His laugh vibrated loud and clear for a full five minutes.

Seriously, I was worried if he laughed any louder the glass chandelier above us would threaten to bust.  It certainly wasn’t the response I was expecting. I part of me was waiting for a little drama to unfold. Couldn’t he grab me by the arm and pull me out while I hurled insults at him? I already had a beautifully long list of accusations and slap techniques. Instead he was looking at me as if I did standup comedy in his bedroom.

“Really funny, huh? Let’s see how funny it is when I start unpacking!” I said in the same sickly sweet voice I had been trying to maintain for the entire afternoon. It was sounding a lot less sweet and a lot more like I was griping at the last straw of my patience.  I got the opportunity to let a smug look come over me when I watched Carmela lead a skinny guy behind her with my bags. So, Carmela had listened!

At least that’s what I thought until I glanced at Martin and saw him wink at the shorter woman. He was humoring me, the douche bag.

“Go right ahead then.” Martin claimed calmly, still sprawled on his leather couch. Well, it wasn’t like he didn’t have room in his five story mansion, but still.

I was planning on demanding to know why he wasn’t asking any questions, but then why would I do a stupid thing like that? Sure, things hadn’t really gone like I planned them in my head, but they were going somewhat better. Was what was happening better?

I gave him a pleasant smile in return before strolling over to Carmela like I already owned the place. I really hoped that bothered him, so I snuck a look behind me only to catch him staring at my ass. My body felt like it was on fire the minute I caught him, until I watched his eyes meet mine. Turning back awkwardly, I tried to walk out with the same confidence as before.  It didn’t work.

I had never really caught anyone checking me out before. In fact, I thought it was a damn myth. Like, maybe guys didn’t do that anymore? Or maybe they just didn’t do that to girls like me. I wanted to convince myself that I was imagining things, but you really couldn’t give a pointed look like that and let it be confused. Andrew had never treated me with anything less than respect, which instantly made me sad. My Prince Charming had been replaced by The Devil. Wait, what was I thinking? Andrew and Martin weren’t even on the same league. It hurt to think of the last words I had with Andrew, so I focused back on what was happening in the present.

“Carmela, I want the top floor.” I declared, with my feet already climbing up the next staircase.

I heard Carmela stutter before I really noticed what she was saying.

“Ma’am, I-I-I don’t really think you want the top floor!”

“Nonsense, now follow along Carmela.” I said primly, running my hand along the mahogany wood banister. It was only a floor above Martin, but I hoped he got my message. He was clearly below me in the floor he lived in and in character.

The top floor was similar to the last four below me and just as spotless. I wondered for a moment if Carmela took care of all of it by herself. I hadn’t seen any other help aside from Carmela and the tall skinny guy that was holding my bags. He didn’t look any older than eighteen, which in turn made me feel elderly. Fine, I was being dramatic, but I was nearing close to twenty two and it freaked me out. I knew I was still young in the back of my unreasonable head, but I had never thought I would be twenty two and single when I got married three years before.

Life had a funny way of turning out. If by funny it meant twisted and depressing.

I pulled open the first door I saw and made my way into the room. It wasn’t huge like Martin’s, but it was the size of the living room of the house Andrew and I used to share. The bed was queen sized and set against the wall directly in front of me. It had a royal blue comforter that matched the baby blue carpet. Just looking at the expensive carpet made me want to take my shoes off for starters. There was a white leather loveseat set against the wall to my right and it went with the pretty vintage wallpaper that coated all four walls. My eyes finally shot up to the ceiling where a smaller chandelier than Martin’s hung glistening.

I couldn’t have picked a better room if I wanted to. Grudgingly, I realized with a small sense of awe that I was forcing myself to live in a mansion that probably belonged in a fairytale.

“Ma’am, are you sure you want to stay on the top floor?” I had forgotten about Carmela, who was still standing behind me with my luggage, while I stared at the room in awe.

I clapped my hands, coming back to life, and smiled back at the woman who now looked totally freaked out at being in the same room with me. She probably thought I was a lunatic.

“I’m positive this is the room I want.” I smiled, before getting to business and grabbing hold of my luggage.  I watched Skinny Guy retreat with a nod once his job was done, which left me and Carmela alone for a few moments.

“Ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying, Mr. Vance is a wonderful employer, but he is not someone to cross. I don’t know why he’s letting you get your way, but I want to warn you now, even if you are a bit-well…”

“Crazy?” I finished for her.

I watched Carmela flush before smiling warmly at her.

“Trust me, Carmela, Martin’s the last person I’m scared of.”

If only she knew Martin was the one who should have been watching his back. I was going to take him for everything he had, just like he took everything that was mine. His company, his mansion, his fortune, and if there was someone he loved, would all be ripped away from him. It was only fair.

