Forbiddenly Bound To You
Chapter 81: Mira’s Unexpected Transfer

Chapter 81: Mira’s Unexpected Transfer

Mira woke up the next morning, surprisingly earlier than usual. She figured it had something to do with the new enhancements she’d received. Her body felt different, more alert, and even her senses seemed sharper than before. After a quick stretch, she headed straight to the bathroom for a refreshing shower. The warm water cascading over her skin seemed to wash away the lingering drowsiness from her body.

Once she was done, she dressed in a fitted dark suit and skirt, deciding to go with a professional look for her first day at the new branch. As she smoothed down her skirt, she glanced in the mirror, noting the confidence radiating back at her. It felt good. Today would be a fresh start, and she was ready to make the best of it.

Heading downstairs, she assumed Zamian had already left for work since he wasn’t in their bedroom. She figured he had left earlier, as he usually did. But as she entered the dining room, she was surprised to see him seated, talking to the staff as they prepared breakfast. He seemed deeply focused, giving them specific instructions, but Mira didn’t pay much attention to the details.

What did catch her eye, however, was the unfamiliar array of dishes now set up on the table. The dining arrangement had changed, and instead of the usual meals, there were several foreign dishes she didn’t recognize.

"These meals will help reduce stress," Zamian said, his tone gentle yet firm. There was a hint of concern in his voice that Mira picked up on, though she didn’t feel the need to probe further. She merely nodded in response, not wanting to engage in a deeper conversation at the moment.

"Good morning," she greeted him, her voice carrying a polite warmth.

Zamian looked up, a soft smile forming on his lips as he returned the greeting. "Good morning. How was your night?"

"It was great, thanks for asking. And yours?" Mira replied, matching his smile.

Zamian shrugged slightly. "It wasn’t bad. Good to hear you slept well." They shared a brief look before quietly resuming their meal.

After breakfast, Mira noticed only one car was parked outside, which seemed unusual. Normally, she and Zamian would leave for work in separate cars. She assumed she had woken up earlier than James, and that he hadn’t arrived yet. But just as she was about to ask, Zamian opened the car door for her.

"Get in," he said, a calm authority in his voice. "James won’t be coming today. The chauffeur will take you instead."

His words took her by surprise, but Mira nodded and complied. She got into the car with Zamian, slightly puzzled but keeping her thoughts to herself. The ride was smooth, and the city passed by in a blur as they drove through the busy streets. There was a calming silence between them, one that Mira found surprisingly comforting.

When the car finally stopped, Mira looked out the window and was greeted with the sight of a massive building. Her eyes widened slightly in recognition—it was Zamian’s company, the main branch. She had been here before, but only to visit him that day. The branch she worked at with Lily had been large, but this? This was enormous. Why were they here? Had she been transferred here?

Zamian broke her train of thought with a gentle nudge. "Let’s go."

Mira stepped out of the car, her curiosity piqued. As they walked through the front entrance, she couldn’t help but notice how differently the female employees were dressed. Her jaw dropped as she took in the sight—every woman she passed was dressed in long, elegant maxi skirts paired with modest white tops. The outfits were simple yet striking, as if they were headed to a formal gathering.

She also noticed their cheeks were flushed pink as they occasionally glanced at Zamian, who, in contrast, gave them no attention at all.

Zamian hadn’t been joking when he had shown her the picture back at the mansion. He’d mentioned the new dress code in passing, but Mira hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now, seeing it in person, she felt completely out of place. Here she was, in a fitted dark suit and skirt, standing out among a sea of matching uniforms. Now, she felt completely out of place—like a fish out of water, or worse, a cat floundering in a river.

She shot Zamian a quick glance, her frustration bubbling to the surface. He could have at least warned her, knowing full well that she was coming to the same branch. Yet she knew it wasn’t entirely his fault—the company should have informed her when they transferred her. Now she was stuck, looking like an outsider in her own workplace.

Zamian, seemingly oblivious to her frustration, continued leading the way through the building. Eventually, they entered a separate elevator, one that felt eerily similar to the one she had used the first time she had met him. Her heart raced slightly as she wondered where they were headed.

