Vincent's pov

It was Friday and that meant we had to go through all the files from the previous days and come to a conclusion on which meetings to attend the next week. This should usually be a straightforward and quick process. However, Hannah had been unusually distracted, occasionally staring into the distance or failing to arrange the files in alphabetical order.

I frowned, my eyes scanning the document before me. The cause of this newly found problem was simply that bald headed demon that she decided to date. If only she wasn't going on those stupid dates with him, none of these would be happening. It wasn't like I was bothered about the current situation. Whatever she chose to do with her life was her business. But the problem was that her choices were affecting her performance.

She was even taking pictures with him and posting for the world to see. I hissed.

"You're unusually slow today," I said, watching her bend over a desk to pick the pen that fell off her hand. "Clumsy too."

She groaned and picked the pen. Twirling on her heels, a scan from her eyes caught me in a whirlwind of shock. Why was she watching me with such a gaze? It was almost like she could read my mind.

"You appear to be more troubled than usual," she replied. 

"I never appear troubled."

"I beg to differ."

"We need to talk."

"Oh."

I nodded, settling the document on the sofa I lounged on. Crossing one leg over the other, I gestured for her to sit on the office chair across from me. She melted into the chair with such grace, crossing her ankles and resting her hands between her thighs. 

"Are you firing me?"

Chuckling, I said, "That's absurd. Why would you think so?"

"Well what could it be then?"

I cleared my throat. "You need to stop seeing him."

"Who."

"You know who."

"Who is who?"

"Stop playing games, Hannah."

"Then who do you speak of?"

I balled my hands. Why was she making this hard for me? Asking her to stop seeing the man was already a desperate move. Did she wish to sully me further by asking me to be direct about my wishes?

"You're usually more direct than this." She smirked. "What has changed?"

I gulped. "Nothing."

Oh dear, she has you tied.

She doesn't have any effect on me. I was strictly bothered because this little arrangement of hers was ruining our contract. I couldn't afford to know that another man wanted her to himself. This was a new month and I wouldn't want to taint my hand with blood so early.

"This little arrangement of yours doesn't feel right."

"Well there's nothing you could do or say to change my mind. It is set and if I want to keep dating him, I would keep doing so."

"What is it about him that entices you?"

"I do not wish to discuss such with you."

"Why are you acting like a wall? Each question I throw at you keeps bouncing off."

Now I was beginning to sound desperate. I wanted to claw out the root of my hair and scream at the top of my lungs. Hannah was burning me with prickly flames, leaving marks that kept running my sanity tank down. 

She stood and picked up a folder. "I suggest we finish this before my work hours end." 

"Of course."

It was official. Julius Anbassa was a dead man.

***

My fingers ran over the golden ridges the intricate design of the brown chest made. A heavy sigh lodged in my chest, making breathing difficult. I always opened the chest every month and it served as some sort of reminder of who I was before I became a CEO.

Unlocking the chest, I raised the lid, my heart thumping at the manuscript that laid in it. There was no outer covering, just a binded voluminous stack of paper. 

Unholy Obsession by Vincent Black. I smiled and sat on my office desk. Beams of yellow afternoon-light flooded the room. For the first time in the month, I felt a sense of familiarity. If only I had the courage to publish the book, maybe life would feel lighter, fresher and fulfilling.

I held the bridge of my nose. This wasn't getting me anywhere. As much as I wished to get my book out there into the world, the world made it clear that it didn't want my work in it. After a hundred rejections, I believed it was only wise to tuck it away. 

The thought  that plagued me however was why I still sought the manuscript every month even when I didn't want to have anything to do with it again. Life was better now, or so I liked to tell myself. I had unlimited money and better, there was an interesting addition in my life.

Footsteps echoed outside and I hurriedly shut my chest and hid it behind my bookshelf. Inhaling, I sat back in my seat. James waltzed in like he owned the place, one of my white robes swathed around his body. Two ladies giggled behind him and he smiled, taking a sip of tea.

"Ladies, ladies, relax," he said, waving at them. A brown package was lodged in his armpit. "I'll be back soon."

He ambled to my desk and dropped the package. It made a thud, reverberating the desk. What could possibly be in it? Sitting, he crossed his leg, letting his balls be out for show. What the fuck was wrong with this man?

"Please cover up," I said, looking sideways to avoid staring at that gigantic monstrosity.

He laughed and covered up. "Oops."

"If you know you'll be visiting my estate for some of your weird sexual rituals, the least you could do is get your own robe. I'm running out of bloody robes because of you."

"You're the one who throws them away after I use them. You would have a lot if you weren't such a germaphobe."

"Oh please," I said, pointing at the package. "What's in there?"

"I did some digging as you asked."

Sitting upright, I reached out for the package. It was oddly cold. I ripped it open and my discovery knocked my lungs out. Inside was a mottled liver that was already showing signs of dehydration. It was encased in a transparent bag. 

"James, what is this?"

"I bought it from Julius Anbassa." James crossed his arms. "Turns out he's an organ trafficker."

"Hmm."

I settled the liver on my desk. A smile crept on my face as I tapped my feet in glee. This was good. This was really good. Now all I needed was to show Hannah the sort of monster she was dating. If there was any monster that should be in her life, it should only be me.

"How long till this phase of obsession ends?" James asked.

"I have no idea what you speak of."

"Come on, it always ends." James smirked. "But that spark in your eyes. You don't want it to end, do you?"

I cleared my throat and looked at the liver. "You're just saying garbage. Why is this liver not properly preserved?"

"Don't try to change the subject."

"I'm not." I curled my fist around my chair's armrest. "Hannah's work input has dropped since she started dating that bald turkey. So I'm only bothered about that."

"Naso," James teased in Nigerian pidgin.

"It's not my job to convince your porous brain."

He laughed and reclined in his seat. "God, it's going to be so much fun to see how all this ends."

The word, end stabbed my heart with a burning lance. Such nonsense. Why was I scared of this whole thing blowing over? I was probably having chest pains from excessive work hours. 

"I'll need your help."

He shrugged. "I mean, I knew you would. Just don't add my name when this whole stuff comes crumbling down."

"Nothing is crumbling down. I'm Vincent Black. I don't make mistakes."

James did a nose scrunch, mocking me. I sprang out of my seat and he took off laughing. 

Annoying bloke.