Falling for the Beast: A modern fairytale romance Read online

  I shook my head, “No. I won’t let that happen, daddy. Maybe we can plead with him, outside of court, and agree to a better settlement. I mean, you guys are still trying to recover the information and repair the database so it’s not like everything’s gone.”

  “He wouldn’t even speak with me,” my father said. “I only got to speak with the Vice President, Carl Herbert.”

  “No, I won’t settle for that,” I wasn’t going to let Rousseau just trample on my father and all he worked for. “Just rest up, daddy, I’ll take care of this. I’ll go in and speak with him first thing tomorrow morning before I head over to work.”

  My father shook his head and waved his hands, “N-no, I shouldn’t let you handle my problems, sweetie.”

  “Daddy,” I held his hands tightly. “It’s nothing, I promise. I know you and the company will have to fix what broke but we can’t let Rousseau’s firm just step on you like that. I’ll just try to negotiate something reasonable.”

  He finally relented and allowed me to help him up and get on the bed. I took one of the spare blankets, tucked him in and then kissed him goodnight. Finally, I headed to my own room and plopped on the bed. Exhausted, I wanted to sleep but I couldn’t stop thinking about the task now ahead of me. I decided to just turn on my TV and watch one of the cooking channels until I finally dozed off.

  The Beast

  The very next day I stopped my father from going to work. I called his secretary and told them I’ll be heading to Rousseau’s office to speak with him on my father’s behalf. I then had to call Ruben and let him know that I was going to be a little bit late but I was going to get the work done. The task he gave me yesterday was so easy I could do it in my sleep anyway.

  My father slept through the morning but I cooked him breakfast anyway and just kept it covered on the kitchen table. I then took a shower, put on a black tee-shirt and a pair of jeans. I put these on because I didn’t want to hear any of my co-workers bitch about what I had on today.

  I didn’t even bother checking my phone. I knew Aiden had probably sent a dozen text and voice messages. He already started last night by sending me a few pictures – some of them half naked just to show off his abs – and by the third message I was already a little fatigued from his constant nuisance.

  The drive to the Rousseau Stock Firm didn’t take too long. Surprisingly it was just a few blocks away from my own office. If traffic really got bad later I could just walk back to work.

  “Hello, I’m here to speak to Mr. Rousseau,” I told the lady at the reception desk.

  She looked at me like I just said the dumbest thing in the world and then looked me over like I was some homeless kid. “Uh, sure, do you have an appointment? If you don’t could you please move away so I could attend to the more important guests?”

  I nodded and explained further, trying my best to ignore how she just stared down at me, “I do have an appointment. It’s scheduled for eight AM to a Mr. Maurice Verdandi. Maurice is sick right now and I’m coming in his stead. I’m his daughter, Bella Verdandi.”

  The receptionist pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow in doubt. I watched as she typed away on the keyboard and looked through the scheduled meetings for the day. I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy inside when I saw her face twist in shock the moment she saw I was telling her the truth.

  “O-oh, I see you’re right,” she tried to save herself from the humiliation. “Go on ahead down the hall and take the elevator to the fifty-seventh floor. From there, go down the hall and take the stairs up to the sixtieth floor. Mr. Rousseau’s office is only one up there so it’s impossible to miss.”

  “Make sure you check the schedule before you tell someone to fuck off,” I told her straight and without lowering my voice before I marched off to the elevator down the hall. She stared at me with a blank look that either meant she wasn’t expecting my reply or she felt the burn from being so wrong.

  The elevator at the end of the hall turned out to be a freaking maze. There were so many of them I wasn’t sure if they all led to the same floors. None of them seemed to be color-coded or labeled differently so I assumed they were all the same. I took the nearest one that had no one else riding it and checked the available floors. The buttons did show for floor fifty-seven so I tapped it and waited.

  My ride up was more uneventful than I had thought. Only twice did someone else get in but the first passenger got off at the twenty-second floor and the other stopped at the thirty-fifth. I was the only one heading up to the top.

  The fifty-seventh floor, I discovered, was filled with large conference rooms. Many of them were in use and had a sign board requesting for total silence. It was fortunate for me that the floors were carpeted and that I went with sneakers today instead of high heels.

  I had to walk a bit to reach the end of the floor and find the stairway up to the next floor. I was expecting a narrow, service stair shaft but instead I found an elegant, almost Victorian-era staircase that was wide and layered with expensive wood, gold and ivory.

  “Woah,” I uttered softly to myself as I made my way up. The next floor looked like more of the same and things didn’t really change until I got to the sixtieth floor. From the staircase I walked up into a large foyer to meet guests and it looked more like an area I’d find in a big manor or condominium. There was a single glass door – which seemed bullet-proof – and a buzzer.

  “Well, I guess this is the only way forward,” I said to myself as I walked over to the buzzer and pressed on it. Almost immediately a voice responded and it was then that I noticed the small holes by the buzzer. That must be where the microphone and speakers were installed.

  “Hello, the receptionist told me you were coming up,” greeted the deepest, sexiest male voice I had ever heard. It was like the voices of Vin Diesel and James Earl Jones had blended somehow just for the sole purpose of making my knees weak. “I’ll unlock the door so go ahead and step right in.”

