The CEO's Kryptonite ⚣ ✓

01

As soon as Joan was able to correctly breathe again, she lead us back into our usual string of gossip. "You hear about Janice up on the fifth floor? Fired. Just like that."

I looked back at Joan with an arched eyebrow. "Well.. fuck. Wasn't this only like her second week here?"

"Yep. This'll make her his 23rd assistant of this year. I swear the guy's fucking batshit." Joan shook her head in disapproval.

"Could you guys keep your voices down? It's like big brother in here. He's always watching." Derek muttered.

"I don't know how you do it, Alex."

"Do what?"

"Care so little about he who shall not be named." Joan muttered.

I chuckled at that. "I don't see him. He doesn't see me. We don't have an issue. In fact, I've surprisingly never had to answer a single I.T. problem from the fifth floor. The only reason I even know what this guy looks like is because his face is quite literally plastered everywhere."

We all glanced up at the huge portrait of the guy, that was hung on the wall furthest from the elevator. There was one on literally every floor.

Christian fucking Ivanov, man. Who knew someone could be this full of himself.

"He probably just buys new shit once the old shit starts to lose functionality. Everything is disposable to people like him." Joan joked, but there was truth to her words.

"You guys are out here conversing real recklessly like you aren't trying to keep this job." Derek shot over his shoulder as he logged himself back in to the now working computer. I gave them both a shrug.

"It's time for me to head back to my own floor. The first floor. The sane floor." I gave Joan a wink as I finished packing up my stuff.

"We still on for drinks at six?" She asked.

"Let's push it to seven, I gotta finish testing out some new devices." I called out on my way to the elevators.

"Sounds good, baby. Hang in there today! I'll make sure to keep Derek off those damn porn websites!"

My face broke out into the biggest grin. I heard a few laughs erupt from the rest of the floor. If everyone didn't know Derek's little problem before, they sure as hell knew it now.

Christian

"That's unacceptable. They can't back out from this deal now."

Christian...
Breathe...
Don't lose it, I thought to myself.

"You told their negotiator to go straighten his life out. That he was about as useful as an ashtray on a motorcycle. Lastly, you proceeded to comment in an expert amount of ways on why everything he was wearing was cheaper than the bandaids you use and their company was like a one ply generic brand of toilet paper... unreliable." Brad spoke as he tossed the file back onto the table.

My hands were gripping the armrests so tight, I thought I might rip them off completely.

I'd fucked up. I'd really fucked up.

"You can't just lose your shit every time something starts to go south, Christian. The company is taking hits for your explosive personality."

"Don't think your not expendable, Brad." I snapped.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, and I softened my eyes a bit.

"Sorry man. I didn't mean that. This whole thing has been stressing me the hell out." I ran my hands through my now very messy hair.

"Mr. Ivanov!" A woman burst into the room flustered, not moments later. It took both Brad and I, by surprise.

"What in the absolute fucking hell-" I started, but the words she said next shut me up immediately.

"I have Mr. Larington on the line for you!" She blurted out before exiting my office just as quickly as she had entered it.

I had questions. Like first off: Who the fuck was that chick?

Second: Where the fuck was my actual assistant?

But those questions were going to have to wait. I picked up the phone so fast, I ended up knocking coffee all over the laptop on my desk.

"Jesus, Christian." Brad sighed, but I aggressively hushed him as soon as the phone reached my ear.

"This is Mr. Ivanov." I rushed out.

"Hello, Mr. Ivanov. This is Mr. Harris, Larington's Assistant. He's currently in a meeting and is unavailable, so I've been asked to step in. I'm sorry to inform you that while Larrington has received your message-... messages. All twenty-seven of them... We stand by our initial decision in refusing the deal. You have yourself a great rest of your day, Mr. Ivanov... and please stop calling."

Before I could get a single word out, the line went dead. It took me a minute to process what had just happened, but when I finally did, I felt the all too familiar burning sensation.

The anger slowly starting to bubble up inside of me.

"Christian..." Brad spoke quietly.

But it was too late.

I. Fucking. Lost it.

"That piece of fucking shit! How the fuck dare he just have his goddamn motherfucking secretary pick up the goddamn motherfucking phone. His little bitch self didn't have the fucking balls to say that shit to my face, god fucking damn it!" I slammed the phone down so hard it toppled over and off the table.

Then I shoved the coffee soaked laptop off the table as well.

Then I picked it up off the floor.

Then I slammed it down again.

Then I stomped on it. Repeatedly.

Brad had to finally pull me away before I could get my hands on anything else. "Calm down, Christian!" He scolded. "That barely even made any sense, my god."

When I did finally cool down, all I could do was stare at the laptop that was completely smashed to pieces. "Did you clear everything out from this one?" Brad asked me with a sigh. It was alarming how used to my outbursts he had gotten.

As realization trickled in, my hands went up to massage my temples. "Fuck." I whispered. "There's some saved documents on their. Important ones..."

"Don't sweat it, I'll get our I.T. guy on it." Brad shrugged.

I glanced over at him with my eyebrows furrowed. "We got an I.T. guy?"

Brad looked at me like I was one serious fucking idiot.

"You do know your the head of a corporation, right? Not a bar or a run down pawn shop or something. A corporation. Now functioning corporation is up for debate, but yes. This is a company. We've got an I.T. guy."

I gave him a look that said 'don't push it.' His hands shot up in the air in defeat.

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