Maybe, it was your fault.

The little voice in my head chanted. I brushed it off, not trying to let myself think that things with Andrew were ruined because of that other thing. My problem. From our wedding night, Andrew had always said that it would never tear us apart. No, that hadn’t been it. It was all Martin.

Carmela quickly left after her warning, leaving me to unpack. It was surreal to put all of my clothes into drawers and hangers, but I did it dutifully. I wasn’t going to get freaked out about the things I was doing. Maybe it hadn’t even sunk in just then.

I noted my conservative clothes while I put them away and couldn’t help remembering Martin’s gaze. Why would he look at me like that? I knew he had the eyes of a predator, it had been the first thing I noticed about him when he approached me several months back.

At first he made me nervous as hell. It was just in the way he looked at you, as if he knew all your secrets and would use them against you. At this point, I had barged into his house and was on a mission to bring him down. His gaze no longer set my skin crawling. I mean, it still made me feel warm inside but it wasn’t like before.

Andrew and I had been tight on money, I could still remember. Martin had shown up at my house on some random day. I had looked at him with my eyebrows raised and a confused look on my face for the entire duration of his visit and ended up with dollar signs on my eyes when he left. He had given me the perfect offer-to snoop on Lilly and make money.

Looking back on it, I should have slammed the door in Martin’s face. Yet, in reality I think I knew I would have helped him anyway. Martin would have found a way to envelope me in his life of secrets and spying no matter what and that was what pissed me off. Why the hell had he picked me to spy and send him reports on Lilly?

Why had he ruined my life?

Thinking of him only made me angrier, bringing my thoughts back to the present. I remembered that he was probably back with his slut on the second floor without a care in the world. A grin slid into my face when I thought of the perfect opportunity to start messing with him. I wasn’t going to pull out the big guns just yet. I still needed more Intel for that, but I was going to be annoying as hell.

I stopped putting my things away and started for the stairs. I climbed them down like a little kid, leaning against the rail and letting myself slide. I would have never done anything like that before, but now was different. I was different. I had no reason to be normal anymore.

A slutty giggle greeted me when I reached the second floor, causing resolve to coat my features.

“Wine?” I heard Martin’s husky voice ask her. I rolled my eyes at his ‘seduction’ voice and popped into the room with a jump in my step.

“Don’t mind if I do!” I answered  cheerfully. It was pretty late in the afternoon, which explained why the room with so many windows, was so dark. I tried to take inventory of it anyway, realizing it was a game room when I saw the  girl from earlier unwrap her legs from Martin’s waist, while he held her propped up over a pool table.  There was a tall bar set in the corner of the room and black couches on the opposite wall. The lights were dim and honestly, the room smelled like, well, sex. Not that I knew what sex smelled like exactly, but if I had to guess, that would have been it.

It was the first time I saw the flicker of annoyance pass through Martin’s features when he looked at me. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for getting the response from him.

“She’s still here?” The shirtless girl demanded incredulously. I took that moment to take a good look at her. Something about her looked familiar, as if I had seen her before. From her long curly brown hair to her perfectly tanned legs, she was obviously the crème of the crop. I looked down at my pale skinny arms and did a mental shudder. Girls like her ate me in high school. But this wasn’t high school and I was in control now.

“Ew, you’re still here too?” I sneered right at her before skipping closer to the bar. I was acting as if I hadn’t walked into the prelude of sex.

“Martin-“ The girl started to whine, but I interrupted.

“How much do they pay girls like you, anyway?” I spoke snidely, sliding into one of the bar stools that were set in front of the many drinks.

I watched the brunette’s eyes widen first with confusion, then with rage, before they set on me. The look on her face would have been hilarious, if a part of me wasn’t scared of her and Martin. What if she convinced him to kick me out? Or, even worse, what if she tried to tell me off? Bitchy Minerva only went so far with girls like the one in front of me seeing red.

“That’s enough.” Martin finally spoke. His tone was no longer the carefree one it had been before and I wondered if I was starting to miss it. He hadn’t turned from covering the slut to even look at me. I suddenly felt like a reprimanded child, which only made me angry.

“Actually, Vance, I don’t think it’s enough. You still owe me and we need to talk.” My tone became harsher as I went on, but I didn’t care.

“Baby, I think we’re going to have to continue this another night.” Martin spoke.

If the slut had been looking at me with anger it didn’t compare to the look she gave me after Martin spoke. His tone hadn’t left room for contest, either.

“No, Martin! I don’t think so. That bitch practically called me a prostitute, and you didn’t do anything. I don’t care who the hell she is, all I know is that I quit!” The girl threw her hands in the air before sliding her head into a white t-shirt that had been resting on one of the couches. For a second I wanted to tell her that she forgot the bra, which was evident against the shirt, but it was no use.