  At that moment I heard a whirl and a click at the glass door. I opened it and walked in through a short hall. At the very end was a regular, white wooden door. It felt a little overkill to have two different doors but for a man as rich as Mr. Rousseau I guess it made sense. There were too many crazy people these days and any of them could try to break in and rob him or maybe I my imagination was getting the best of me.

  When I opened that one I found myself walking into the most beautiful living room I had ever seen. There were three large, black leather couches and a white fur carpet underneath it. There was a genuine fireplace close by and it was crackling with a flame. There were several shelves displaying photos and numerous books. A small set of stairs led to an elevated kitchen and dining room. I saw the main office was off to the right and to the left was what I assumed to be Mr. Rousseau’s personal quarters. He literally had a home built in with his office.

  Mr. Rousseau himself, however, was nowhere in sight. Unsure of what to do I just stood by the entrance and waited.

  It was a good thing I did because just a few moments later he came down from his office wing and greeted me with a wave. Almost instantly, as in the very moment my eyes laid upon him, I felt a little queasy. If Aiden was the ideal model then Mr. Rousseau was the embodiment of raw manliness. He was tall – probably six-foot-five or six-foot-six – and had the body of a beast. Even in his business suit I could see how tightly the fabric clung to his body and it was like a single flex of his muscles could rip them all apart. He was a like a lion or a bear.

  No… he was a wolf. He had long black hair that was neatly brushed backwards, down to his nape, and a newly trimmed beard. When I got to look at his eyes they were bright blue, like the ocean on a sunny day and just as deep.

  “Hello,” he greeted again and walked up to me to shake my hands. His grip was crushing, to say the least. “Come, take a seat. I get you’re meeting on behalf of your father.”

  I nodded and took a seat opposite him on one of the couches. I felt a sudden w
armth fill me up from the inside when I saw how massive he was up close and the smell – oh God, the smell! – was driving me insane! He smelled so good I thought I was going to melt right then and there.

  “Y-yes,” I stuttered and right there I wanted to stop and slap myself awake. I shouldn’t let his presence push me down. “I was just hoping we could negotiate a deal, out of court, to lessen the blow on my father’s company. I know it was one of his employees that screwed up but if you make them pay for everything he’ll have to shut his company down, declare bankruptcy and lose everything he ever worked for. You’re already a billionaire; the sting won’t hurt you much but it will absolutely destroy my father.”

  Well, that was a little more straight-forward than I had hoped for. I had planned to weave my intentions in throughout the course of a conversation but simply looking at him or sitting by him made me feel nervous.

  Even Mr. Rousseau seemed a little taken aback due to my choice of words. However, he didn’t say anything immediately and took a moment to rub his chin and ponder. He combed his fingers through his mane of a hair and then looked at me, studying me almost.

  I felt a little awkward with him staring at me. It wasn’t like how most men stared at me – it wasn’t perverted although I still felt naked in front of him. His gaze was more intimidating than it was sensual and I felt like a doe about to be pounced upon by a wolf in the wild.

  As his eyes roamed across the vastness of my form I felt a heavy knot form in my gut. My heart sank a little and I felt a strange blend of warmth and coldness ball inside my chest. It was a strange mixture of emotions that I could not explain. I didn’t know if I felt good or bad about being here, alone with Mr. Rousseau.

  Finally he snapped his fingers and shattered the silence between us, “Okay. I can agree to wiping the slate clean with your father but in one condition.”

  “What condition?” I asked, both hopefully and nervously.

  “You’re a programmer, yes, like your father?” he asked.

  I nodded back and elaborated, “Yes but in different fields. He’s a web developer and I focus on making mobile apps.”

  “Good,” he then said. “I will let your father go, free from the fees and other punishments, as long as he agrees to recover as much as he and his team can. He must also finish the job they started and more importantly… I want you to work for me.”

  My head exploded with that notion and I looked back at him, “Wait, what? What do you mean I have to work for you?”

  He looked at me like my reaction meant nothing and just continued on, “You will work for me and my company, developing new apps specifically for our needs. I will buy you out from your current company – the money is no issue there. From this point on until your father’s task is complete you are, in a sense, mine.”

  Now my heart sank and it sank deep. I felt so weak I thought I was going to faint.

  “W-wait, don’t I have a say in this?” I asked.

  He shook his head, “You can deny me this request and walk out the door but I will pursue legal charges against your father’s company if you do so.”

  The wolf was luring me in with his poisonous bait and here I was ready to bite.

  “Fine then,” I answered with all the courage I could muster. I’d rather throw myself in with this beast than to let my father rot in jail. “I am your employee now. I will work and do as you bid just promise me you won’t pursue any further charges against my father.”

  Mr. Rousseau nodded and got up. He walked over, like a menacing alpha beast, and headed into his private little kitchen where he quickly brewed a cup of coffee. He didn’t offer me one and I wasn’t going to ask for one either. I just waited, cowering in the couch, as I waited for him to return to his seat.

