Chapter 1

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Dedicated to Sakshidshah24


I glared at the hole of the pneumatic tube before pulling out the piece of paper.


Get me file 5764XV8

Rikkard Ambrose

Blast that man to hell! He had not let me sit down for more than fifteen seconds before asking for another file, and needless to say that running back and forth again and again like a broken machine did not do well with my, no, generous derrière.

Blast that cold hearted miser! I'm sure that the block of granite would not be even reading those files before asking for another! I hope he chokes on them!

Reaching for the file on my tiptoes, I muttered a few unladylike words under my breath before sliding it under the door. I glared some more at the locked door, which had not been opened in my presence since the day before yesterday. I had not seen him since the last two days, which, if truth be told, had led to this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Every now and then my thoughts would come and stop on him and if it was not the miser, cold hearted block of granite Mr. Rikkard Ambrose then one would have certainly thought that I missed him.

'Missed him? Gah! No way in hell would Lilly Linton, proud and independent suffragist would miss a man, that too Mr. Ambrose!' I reminded myself.

'What was to be missed about him, his arctic glare? Or the way his little finger twitched when he got agitated? Or his cold,mysteriously beautiful sea green eyes that looked into the depths of her soul and pulled me in, everytime they met mine?'

No, nononono. Cancel that last thought of yours, I scolded myself. You are an independent, capable and suffragist woman who hates that bloody chauvinist miser, who just happened to be my employer. I tolerate him only because he had to sign my paycheck at the end of every month, willingly or unwillingly and thus help me to be independent of all the stupid men thinking that I would ever give up my freedom to be permanently bound to one of them.

Now, do you, Lilly? Wouldn't you just love it if you could both keep your freedom as well as be bound the bloody chauvinist miser, right in the next room?

No, no, don't be silly. Of course I don't. Of course I don't want to be bound to any man, especially the bloody selfish, coldhearted, granite headed, chauvinist miser in the next room. He could go bloody well go to hell for all I care.

But you can't lie to your own self, now, can you? You do know that you care.

I don't care.

You do.



Oh, shut the hell up! This blasted voice in my head was getting too much on my nerves to be tolerated anymore.

My rather important conversation with my inner mind was rudely interrupted by a knock on the door. The door of my office, I am rather proud to say, as a room of my own recognised by all as something private. My chest swelled with pride as I answered," Come in."

The door opened and in came a gentleman in a black tailcoat and a handkerchief in his hands, which he kept on using to wipe his sweating on his face.He was a rather short man and a round one at that, but what caught my attention was the evident anxiety and nervousness as his eyes darted to and forth from my face to his surroundings, as if he expected someone to jump out from thin air and attack him. Or rather looking as unwilling to enter this office as if he was carrying news of a financial loss to Mr. Ambrose. Now that would be a terryfying thing to happen indeed, and I would definitely not like to be on the recieving end of what punishment might be dished out by him.

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