Callum’s Hell

by Mason, V. F.

  The walls are made of glass that probably allows the natural light to slip in, which is so important for the plants they have inside the building.

  All in all, the main headquarters of the company speaks of nothing but luxury, class, and money.

  Sighing heavily, I remove my glasses and put them in my bag right before the doors slide open. As I step inside, buzzing surrounds me and various sounds echo through the space. People answering phone calls, machines beeping loudly, but mostly footsteps on the perfectly smooth and clean marble floor. I can almost see my reflection in it!

  My black pumps are almost soundless while I dart to the administrative area. I tug a little on my white pencil dress, all while juggling my heavy portfolio.

  If he wants a proper interview, I’ll damn give him one, even with a slideshow!

  The lady plasters a huge smile on her face as she greets me, an earpiece in her ear. “Welcome! How can we help you?”

  “I have an interview with Callum MacRae. My name is—”

  “Giselle Walker,” she says and quickly types something into the computer before giving me a small brochure. “You need to go to the twenty-fifth floor. This has all the information you need to know. Anything else?” she asks in a friendly manner, and I blink, shaking my head.

  “Thank you.” I grab the brochure and move toward the elevators while quickly scanning the thing for any useful information. It has the main door, emergency exists, and the cafeteria displayed along with restrooms.

  Well, they certainly want their visitors to get the best experience.

  I jump into the open elevator right before a guy presses the same floor I need. “Are you here for the interview as well?” I ask curiously, secretly hoping he’ll say yes, because then he can go first and impress the asshole.

  This way he might not even want me to take the interview.

  But then I sweep my gaze over the man, and I step away, practically gluing my back to the wall, as he is definitely not here for an interview.

  He is tall, around six foot three, his wide shoulders almost ripping his shirt, while his legs are covered in black jeans. His shoulder-length blue mixed with black hair is made into a man bun; his silver eyes scan me from head to toe, amusement flickering in them. He has so many tattoos around his neck and arms, and it seems he has a permanent fuck-you face going on.

  All in all, the man in front of me screams danger. “Sorry,” I mumble, looking at everything but him and praying for the elevator to move faster.

  “It’s okay, darling,” he replies, and his voice is thick with an accent, but I can’t detect the country. “Good luck on your interview though.” He waits a bit and then gives me one more onceover. “You’ll need it.”

  “Excuse me?” I say, but that’s when the elevator rings our floor and the doors slide open. He rushes out, flipping a lighter between his fingers on the way, and I frown at his back, shrugging.

  I check the brochure, and according to it, I have to take only a few more steps before reaching Callum’s office, and surprisingly that’s where the blue-haired guy is headed too.

  We both stop at the secretary’s desk, and she adjusts her glasses on her nose before looking back and forth between us. “Yes?”

  Before we can answer though, a voice from behind us booms in the hallway, alerting every hair on my body as the air hitches in my throat. “What the fuck are you doing here, Arson?”

  Arson? What kind of name is that?

  His secretary blinks but resumes writing different numbers in her notepad while the guy in question replies. “Paying a visit.”

  Callum’s entire body sends tense vibes while a stormy expression settles on his face. He catches my gaze and orders, “Stay here and wait for me.” Then he addresses Arson. “Come to my office. Now.” And he disappears inside once again.

  The secretary points at the couch near the water cooler, and with a nod, I go while dwelling on the man.

  Who is he and why does he evoke such a reaction from Callum?

  But more importantly, why does it seem like no one here gives a shit at this behavior?

  This company seems odder and odder by the second; that’s for sure.

  Callum

  The minute Arson shuts the door behind him and drops onto the chair nearby, I lose it. “I’m fucking tired of you all poking your noses in my business.”

  He flicks the lighter on and off while smirking. “Got calls from Jaxon and Lachlan, I assume.” He sighs dramatically, lifting his chin. “I’m hurt to know I’m not your first.”

