Impossible To Resist (z.m au) NOT MINE!!

Chapter 4

gif of Zayn

Chapter -4-

"Where are the drinks?" Aimee harshly whispers into my ear the next morning.

We were currently in the sound proof conference room, waiting for the clock to strike 10:00. I was given no information what so ever, so I have no clue as to why this meeting was called, but it's best just to go with the flow in this business. I actually don't even know why I'm even here, I usually don't attend meetings, I've only been to like four so far.

"They will be delivered exactly at 10," I whisper back to her, clutching my clipboard to my chest.

I stand in the corner of the room, admiring the large table in the center of the room. Lining it's perimeter, sat multiple special black chairs, designed for comfort when sat in, and very stylish, and highly professional roller chairs. According to Camille, they are from Germany or something and they cost a fortune to obtain.

At the end of the rectangular table, was a giant screen, used for overseas conference calls.

I noticed something odd though, every seat was taken up, except for one on the corner. Mr. Malik usually sits in front of the TV screen (at the end of the table), but when he does there is a chair there, if he is standing, like today, there isn't a chair.  You would think Aimee would get a chair for herself, but in reality, she just hangs out in the corners, taking note of everything being said, and making sure everything goes as planned. She really devotes her entire life to this company.

"Aimee," I ask softly, "Why is that chair next to Mr. Malik empty? Are we expecting anyone else—"

"Not right now, Mia," Aimee snaps, right as the boss walks in. For a minute I actually feel bad for Aimee, seeing as her boss didn't even so much as give her a welcoming glance. "Mia," she whispers, turning to me, her blue/grey eyes piercing into my own, "Anything heard in this meeting, stays in this room? Ok? Your just here to make help me make sure everything runs smoothly, and take care of the files, and just help me when I need you. Don't ask any questions, do not speak out of turn, in fact just make sure no one realizes that your here. Try to tune out everything but me, and if you can't... Try to forget, do you understand me?" Aimee hisses, making my mind start spinning in confusion.

Before I can even reply, she walks across the room, to Mr. Malik and I watch her engage in a quiet conversation. His dark eyes glance towards my direction, startling me a bit, and then pretty soon Aimee's own steel colored eyes look my way as well... Why couldn't I shake the feeling they were both talking about me?

Aimee then scampers off to the side as Mr. Malik starts the meeting, using big words, and lots of hand gestures. Thankfully, the drinks arrived right at the starting time, which no doubt wiped a load off of Aimee, I'll have to be sure to thank them later.

Despite Aimee's odd warning, I couldn't help but listen in.

"Good morning everyone, I am so pleased to see that you all could make it. Usually I would continue on a little bit, about how  my day was going, and ask you how your day was going, before getting to business, however! I am not going to do that today. Can anyone tell me why?" he asks, looking around the room.

Nobody answered.

"MAX!" Mr. Malik screams pointing at him. "Max" was the man in the blue polka dot die, sitting farthest away from Mr. Malik. "I bet you know."

The mans sudden tension of his muscles stood out to me immediately.

"Because you want to talk about how our stock crashed last week," Max says shakily under his breath.

"Because our stock crashed last week!" repeats Malik, only 10 times louder. "Exactly! Now, can someone tell me why it crashed?" he yells, making me extremely nervous at his harsh tone.

Suddenly Aimee is next to me, which startled me even more. "Mr. Jones, silver tie, his glass is empty. Make sure to keep the champagne coming, and leave the bottle for him, he is a lot more... Cooperative when he has... A few drinks in him," she whispers to me. "And in 10 minutes time, get Mr. Malik his usual, please."

"Yes, Miss Blue," I reply, walking to the little cart that the waiters had left behind. The top of the cart was actually a tray, and it was filled with ice, and three bottles of champagne. I quickly grabbed a flute glass, along with the bottle, thankfully, the waiters were smart enough this time to remove the cork first, and then cover it with special caps. I quickly opened the cap, and walked to Mr. Jones, and quietly set down the new glass, and filled it to the appropriate amount, left the bottle and grabbed his old glass, taking it back to the cart and sticking it on the dish tray under it.

"Wrong," Mr. Malik says to the first person who took a guess at his question. "Can anyone else tell me, WHY THE HELL, it crashed?! And hello Zayn, so nice of you to join us," he says, his sentence running into his greeting. My eyes shot towards the door, where sure enough, Zayn had stepped in, and was silently making his way towards the empty chair. Well that explains it who we were missing... Funny his name wasn't printed on the list. He must  have been a last minute addition.

"Could you tell me why my stock crashed last week?" he asks quietly, although everyone in the room could most likely taste the venom in his voice. I know I could, and I'm way back here, I can't even imagine how Zayn feels, having his dad hounding him.

"Because a reporter and journalist by the name of Annie Todd looked into one of our fundings, and found something she thought was worth sharing," Zayn replies. "When the public heard, they didn't approve of what we were supposedly doing, and backed out their shares."

"THANK YOU! FINALLY SOMEONE WHO LISTENS!" Exclaims Mr. Malik. "Now, the main reason you are all here today, is because I want to know, how the bloody hell this 'Annie Todd' got ahold of this information. According to my assistant, Miss Blue, and myself, along with everyone else who is apart of this company, should know that information such as the the kind Miss Todd received, is locked away from the public, and ESPECIALLY from reporters. Can someone tell me what happened last time a reporter got ahold of classified information?"

"O-One of our divisions got shut down, sir."

"Not just any division! A division that cost me over one billion dollars! Who can remember this reporter's name?"

"Jamie Sonenclar," Zayn replies. "She not only wrote the article that shut down one of our most thriving divisions two years ago, but she also started diving deep into our companies history, and started doing more research, which only caused more problems."

"Correct Zayn. However, as you may or may not know, Miss Sonenclar isn't a problem for us anymore, we took care of her, and I made sure of that personally."

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"But that doesn't matter," Mr. Malik continues.

"What does matter.... Is that we have a new target."