When the elevator stopped at the top floor, they stepped out, and Mira found herself following Zamian down a hallway lined with glass walls. They finally reached a door, and without a word, Zamian pressed his fingerprint against the scanner. The door unlocked with a soft click, and as they stepped inside, Mira was hit with yet another surprise.

Beside Zamian’s sleek glass desk, which was adorned with minimalist decor, stood another table. But this wasn’t just any table—it was pink. The table looked as though Zamian had specifically asked the designer to make it girly, The shade was bright and bold, completely out of place in the otherwise monochrome office. The rest of the room had a polished, professional vibe, with black and white furniture and metallic accents. But the pink table, adorned with cute decorations, created a stark contrast.

Mira’s cheeks flushed as she stared at the table in disbelief. Was this supposed to be her workspace? She turned to Zamian, silently asking for an explanation.

Feigning ignorance, Zamian merely shrugged. "What?"

Mira raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Do you have any explaining to do?"

"I have no explanation," he replied, pretending to be as surprised as she was. But he didn’t look surprised—if anything, he seemed to be waiting for her to compliment his work.

The truth was, Zamian didn’t want to take any risk. He couldn’t bear the thought of Mira disappearing again. That’s why he arranged for her transfer to the main branch. He knew if he asked her to stop working, she’d refuse. If he suggested working directly with him, she’d probably say no as well. This was his solution.

Mira narrowed her eyes at him, sensing that he had planned this all along. Despite the playful atmosphere, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. At least she still had a job, and Zamian hadn’t tried to force her to quit. In fact, it seemed like he had gone out of his way to make sure she could continue working—just under his watchful eye.

Taking a deep breath, Mira decided to let it go. She approached the pink table and sat down, appreciating how well-organized everything was. As much as she hated to admit it, the setup was cute and oddly fitting. It was almost like something out of an aesthetic dream, perfectly complementing the otherwise sleek and professional office. Outside, the large windows offered a panoramic view of the city, and for a moment, Mira felt like she was sitting in a dream.

Shaking off the distraction, she refocused on her tasks. The files had already been sent to her, and it was time to get to work. As she became engrossed in her tasks, the rest of the world seemed to melt away. The hours passed without her even noticing, and she was completely absorbed in reviewing the documents.

Meanwhile, Zamian, seated at his own desk, tried to focus on his own work. But every so often, his gaze would drift toward Mira. He couldn’t help but notice how deeply she was concentrating, completely immersed in her work. Not once did she look up, and it was as if his presence didn’t matter. Not even a glance in his direction.

Feeling a twinge of annoyance, Zamian stood up and walked over to her desk. "This would be the best time to eat," he said, his voice carrying an edge of impatience. Normally, he wasn’t one to care about taking meal breaks during work, but right now, he needed her attention. Just a little bit of it.

Yet, Mira remained completely focused on her tasks, oblivious to his words.

Zamian’s expression darkened slightly. He moved closer, his voice softening but still holding a hint of frustration. "I’ll order something to eat. I’m starving," he said, hoping to get some reaction out of her.

But Mira didn’t respond. She was too engrossed in her work, her eyes glued to the papers in front of her.

Frustrated, Zamian finally snapped. He reached out and took the paper from her hands, forcing her to look up. Mira’s eyebrows knitted together in irritation as she shot him a sharp look. "Give it back, Mr. Zamian," she said, her tone firm but not unkind.

Zamian raised an eyebrow, amused by her formality. "Why ’Mister’?" he asked playfully.

Mira crossed her arms, trying to maintain her composure. "We’re at work. At least let me be professional."

A smirk tugged at Zamian’s lips as he glanced down at the paper, pretending to inspect it. "I think you’re doing just great. Now, let’s order something," he said, finally giving in.

Mira sighed, pulling out her phone. "Okay, fine. Let’s order," she replied, though her tone remained professional.

"What would you like to order?" she asked, trying to keep the conversation businesslike.

But Zamian didn’t like the formal tone. He leaned in closer, his smirk widening as he whispered in her ear,

"I want you."

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