  He waited a while, took a few sips, and eyed me carefully. After what felt like eternity he then asked, “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-one,” I told him.

  For the first time since we met his face cracked with a big smile. His teeth were perfect and yet the menacing aura of his demeanor didn’t waver one bit. In fact, the fear and uneasiness I got from him seemed to grow.

  “I’m thirty-three, you know, but I am not too old perhaps,” he said. I couldn’t tell if he was being intentionally perverted or if he was completely unaware of the creepy implications his words. He continued on, stating, “Do not worry; I can guarantee you I will pay you even more than what your company pays you now. You will shadow me most of the time, however. You will go where I go. You will know everything I know so that you can build the best app for us and our clients.”

  That didn’t sound so much like a bad plan. What could go wrong, right? I’d have a new job, get to be in a new environment and it would prevent my dad from getting in jail. Sure, the man I’d be around for the better part of my days was a total beast but I figured I could get used to it. He scared the living daylights out of me but I’d have to adjust to that.

  “How will you explain this to my current employer?” I asked him. Ruben was going to be pissed and nothing good could result from that.

  Mr. Rousseau just smirked and said, “I will take care of that. I guarantee you he will not be able to resist. I will let you go home today, relax and prepare for your new job. Tomorrow the real task begins. I will go out as well, perhaps this noon, to explain the circumstances to your employer. Then tonight, we will dine.”

  “What? You just forced me to work for you and now you want to have dinner with me?” I was a little bit in a whirlwind of how all these things were transpiring around me.

  Out of nowhere he slammed a fist down on the coffee table and I felt the blood drain from me. My face went pale with fear and I looked back at him. Mr. Rousseau was almost frothing in frustration and to make matters worse it was all so sudden.

  “You will dine with me or you will not have anything at all,” he pointed out. He was so frustrated that he was chewing his words as he spoke.

  Caught completely unaware, I simply nodded and said, “O-okay, Mr. Rousseau. I’ll leave you my number and address. J-just contact me when we’re going to meet for dinner.”

  He then calmed down, almost a little too abruptly and strange, and then said in a very forced, slow manner, “Just call me Adam. I will pick you up at eight tonight. Where something formal – we’re going to the club for dinner.”

  Club? I didn’t think I had anything worth wearing to such a place like a wealthy club. I raised a finger in protest and tried to explain this, “I don’t think I have anything to wear to a place like that. I don’t frequent such fancy establishments and social circles.”

  “Then I will send you to someone who knows what to do,” he answered as he dug into his wallet and pulled out a business card. He handed it over to me.

  I checked the card and discovered it was for a business known as La Floraison, a couture tailor shop. I’ve heard of it before, of course. It was only the most expensive fashion designer company this side of the country, duh. I wanted to smack Adam with my left and right hands alike. How in the world did he think I could afford a rushed order from La Floraison?

  “I-I don’t think this will work,” I tried to explain. “Won’t the tailor and designer need a few days or weeks to come up and make a design for me to wear? Even if they could make me something within the day, I can’t afford it.”

  Adam waved a hand at me, dismissing my concerns, “I will pay for it and I’ll call her as soon as you leave to make sure Madame Florinda prioritizes you before anything and anyone else.”

  My eyes widened when I realized just how much influence he had. If he could really make one of the country’s most respected fashion designers follow his command then he must have a lot of power indeed. It must have been terrifying for my father when he discovered something had gone wrong.

  I then nodded and stood, “Okay, Adam. I’ll leave it all in your hands. I’ll head straight to La Floraison after I leave this building and then I’ll wait for you this
evening. “

  Adam patted my head, as if I were a kid or a pet, and said, “Good, little girl. I will see you tonight then. Before you leave, give your contact details to the receptionist. I will know if you did not.”

  He really had me. I agreed, shook his hand good-bye and left his office-condominium before he could persuade me to do anything else. I had already agreed to one crazy deal, I didn’t want to fall prey to yet another one.

  Yet… even with the frustrations and fear that I felt emanated from his very being I couldn’t help but turn around one last time, just before I shut the door behind me, to get one more gaze at him. To my surprise I discovered he was still on the couch and he too was staring back at me. I felt exposed but at the same time oddly warm and comfortable. The door then shut and I snapped back to reality. Before I could stumble into another sort of trouble I hurried myself down the stairs and to the elevator on the fifty-seventh floor.

  The Talking Wardrobe

  La Floraison was one of the most stylistic establishments I had ever been to in my life. For years I had always eyed it every time I drove by or whenever the taxi I took passed by but I never took a moment to actually stop and go inside. This time, however, I kind of had to and lo, and behold it was a marvel to be within its walls.

  Everything in La Floraison boasted of elegance. Well, elegance and expensive. There were rolls of the finest silk and other rare or high-end fabrics. I could see desks of the most prestigious designers working on sketches of new items they were making for some of their customers. This was all just on the ground floor. I could only imagine what the main offices looked like upstairs.

  As soon as I entered I was approached by a gorgeous woman, likely in her mid 30’s. She had a clean-pressed red blazer and short skirt and her blonde hair was neatly tied behind her. To top her attire she wore a small red bowler hat adorned with a flower.