The billionaire's sweet editor -
Chapter 55: Lucas: You’re now famous
Chapter 55: Lucas: You’re now famous
I THINK I’ve done everything I can to show Iris I’m a very capable man in everything. Checking if she’s okay both mentally and physically, making sure I place her first when it comes to instances where my gentlemanliness is tested, and protecting her whenever I can even though it seems like she can take care of herself.
Everything is ticked in my head, and the last task was completed last night—showing her I’m capable of giving her a good fuck every night if she chooses to be mine forever. When I woke up this morning, she refused to take a bath with me saying she worried that I might ravage her again.
For someone who kept saying she wanted more, that was such a daring betrayal. I ended up bathing by myself, and when I woke her up to tell her to get ready, she told me to leave her with one of my car keys so she could drive herself to work.
I didn’t even have any grounds to complain because I knew she was tired. Last night I delivered what I promised. A sleepless night filled with passion and lust. It should be a surprise that I’m functioning as normal when I slept late too, but goddamnit, I feel like a man right now.
Either way, I’d be very bummed if I woke up tired. I got a call from Dad this morning telling me the directors and shareholders of the company wanted to see me for some reason. After telling him I’d be his vice, the last thing I’d want to do is fuck up the only chance I have at impressing the shareholders, thereby ruining the promise I made to Dad.
Opening the door to the eighth-floor boardroom, I’m not surprised to see that every big shot of the company is already there, except my Dad...and me who just arrived.
All eyes turn to face me, sizing me up with their small eyes before I even sit down. Money aside, the power these old men hold is scary. I’ve heard bits of talks about them from events I’ve gone to with my Dad and trust me, after my father, they’re the last people I’d ever fuck with.
Nodding my head slowly at them in greeting, I walk inside the room, scanning my eyes around in a bid to look for a space to sit on. Unfortunately for me, the only empty chair is on the tip of the leaf, a spot reserved for the President of the company.
I’ll have to stand throughout the entire meeting.
But there is no meeting. How do I know that you may ask? Usually, when we hold meetings, the conference room has water, pens, and notepads placed in front of each chair for the person who’s going to sit on it to have something to jot down points with. But none of that is in the room as far as I’m concerned.
Then comes a voice from the far end of the room telling me to sit on the leaf’s tip. Immediately registering that my dad isn’t attending the meeting, I accept the offer and sit down. The old men still have their eyes on me, but for some reason, it doesn’t look like they’re trying to rip me a number.
Mr. Kuziva, the most influential amongst the lot and the largest shareholder of our company owning more than twenty percent in properties, is the one to speak up first.
"Good morning, Lucas," his flat voice fills the room.
"Good morning, sir. And good morning to you all."
They all hum in response, some of them nodding as if I said something breathtakingly wise for the world to hear.
"I’m sure you were surprised when you received a message this morning that you have to attend a meeting," another voice coming from our second best shareholder, Mr Binny speaks.
I give them a professional smile. "Not at all, I’m always ready for work when it calls for me."
Nods and hums of approval echo in the building again. Now here’s the thing with business people. Unlike women, men are so easy to please.
How you may ask? It’s very simple.
You’ve just got to play the fool. Answer all their questions exactly how they want them to be answered, and do a little of their bidding, not too much because they’ll use you as a pawn whenever you’re around. And finally, show them respect.
It’s the same with these old men. They called this meeting just so they could test my strengths and compare me to my parents, who did an awesome job running this company. Obviously. In the end just so I could impress them, I had to hand out printed copies of next month’s event blueprints, explaining to them how I was going to elevate the magazine and increase the company sales up a notch.
They bought my explanation, and by the time the meeting ended, I had already received congratulatory messages from all of them. There’s no going back now. I’m going to drop out of my position as the Chief editor of the magazine and become my Dad’s "apprentice" next month.
I knew the day would come sooner or later. My old man was increasing his frequent visits to my place over the years and every time we spoke, we somehow ended up talking about him wanting to retire early and enjoy the world whilst he still had the chance blah, blah, blah.
However, even though I knew the time was approaching, I never imagined it would be this early and I’d have to change departments without fulfilling the one mission I’ve always wanted to accomplish ever since securing this position.