  I barely contain myself from hitting the guy, so instead I wrap my hands around the back of my chair and bark, “What the fuck do you want?”

  “Honestly? Nothing.” He clicks his fingers and stops playing with the lighter. “Actually, there is. Here.” He throws something at me, and I catch it in my hand, noticing the golden keys dancing on the chain. “Lachlan told me to give you this. Levi stayed behind in case you might need him, and I’ll be there of course. In the dungeon,” he whispers the last part, and I wonder how Lachlan tolerates this guy on a daily basis.

  No surprise, most people hate him, but then maybe it has to do with his desire to constantly burn the bodies of his victims and stare at the fire for hours?

  Arson is one mean motherfucker, and the fact that he’s totally insane doesn’t help the matter. I’m shocked Lachlan is even able to control his wild tendencies.

  “I don’t need a sitter.”

  He clasps his hands and shrugs. “I don’t give a shit. You are in our town.” He adds the last part with pleasure lacing his tone, waiting for my reaction.

  The fucker always likes to bring out the worst in people so he can use it in the vilest of things. “It’s hard to forget, when everyone makes it their mission to remind me.”

  “Should have kidnapped her to Houston then.”

  Okay, if he wants to play it like that….

  I rest an arm on the back of the chair while standing and rub my chin. “I’m not sure you’re one to give advice on women.” His silver pools darken, and all amusement leaves him, his jaw ticking. So of course I can’t resist continuing. “You’ve been trying to get your captive to accept you for, what… months now?”

  He gets up so swiftly he manages to shake my table and send files and pens flying to the floor, where they clatter loudly, rolling on the marble. “Watch it.”

  Hollow laughter echoes in the room as I slap my splayed palms on the table while we both face one another. “I’m going to say it only once, so make sure to spread the word around. Any one of you poking into my business again, or as much as interacting with Giselle… all bets are off. You can show me your power here… but we both know what I’m capable of. Not to mention your business in my town.” I lean back and then press on the intercom, announcing to Vi, my secretary, “Show Giselle Walker in.” I then shift my attention to Arson. “Am I understood?”

  After a bit, he nods, but not before saying, “I came here to give you advice. If you need help, ask for it.”

  I consider his words for a moment and then nod in acknowledgment. “I won’t need it.”

  “We are not invincible, Callum. Even if we can kill people with our bare hands.” With those final words, he leaves right before Giselle enters, and her head follows his back.

  Then her eyes widen at the mess in the office, and she swallows loudly. And immediately my attention is drawn to how gorgeous she looks in those pumps and the fucking dress emphasizing her every curve.

  But the biggest turn on of them all? Her flawless skin that just begs to be marked.

  How else will everyone know who she belongs to?

  Giselle

  Un-freaking-believable.

  I’m still gaping at Arson’s back, because their loud screams were heard even through the door, but then gasp at the mess in the office.

  Looks like a tornado went over Callum’s desk, or more like Arson.

  “Please pay no attention to that. Sit,” Callum orders, and I j
ump a little from his harsh tone, but with a nod I enter, closing the door.

  Clearing my throat, I offer, “Maybe we should reschedule?” I don’t want to be on the receiving end of his bad mood, even if I’m here just to go through the interview and decline the job offer.

  Callum says nothing, but his brown eyes hold mine prisoner as he waits for me to comply with his order.

  Groaning inwardly at the stubbornness of this man, I drop onto the chair, carefully not stepping on pens scattered all over the floor.

  “I apologize for Arson. He came unexpectedly,” he says, settling on his chair and twisting something on his platinum watch. “You’re late,” he announces, and my jaw drops at this.

  “Late?” Checking my watch, I see it’s only ten after twelve. “I was on time. Your friend Arson—”

  “You both arrived late. Not a good point for an employer.”

  Taking a calming breath, I decide to keep the plastered smile intact and not argue with the jerk much. “Well, what to do. Life happens.”

