It was a typical Monday morning at Northefielde Elements Inc. and Mikayla Moss was sitting happily at her desk.

As she sat there, staring at her computer screen with a small smile on her face, her thoughts were focused on a recent trip that she made to her homeland of Trinidad and Tobago.

Images of the ocean filled her mind, and she desperately wished that she could be lounging on the sandy shore. If she closed her eyes long enough, she could almost hear the sounds of the young boy playing a steel-pan under a coconut tree.

"What I wouldn't do for a Maracas Bake and Shark right about now," Mikayla said softly.

Her desk was located in a neat cubicle in the wide hallway, just outside of her boss' office.

Mr. Brian Northefielde had been a good employer these last five years that she had been working for him. As a favour to her parents, Mikayla had been given an opportunity to do an internship at his software company located in the City of London.

Mikayla had done a fantastic job every summer over a three-year period. To the point that, as soon as she graduated from university with a degree in Communications and a minor in Marketing at the age of 21, she was offered a full-time job to work as his personal assistant.

Mr. Northefielde was an average-looking white man in his early forties, with brown eyes and brown hair that had flecks of grey scattered about at his temples. Sometimes he had the habit of spacing out and forgetting he had certain meetings when he became overwhelmed, but that's where Mikayla came in.

She had proven herself on numerous occasions as she went above and beyond for her boss, making sure that everything was kept in order. Mikayla loved her job, and took pride in the work that she did, no matter the task.

Humming a soft tune to herself, her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard as she updated Mr. Northefielde's monthly itinerary.

The doors of the elevator opened and out walked the enigmatic Mr. Damien Arnauld with four men who all wore matching black suits.

As always, Damien walked like he owned the place. He possessed this strong and commanding presence that took over any room he entered.

Mikayla stopped what she was doing to look over at him. She could not help but notice the way his dark grey 3-piece suit fit him. If one did not know any better, they could assume that he had just stepped out of a magazine photo shoot.

"What is he doing here today?" Mikayla asked herself, as her brows creased while quickly double-checking her boss' calendar.

She noted that she was not mistaken. Damien's meeting with Mr. Northefielde was not scheduled until next week Thursday. Letting out a deep breath, Mikayla quickly stood up and smoothed her black pencil skirt over her wide hips as she rushed around her desk to greet the Frenchman.

Damien Arnauld had taken over the family's firm five years ago after his father retired and now, at the age of thirty-three, the young CEO had grown the software and engineering company into one of the top businesses in the world.

In addition, he also dabbled in real estate and had a few other profitable dealings. He was a tall man, around 6foot 4inches, with thick straight brunette hair and aquamarine eyes. If one stood close enough to him, one would notice that there were flecks of yellow around each iris, making his eyes even more captivating than they already were.

His chin was strong and sharp, and he usually sported a very low and short beard to accentuate his jawline, giving him a bit of a handsomely rugged look. Every time Mikayla saw Damien, that short beard of his was always kept neat and trimmed. Even though she was not a fan of facial hair, she had to admit that it suited him.

Then there was his voice. Apart from being deep and smooth, there was a hint of a French accent that made it even sexier.

Unlike many of the other female employees, Mikayla really did not have much of an opinion about the man; at least not one that she willingly voiced out loud.

She often found him to be somewhat impolite in the way he handled things whenever she was in his presence, which occurred mostly when she sat to take minutes for various meetings.

Damien was rich, powerful and often acted as though he was untouchable and, given his wealth, he most assuredly was.

Sure, Mikayla could admit that he was astoundingly good-looking, even devastatingly so but, in her mind, they came from two different worlds. As a result, she did not dare explore the attraction that she felt.

The most that could ever happen with them was a romp in between the sheets, and that was something that Mikayla was not interested in, at least not outside of her fantasies.

"Pfft, get it together woman, focus on your work!" she muttered under her breath.

Either way, it would take more than money and good looks to win her over; Mikayla was looking for something more than that.

Beneath her tough exterior, she was a hopeless romantic, even if individuals like Damien wouldn't believe that. People like him thought that everyone was just out to use them for their money, and in some regards, Mikayla could not blame them for thinking that, as there were a lot of people in the world whose sole purpose was to just take advantage and use people.

Damien was in the process of negotiating the purchase of some software codes that her boss, Mr. Northefielde, had designed. At the moment, said boss was on an important call with a colleague in China, and had requested that he not be disturbed.

