Beautifully Disturbed | ✓

[11]

Laila's POV

"Can't I wait until he leaves his bedroom to let him know?" I ask Sophie as I nervously stare at Mr. Romano's closed bedroom door.

"As I said before, you should let him know as quickly as possible." She says in her monotone voice.

I sigh and nod. Sophie leaves me alone, though I would have preferred if she stayed.

I take a deep breath and knock on his door.

"Yes?" A deep voice from inside the room says.

My hand shakes as I place it on the door knob and twist it open.

I peak my head through the slightly opened door to ask, "May I come in, Sir?"

"You may." I hear him say yet I can't see him when I scan the room.

I open the door wider to let myself in and close it behind me.

Maybe I should keep it open? But what if that is an inconvenience to him? But what about my uncomfortableness? I roll my eyes, who cares about my discomfort, this isn't my house.

I stand right in front of the door playing with the ends of my hijab like I always do when I'm in a awkward situation.

"I prefer that you come to me at the time I have provided to you; not earlier neither later. Exactly at 8AM." Mr. Romano's voice is coming from one of the doors at the back of the room.

"Sorry, Sir. I will make sure of that next time." I say. He's very picky.

"Good. Sophie informed me that you have something to ask?" His tone doesn't have a straw of emotion, making me even more anxious.

"I—um—I just—" My nerves begin to take over.

"When you speak to me, I want you to speak in a clear and concise manner. I don't expect anything less." He sounds almost irritated now.

"Yes, of course, Sir. I'm sorry about that. I just wanted permission to take the second half of today off for personal reasons." I say.

He stays silent for a few seconds, he even stops shuffling through whatever he was doing.

He steps out of that room, which I'm going to guess is his closet, and stands there with his arms crossed over his chest.

My eyes widen, he's only in a white towel. My eyes couldn't help but scan over him. He truly is blessed with physical attractiveness. His broad, muscular frame demands attention. His abdominal area looks rock-hard and well defined. The water droplets from the shower emphasizes his muscles by making him glow.

I start panicking because my wandering eyes strike again. I try to look anywhere but at him.

"I do not appreciate when staff take time off in the middle of the day." He says in a grave tone.

"I—I'm s—" I breathe in and out to stop myself from stumbling on my words. "I'm sorry. It's the death anniversary of my family's. For the sake of not being distracted during work, I just thought..." I couldn't finish my sentence. My stutter was coming back and I couldn't risk irritating him.

He takes a few swift strides towards me, making me take a few steps backwards, hitting my back against the door.

"How many years has it been?" He asks, his presence dangerously close to me.

"F-five years, Sir." I answer, feeling ashamed that even after five years, I still need time to cope.

"Listen to me, and listen to me carefully. Five years should have been enough time for you to be able to manage your emotions. Do not be so pathetic. I do not give half days to any of my staff, unless it is of absolute importance. You are of no exception. Do you understand?" His eyes are piercing my soul at this point.