5. WHO IS YOUR BOSS? 1

Exemplified by fragility, sporting the same dress from the night before, Orla followed after David, Callan's chauffeur. Bumping hips as they slowly strode down the garage of her father's mansion.

Orla's large hazel eyes were firmly fixated on David, not wavering as she took in his features. He was tall, almost the same height as Callan. A well-tailored suit flawlessly accentuated his hunky frame that was easily noticeable from how his shirt tightly fitted him. He was hot, unlike Arnold's Chauffeur who was abnormally gangly and frail, according to her perceptions though.

Lapping her lips against each other, she stalled and placed her arms against her chest. "Who exactly is your boss?" She queried David who was a few steps ahead of her.

He curtailed his tracks, eyes flickering and landing on Orla. He shrugged and responded, "Callan Barlowe, the man you are about to get married to." A small smile materialized on his face.

The words frightened Orla, she took a backward step and wiggled her head. She still hadn't processed and accepted the fact that she was getting married to a man she barely knew.

Turning back to David, a small sound of panting dropped from her lips. "I know, but can you tell me a few things about him?" She wasn't the type to initiate a conversation with a stranger, but she wanted to know more about Callan and she felt she couldn't stare straight into his eyes to directly ask him questions.

His stares were deathly, she didn't dare to look up at him. David seemed nice, and she was willing to make use of that opportunity to ask him whatever she wanted to know about her prospective husband.

David smiled, "I think I know what you want to know." Pausing in front of the limousine, he jerked the door open for her to sit in. After Orla had settled in, he bent to her level and whispered into her ears, "You should ask him all that you have on your mind to ask, he alone can give the best answers to all questions." Smiling again, he lifted his head, adjusted his suit and slammed the door shut.

Pressing his shades to his eyes, he majestically walked into the car. Within seconds, the car was out of the mansion and on the streets, heading towards Callan's penthouse.

Orla sat still in the car, mulling over David's response to her question. There was a twinge of fear that shot through her mind whenever she tried to remember Callan. The feeling was petrifying and she wasn't certain she could go for long, but even if she couldn't, she had no choice now. Her fate had been sealed and there was nothing she could do to change that.

Sighing, she shot her head out of the window and let the evening breeze replenish her as she thought of the solutions she could come up with, to make her life reasonable again. Not that it was always reasonable, but at least she had her freedom and could do whatever she wanted within the walls of her room, but things were going to change now.

She dreaded that change so much and she so badly wanted to put an end to it all.

-

-

After about an hour of passive driving, the car was put to an abrupt stop. Orla was already asleep by the time they got to the penthouse.

David called on Rosa to come to pick Orla up and show her to the room where she was needed by Callan. He busied himself with other things while he awaited the arrival of Rosa.

Rosa finally showed up when Orla had just woken up, she flipped her eyes around to survey the gigantic skyscraper that was in front of her.

"Where am I?" She asked, her eyes darting from Rosa to David.

"The boss's penthouse." Rosa chimed, unimpressed. She glanced at David and said, "Is this the bride you were talking about?" Her eyes moved back to Orla, disgustingly ogling her.

"Yes, she's the one." David smiled, hoping Orla wouldn't take offense with Rosa's rude tone and stares. "Take her to the boss."

"Come with me," Rosa said sternly, walking out of the parking lot.

Orla hurried after her, afraid she'd get lost if she wasn't fast enough.

They got into the elevator, heading to the sixth floor. When they arrived, Rosa got out very quickly and was gone within a twinkle of an eye.

Orla searched for her on the passageway but couldn't find any traces of her. Everywhere was quiet, the first floor was busy and filled with people bustling around the whole place. She figured the other floors were also filled with people but the sixth floor was eerily quiet. She could bet that she would hear the sound of a pin if it fell on the tiled floor.

Staggering on her feet, she wobbled the hallway and finally decided to dash into a room to check if Rosa was in there since she wasn't coming out. She clamped her small hands on the doorknob of a room and without knocking, she twisted the knob, widely opening the door to a large room. The largest room she'd ever seen.

"Hey, are you in there?" She gently shut the door, walking further into the room.

There were about six divans sparsely arranged across the center of the room, a big brown mahogany table encompassed with stationeries, a computer and other things that were needed in an office.

She halted and smiled, peeping through the curtains. She caught a glimpse of the king-sized bed filled with pillows.

Veering around, she called out for Rosa but there was no response. An artwork of two birds caught her attention. She walked over to the part of the room where it was hung and was about to run her fingers through it when a familiar voice creaked behind her.

She jolted in fear, drooping her head to avoid his eyes.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Callan's deep voice echoed through the room, causing a bone to jerk within her. "And what are you doing here?" She could make out his footsteps approaching her. As he moved closer, his words hung in the air as if she had trespassed into a forbidden territory.