"I'm sorry Mr. Arnauld, but Mr. Northefielde isn't taking any visitors at this time," Mikayla stated, her brown eyes doing their best to remain focused on his nose in order to avoid getting distracted by the unique colour of his iris.

Damien smirked, coming to a slow halt just in front of Mikayla.

There was barely any distance between them as he placed his hands in his pockets and eyed her down. He had always admired her for her resourcefulness and witty tongue.

Why she was working for someone like Northefielde was beyond him. In his opinion, she should be working for him. The thought pleased him greatly, causing him to grin.

His aquamarine eyes slowly roamed over her body. Mikayla was not a petite woman, standing at around 5foot 9inches, with well-shaped curves in all the right places.

If he had to guess based on her shape, she probably wore a UK dress size 16. Her large breasts appeared to be D cups, which at the moment were straining deliciously against her white shirt, and the black pencil skirt that hugged her large hips and backside were very distracting.

That ass of hers was just begging to be smacked, and Damien silently wondered if that was something that she might be into. Her hips were simply mesmerising. He rarely ever saw a woman with such a sensual waist to hip ratio that had not been manufactured on a surgeon's table.

Oh no, he could tell that Mikayla's small waist, large flared hips, and delightful derriere were all natural. She had the thighs to match!

Those thick thighs could save lives as well as crush a man's skull, he thought in amusement.

The pupils of his eyes dilated at the image of his face buried between the firmness of those great legs of hers. If he played his cards right, perhaps one day his fantasy would become a reality.

Damien had been attracted to Mikayla since the very first day he had laid eyes on her.

In his mind, she seemed soft and firm in all the right places. The smoothness of her brown skin called to him, just begging to be kissed and caressed. He noted that today her long, dark, thick curly hair was pulled back into a messy lower bun.

It was obvious to him that she was of mixed heritage. Of what exactly he was unsure, but he was curious to find out.

His eyes wandered down to her full, plump lips; they were sexy and distracting. Damien continued to take his time, raking in her appearance, before he replied.

"That is of no consequence Miss Moss, since this company no longer belongs to Mr. Northefielde as of–" Damien paused as he took his left hand out his pocket to glance at his Blancpain watch, "10 minutes ago. Now if you'll excuse me..."

His words trailed off with a smile, before he effortlessly brushed passed her. Ignoring Mikayla's shocked gasp, he rudely flung open the large door leading to Mr. Northefielde's office.

"Game over Brian!" Damien's voice was sharp and crisp as he pressed the switch hook, abruptly ending the man's call.

"Shit!" Brian's voice came out in a high pitch as Damien's sudden appearance shocked him. Standing up quickly, with his hands raised in front of him, he pleaded, "Just give me a few more days, I promise you, I'll have the money."

At that moment Mikayla rushed in behind Damien, "Mr. Northefielde I'm so sorry! I tried to stop him but–"

Her words were cut off when she was suddenly held back by one of the men in black suits. The firm hold on her upper right arm startled her as she was moved off to the side. Mikayla was tightly held in place as she tried to free herself from the man's grasp.

"What the–" she huffed in surprise, the shock causing her words to choke in her mouth before regaining herself, "Get off me!" Mikayla shouted.

Damien shook his head as he made a tsk sound, "Oh Brian... Now look what you've done, dragging your employees into your mess."

Mikayla could not have anticipated the following events if she had not seen them with her own two eyes.

Instead of a profitable product purchase taking place, Arnauld Tech Corporation had enforced a hostile takeover of Northefielde Elements Inc. As of now, they were all out of a job, and Damien would be liquidating Brian's company to cover the cost of the debt that he was owed.

To make matters worse, Mikayla had invested most of her savings into the stocks of Brian's company, funds that he apparently stole.

So not only was she now unemployed, but she was broke as well.

"Bloody hell..." Mikayla muttered, as she found herself on the pavement an hour later, a box containing her possessions in her hand. 

——————————

AN: Welcome to my first ever Wattpad story 💖

The "Steel-pan" was invented in Trinidad and Tobago and is widely regarded as the only major musical instrument to be invented in the 20th century.

Many of you may be more familiar with the popular "Handpan" well this instrument is derived from the steelpan.

Please don't forget to
Vote, Comment and Recommend
to a friend!