustration in Marek tone. "Then what next? They'd look for your dick to suck out your cum?"

There was another pause. But this time the silence was longer.

Then Sinveer says something… something very insulting. "What if she messes up? Even as a placeholder, she could turn out useless in these kind of settings."

"Even if she did turns out useless, she's serving as an arm decoration. To occupy an empty space." Marek added.

Surprisingly it hurts my pride.

What a joke. Exactly what I hate the most.

I shift my attention back to my work, brushing off the annoyance brewing within me. After what seems like an hour, Marek walks out, stop at my desk and informs me, Sinveer has sent for me.

"We have a function, Friday. You'll be coming with me." Sinveer says dryly, not looking from his desk.

I keep my face blank.

"Yes, sir."

"It's black tie. You'll be expected to behave accordingly."

"I understand sir." I nod. " Anything else sir?"

He hesitated for a moment, shift his gaze from the table and stares at me.

"Some may assume we're involved. Let them."

"I'm sorry Sir, but I can't do that."

"And why is that?" He questions.

What can I tell him? Hmm, think. Aha!

"I've a boyfriend Sir, and he wouldn't be happy about such rumours.

"A boyfriend, huh? It does matter, he'll have to understand that you're working. Or is he too dense he can't do that?" He asks, face motionless.

My teeth clench behind my polite smile. "Understood, Sir."

He doesn't look at me after that. Just turns away like I should be leaving.

I spend the next three days preparing for the Gala, not because they want me to, but because I have to show Sinveer I'm not just some placeholder or useless in anything I do.

I have no intention of being just a stand-in. If I'm going to wear the label, I'll make it unforgettable.

I commission a gown—blood red, silk, slit to the thigh, with a neckline that borders on indecency. My hair is going to be sleek and sharp. Makeup like war paint. I thought as I prepare to steal the show

I'll look like—sin incarnate. I'll look as a woman who doesn't belong on anyone's arm. But could ruin a man for pretending she does.