  He grabs a tablet from the table, clicks on it a few times, and then asks, “So, Miss Walker, tell me why you want this job.”

  Oh, God, he seriously wants to play it like that after last night?

  By his bored expression though, I know he means it. The last thing I need is for him to dangle the fine threat over me, so I answer. “Lachlan Scott’s garden is one of the finest in New York, if not the state. The mansion has existed since the civil war, and some of the trees there are hundreds of years old. Planting anything there requires research, thought, and creativity.”

  “Creativity?”

  “Yes. It has to look fresh despite the setting being so old. Plus, it has to be welcoming for guests and safe for children.”

  His focus is still on the tablet while he moves his fingers flawlessly over it. “You don’t think he has all that already?”

  “No, because he wouldn’t have hired you.”

  “Good thinking,” he replies, and then fires another question. “Your resume mentioned that you have experience in gardening. Is that true?”

  Freaking jerk! “Yes, I worked on Alfred Walker’s garden.”

  He finally raises his eyes to me, his mouth curving while he puts the tablet back on the desk. “He has a good garden.” He locks his hands, musing about something before dishing yet another question. “Do you think you have enough experience handling a project of this magnitude?”

  He sounds so detached, so cold, and so… bland that my blood boils inside me, demanding release.

  What’s the point of all this if I’m not taking this job anyway? He can’t sue me now anyway; I showed up for this idiotic job interview. “You know what? I do, but I don’t want to do it.” I stand up, picking up my bag, but his laughter freezes me.

  He leans back in his chair, swaying while giving me a onceover. “Your stubbornness is so foolish.”

  Crossing my arms, I hiss, “Oh, more foolish than what you’re trying to accomplish?”

  His brow raises. “And what am I trying to accomplish?”

  “You know we can’t work together.” Huffing in frustration, I tangle my fingers in my hair and pace a little while he continues to watch me like a hawk. “Not when the whole world thinks we are a thing,” I say lamely, and he flips a lighter between his fingers, oblivious to my statements.

  “I don’t care what people think.”

  “Well, maybe the press is used to you to being linked with different women.” I ignore the green monster rearing its head inside me at the idea of him with other women, which is quite insane! But nevertheless, my hands fist. “But my reputation is important to me. No one will take me seriously at this job now, and I have to think about my future.”

  “And you care so much about public opinion.” He mocks me, flickering the lighter on and off. “I built this company from scratch.” I frown at the change of subject, but he pays no attention to that. “Everyone who works here is the best of the best. I don’t hire mediocrity.” He gets up, throwing the lighter on the desk, and then flips open a file. “You got an interview because of this.”

  I step closer to see all my previous work showcased in photos with different handwritten descriptions on the side. From my school projects to my latest work before the woman fired me, leaving half her garden unfinished. “You have potential, and I want that potential. Is that clear?”

  I’m too stunned to utter anything else but, “Yes.”

  “Good. Now the other thing.” He walks around the desk, and the energy in the room shifts, becoming oddly electrifying, alerting each of my senses when he moves closer and closer.

  Instinctively, my legs shift back, back, back, while he continues to power toward me. “What thing?” I step back once again, hoping I won’t find a pen on the way. Face planting on the floor would be the highlight of my humiliation at this point.

  “Me and you.”

  “There is no me and you.” My back hits the wall, a slight groan slipping past my lips as he rests his hand beside my head, caging me in. My eyes widen and my heartbeat speeds up when he leans forward, our breaths mingling as my chest rises and falls.

  “Let’s get something straight here.” His fingers skim my neck, lightly grazing the skin, and I gasp as goose bumps pop up on my skin. “I want you.” I put my palms on his chest, wanting to push him away, but instead, I fist the lapels of his suit jacket. “Moaning under me while I make you mine, time and time again.” His finger slides down to my collarbone, as if he’s drawing a symbol on my skin. “So have no illusions about me.”

