The Billionaire Hit Woman

CASSANDRA

I have just finished setting the dining table when Nick comes in, dressed smartly for work, with his briefcase in his hand. “Ooh! Someone’s looking good.” I compliment him, as he takes his seat at the dining table, dropping his briefcase on the floor, by his chair.

“I always look good.’ He says with a proud look on his face, making me roll my eyes, as I walk into the kitchen to get glass cups for the wine since I forgot about it.

“You think you’re such a hot cake, don’t ya?” I say to him, walking back with two glass cups in hands before placing them before him, pouring water into one, and wine into the other.

“Of course I am. I mean, look at all this?” He says, gesturing to himself and I just have to laugh, almost spilling wine on the table.

“Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about because there’s nothing remarkable about your looks.” I tease him, serving him spaghetti, before adding barbecue on top of it.

“Well, I highly doubt that the million girls dying to be with me will agree with what you just said. You had better appreciate me more else I might just be stolen away from you.” He says, with a proud look on his face, picking up his fork.

“When they do steal you away, help me thank them for doing me a favor.” I reply, looking at him with a triumphant expression.

“Fine, you win.” He says, and I bow slightly, while chuckling, “Also, why is the spaghetti so soggy?”

I glare at him, “Well, it’s because a certain person decided to distract me from what I was doing in the kitchen.” He smiles at me and continues eating before stopping again.

“Why aren’t you eating? He asks, noticing that I didn’t serve myself.

I look at him with a puzzled expression, “You don’t expect me to eat without brushing, do you?” I ask, laughing.

“Yeah! I do. I mean, I used to do it before.” He says casually, eating his food as fast as he can. So now you remember you don’t want to be late for work.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“Whatever.” I say, as I make to leave for the bedroom, so I can also brush and bathe.

“By the way, you’re coming with me to the office today.” He says suddenly, and I turn to face him with a puzzled expression.

“What do you mean? Why?” I ask.

“I told you last night, right?” He asks, and I think for a while, the only thing I can remember from last night being us having sex so I shake my head negatively, “No, you didn’t say anything.”

“Oh! I guess I forgot to tell you that you’re going to be working at my Company as my personal assistant, since you’ve been complaining about staying at home, so I’ll give you what you want, you’ll start working for me as my P. A today, so you should really hurry up.” He says, my eyes widening with every word he says. I’m going to be his P. A… and he’s just telling me.

I slap the back of his head lightly, “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? I would have prepared for it better. It seems I’ll have to stop letting you have sex with me frequently anymore, because it seems you’re getting dumber and dumber with each round.” I hiss.

“I’m sorry babe, but that punishment is way too harsh.” He puts, but I just roll my eyes and dash to the bedroom, taking off my clothe as I run into the bathroom. Within thirty minutes, I’m done with bathing. Geez! He made me use half the time I usually use to bathe, what a pain.

I pick up the olive oil on my dressing table and rub it all over my body, before sitting at the dressing table. I plug in my hairdryer to the socket, and turn it on, blow drying my hair as I wonder what style to pack my hair into. After a while, I finally decide on not packing it at all, and just leaving it the way it is I drop the hairdryer on the dressing table and proceed to rub several oils into my hair to give it a beautiful glow and an extremely pleasant smell, after which I comb it down.

I wear my underwear; my panties, my bra and a singlet, and then walk to my closet to pick out a professional outfit. I settle on a blue, long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of black trousers. I quickly run out of the room to the laundry room, passing by the dining table where Nicholas is still eating, and I’m pretty sure he took another plate of spaghetti. Good thing I cooked plenty.

He looks up at me and I can see he’s holding in his laughter. He really had some nerves to laugh at my plight when he’s the one who put me in it. I iron my outfit as fast as I can, and wear it. Without wasting a second, I dash back to the bedroom, and put on a pair of black stilettoes, I grab my jewelry box from my dressing table drawer, and pick out a pair of pearl earrings, a silver wristwatch and a gold bracelet. Then, I take out a lip-gloss from my makeup bag, and apply a small does on my lips, after which I grab one of the Gucci bags Nick had bought for me and threw in anything I felt I’d need; a notepad, my phone, my ear pods, more notes and then random stuffs to make my bag look more professional.

I sigh, giving myself a onceover and smile at my reflection in the mirror, and I nod in approval. I’m just too beautiful. I walk out of my room to the dining table to see that Nick is no longer there; he probably went to the living room, and he has already cleared his plates, and served mine which he covered with a food cover. Aww! How sweet of him? I sit at the table, eating as fast as I can, and within six minutes, I’m done. I carry my plates to the sink, and dump it there, noting to wash it when I get back from work, with Nick.

I walk to the living room to see Nick watching SpongeBob Square-pants, and I feel my heart breaking because I won’t be able to watch it. I love SpongeBob Square-pants and I don’t care what others say. “Come on babe, let’s go.” I say.

He looks back at me from the couch and whistles, “You look hot.”

“I know.” I blush, “Come one, we’re already late.”

He turns off the TV and picks up his car keys, and we leave for his company.