“I don’t care how rich you are! Find yourself another fuck buddy and secretary!” So, that’s where I had seen her! She had been the same secretary to give me Martin’s address earlier that day. Talk about irony.

With that last inspirational statement, the girl threw her hands in the air and stomped her way out. I decided to use the awkward silence that ensued to get myself together and bring back my cheerful attitude. I already felt like I was walking on thin ice, but that had been the point.

“I really hope you didn’t pay her upfront.”

I watched Martin run his hand roughly over his face after my comment. A large part of me was really enjoying getting under his skin.

“She was not a prostitute, Minerva. In fact, she used to be my secretary.” Martin said, with his hand still over his eyes. His voice sounded as if he were talking to a child. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt, which only served to distract me after he turned. God, when had I turned into such a pervert? It was as if living in Martin’s house corrupted me in less than an hour.

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve got your secretary right here.” I spoke with a small smile. I waited for him to look up at me with a blank look before pointing at my chest.

If I thought Martin Vance wasn’t going to laugh again for the rest of the evening I was wrong.

“Why are you laughing?” I asked in a clipped tone.

“What makes you think I’m going to give you a job in my company?”

Oh, so now he had a problem with me intruding. Yup, I could just barge into his house and take up a room, but when I wanted to work in his precious company I should think again. That only tightened my resolve to work for him. I couldn’t find out his secrets pent up in his house.

“I think you owe me a job for ruining my marriage!” I spoke bitterly, standing up.

“Ah, yes, you filed for divorce this morning didn’t you, Min?”

My mouth dropped.

“How do you even know that?” I wondered, not even bothering on the nickname he was calling me by. Was he keeping tabs on me?

“I know a lot of things.” Martin said pleasantly, going back to his carefree attitude. I watched him with narrowed eyes as he poured himself and, surprisingly, me a drink.

“I don’t drink.” I said, deciding to change the subject for the moment.

Martin looked up at me before chuckling.

“So, you weren’t interested in that wine earlier?”

I tried to keep the guilty blush from my face, I swear, but it was no use.

“Look, it’s the least you could do, or do you want me to go tell Lilly exactly what you had me do?” I spoke harshly, trying to regain the upper hand. I watched Martin’s eyes narrow as they centered exactly on my own eyes. Seriously, for a moment I thought he knew exactly what I was doing. It was as if he knew I was on a mission to ruin him and he was letting me play my game. It was almost as if I was a pawn in his own bigger and better game.

“Are you blackmailing me, Min?” Martin’s tone was almost on the verge of laughter.

I watched him in a steely gaze, letting him come to answer himself. Several minutes passed before Martin spoke again.

“That’s cute.” He finally said, taking a drink from the liquor in his hand.

Before I spoke back, Martin said something else.

“Fine, you start tomorrow. We’ll talk the details over in the morning.”

“You mean salary and all of that?” I said with a little hope.

I watched Martin set his drink down and walk over to the opposite side of the bar, right beside me. In wonder, I focused on the way he leaned in closer until he was mare inches away. I could see the faint hint of stubble, from where I stood. Even though his hair was dark blonde, you could still notice it. Up close he smelled amazing, which probably had to do with the expensive cologne he wore. Everything about him was expensive.

“I should probably let you know now. My secretary has a few other tasks than what the normal job entails.”

I watched him with a sliver of apprehension as he smiled at me and leaned until he was far away. What the hell did that mean? What had I hired myself into? He couldn’t be talking in relation to his ex-secretary, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep with him. Him or anyone. I was going to talk back, but having him so close had made my mouth shut tight in a really weird way. I was almost paralyzed. What the hell was that? It wasn’t like I was scared. Well, maybe a little about what he said. My quietness was a result of him, of how close he had been.

Weird. I definitely didn’t like that.  

Martin was already strolling out of the room, but he turned back on last time.

“I don’t think I’m the blame for your failed marriage.” Martin finally claimed. He never stopped looking at me.

I finally conjured up the will to respond, which resulted in a gruff huff from me.

“Really, it would have never worked, Min. Couples who go to therapy just days after getting married were obviously never going to stay together.” Martin said in response. That’s when I knew he knew. The smirk he gave me almost made me cry.

“How do you know that?” My voice was small, but hard.

“I told you. I know a lot of things.” He spoke, before turning on his heal and exiting the room. He left me standing beside the bar with my hands formed into fists and the threat of tears looming over me. I knew none of my mixed emotions showed on my face. Martin hadn’t seen the way his words messed me up. He only saw a cold, hard, unemotional look. A look I perfected for moments like the one that had just passed.

But Martin knew. I didn’t know how or why, but he knew.

Martin knew about my problem.

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