It’s such a fucking bitter experience.
★★★★★
"So, like a prom but with high-end fashion and a charity event mixed in there?" Bella, Adder highly self-proclaimed fashion and design artist asks.
We’re seated in the magazine department floor boardroom, filling it to the brim. Each department has two individuals who have been selected for this meeting. I should be sitting next to Dion since he is my successor, but no. He decided distracting me was the best way to go about this.
How did he do that? Well...
"Yes," Iris nods at her, jotting down something on her notepad. If she’d told me she was going to wear one of my shirts to work, I’d have prepared myself for the consequences. She has styled it up with a corset, and it’s showing off her enthralling figure.
Ican’t
stoplookingather."We can finish all the outdoor designs in two weeks, but we’ll need more hands if it’s going to be perfect," Bella says.
"We can ask the maintenance team, and some from the photography department can help since we’re low on work right now." Mary flips her head to look at her HOD, but he looks unapologetic nonetheless.
"I’ll ask if we can hire some professional hands to help," I offer, gaining the attention of the entire room, including Iris’. Our eyes meet and for a moment there, last night’s events flash in my mind like a fucking whirlpool.
I have to slap my cheeks to bring myself back to reality, making everyone in the room flinch. Iris snorts to herself, turning away before I get a glimpse at her face again.
She’ssocutedamnit!I justwannaeatherup
."Then it’s settled. The team you’re hiring should be here by next week Monday so we can start the preparations pronto. Anyone else with anything to add?"
No one replies to Bella’s comment and she closes her laptop with a loud thud. "Good. Remember to send out the invitations by the end of the day," she pointedly looks at the publicity and marketing team, picking up her gadget and swerving her hair to the side with one swift head shake.
"Our theme for the event is written on the invitation, but just to remind you, it’s royal elegance. The meeting is adjourned. Lynn, you’re coming with me," she says her final words, sashaying out of the room and leaving a whiff of her strong spicy cologne to haunt our noses.
The rest of the team begins leaving too, and Iris mixes herself in the group. I don’t get a chance to steal her away and admire her, but ironically, someone in the last bit of the crowd does get a chance to steal me, and it’s none other than Bob.
"Ptss," he hisses even though he already has my attention.
"Yes?"
His eyes scan around the room until he’s sure everyone has left. Turning his attention back to me, he lowers his voice until it’s barely audible. "We posted those pictures and videos of you online."
I blink. "Umm, okay. That’s very commendable of you guys, well done."
"They went viral," he blurts out at such high speed I have to wait for a moment to take in what he said before I finally understand what he said.
Taking out his phone, he hands it to me. One look at the statistics is all it takes for me to let out a loud gasp. Five million fucking views and a hundred thousand comments. All for what? A video of me flexing my muscles and posing for the camera.
The visuals and everything are nice, no kidding. They make me look like a main character, a thirst trap if I do say so myself. "Damn, I’m handsome," I whistle.
"That’s not even the best part yet."
"What is?" I ask, scrunching my eyebrows at him.
Bob giggles happily to himself, taking his phone back and pressing the profile icons of tagged accounts. Amongst them is my Instagram account and he opens the page. If I thought I gasped earlier, then this time I scream.
My account which had nothing but one thousand followers and two pictures of me from two years ago at the magazine award ceremony has suddenly boomed to fame. I got a hundred thousand followers overnight.
"How is this possible?" I whisper, mouth open from shock.
"You’re too hot to handle," Bob replies opening our magazines’ page and showing me how many followers they got overnight too. We went from five million to seven.
"Nah, this can’t all be my doing."
"Yeah, for the magazine at least. We usually get around one thousand followers a day, but this is peak performance, and it happened after we posted your video."
I take out my phone and open my Instagram, which I last opened about a month ago. The app immediately crashes when the notifications start coming in and I have to update it in my AppStore for it to finally start working. Both pictures on my profile have about ten thousand likes to them, and comments so dirty and lustful I can’t even finish one without having perverted thoughts.
"Congratulations, Lucas. You’re now famous."
★★★★★
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