  “You can’t talk to me like that,” I whisper, confused and aroused at the same time, desire crashing on me like a wave. I’m trying to gulp for breath under it, but I’m powerless by the sheer power his presence brings.

  “You are not my employee, darling,” he growls, tilting my head up as I feel his breath on my neck, right before he places a butterfly kiss on the spot between it and my shoulder. “I could never do this to one of my employees,” he murmurs, sucking on my skin, and a moan sounds in the room. It takes a second for me to realize it’s mine. His thumb slips my dress from my shoulder as he moves lower, pressing his body to mine where I feel his rigid muscles.

  “Oh my God,” I murmur, swaying my hips toward him, even though everything inside me screams to free myself from the hypnotizing hold he has on me.

  “No, just me, love.” His fingers lace in my hair and he brings me closer, our lips almost touching when he growls, “Callum. Repeat my name, love.” He nips on my chin, slowly tracing his tongue to my lips, and I’m ready to comply with his demand, until the phone ringing bursts the bubble of desire and need he’s created, snapping me out of it.

  For a second, neither of us says anything as the phone continues to ring, but then my actions finally register in my mind, and with a loud gasp, I push him away.

  He lets go of me easily while I breathe heavily, adjusting my dress. “Who said you have the right to touch me?” I ask, licking my dry lips and hating how raspy my voice sounds. I can’t believe I almost allowed him to kiss me on my second meeting with him.

  During a job interview!

  “You wanted it. Why hide your desire for me?”

  “This is not desire. I’m getting out of here.” I rush to snatch my bag and files, ready to bolt, but he blocks my exit. “Callum, please. This is insane and…. I don’t even have words for it.” How can I forget common sense around this guy? God knows what could have happened if we weren’t interrupted. “Stay away from me.” Then his earlier statement plays in my ears. “That’s the whole point of wanting this, right? Since you didn’t want to offer me a job, you wanted a quickie in your office!” I almost shout the last part while he calmly removes his jacket, throwing it on the chair, and rolls his sleeves. “What are you doing?” Panic laces my tone while I watch his next move, but he just chuckles.

  Freaking chuckles!

  “It’s hot, darling.” He hikes his thumbs on his pockets and continues, “You�
��ve seen me, what? Two times? And somehow, out of these times, you’ve come to the conclusion I’m an asshole.”

  “It’s—”

  His splayed palm shushes my protests. “I’m being honest here. I won’t hire you, because I want you. Badly. I’m not good with watching and not touching,” he says, sighing. “But Lachlan needs those renovations. So he is the one who hired you.”

  My mouth drops open. “What?”

  “Yes, he loved your work.” He steps closer again, while I’m frozen on the spot once freaking again, and feel the tip of his leather shoes touching mine. “So he is your employer. His company hired you. I was just the bridge. So to everyone involved, you don’t work for me.”

  “This—”

  “But make no mistake, everyone will know I want you.”

  I look at him, completely confused with this plan, and he smiles. “I see I managed to shock you. Think about it, darling, in your spare time.”

  All this becomes too much though. Him manipulating me, then the intense desire I’ve never felt before, and now this. It’s like he has the ability to spin my world on its axis and then expects me to be grateful for it.

  “I need to go.” And this time, he shifts to the side, allowing me to dash outside to his secretary’s shocked stare.

  Callum MacRae.

  Wolf in sheep’s clothes?

  More like the devil himself.

  Callum

  Run, my wild orchid, but even you won’t be able to resist me.

  After all, we are destined to be together one way or another.

  I inhale the smell of her perfume and think about all the orchid greenhouses back on the island, where I can’t wait to sink my dick into her, so she’ll know who permanently has possession of her body.

  Giselle Walker is mine.

  My beautiful Persephone, who is yet to discover she’ll rule the underworld with Hades.

  Chapter Nine

  Giselle

  “Is this the right address?” the cabbie asks, straightening in his seat as we pull up to the huge mansion located on the outskirts of the city, guarded by an iron gate.