Draymond Martinez, a mysterious New York tycoon, rarely appears in public due to his obsessive-compulsive disorder. Draymond is the CEO of Martinez Corporation and the legendary mafia don of the 'Jade Dragon Triad.' Living in seclusion, he often grapples with inner turmoil when his OCD takes control. His mother's tragic and untimely passing drove him to find justice for her. Suddenly, a deadly ambush pushed him to the edge of death. Just when all hope seemed lost, fate intervened, and Zarina Celesti Vasquez, a renowned fashion designer, came as his savior. *** "Marry me, Zarina," he begged, desperation in his eyes. He instantly regretted his boldness, muttering, "I think I'm becoming straightforward." Zarina blinked rapidly, her eyes widening, and she stood with her hands on her hips. "No way. I don't want to marry a man who sees marriage as just another business venture." She turned her back to him and flipped her long black hair, making her rejection crystal clear. Draymond cleared his throat, attempting to persuade her. "I need a wife," he stated seriously. Zarina burst into laughter, finding the situation absurd. "Mr. Martinez, I think you need a psychologist to check your brain because it seems you're struggling to understand my simple condition." Feeling insulted, Draymond clenched his teeth. "I'll pay you a substantial amount for this business marriage, and I'll be a great husband who will warm your bed every night!"
"Attention everyone! Mr. Martinez is coming, and you all know what to do. Make sure that everything he passes by is organized and well-aligned. Fix your neckties, too. The CEO despises anything that's not in perfect order. Are we all clear?" Mr. Kang reminded his workmates.
"Oh, Mr. Wills, hurry up with the cleaning." Mr. Kang instructed the janitor.
Draymond Martinez, an intelligent and powerful CEO, was commonly known as the cold, arrogant "god of perfection." He demanded that everything be clean and measured correctly, which was the key to achieving perfection.
"The CEO is here!" the employees shouted in a panic. This signaled them to stand upright and line up like well-trained soldiers. They needed to be aligned in front, back, left, or right whenever the CEO was seen in the company's hallway.
'What's going on again? Why do my employees look so agitated? Why are they freezing up like statues?' Draymond wondered to himself when he saw his employees from the window of his car.
He had just arrived at his company from Russia after attending a business meeting. He was about to enter the building when he suddenly remembered something.
'Wait, did I lock my car?' he asked himself. 'Ah, I did lock it,' he reassured himself and continued walking inside the company.
"Ugh! I can't be sure, and there's nothing I can do but go back to check if I locked the car properly; that's the only thing that would satisfy me. To check it by myself."
He clenched his fists and walked back to his Aston Martin car to check if he had locked it properly.
'Great!' he breathed a deep sigh of relief, feeling like a thorn had been removed after checking it again. His car was now locked and he quickly returned to his tracks, heading to the main lobby.
His eyes flew to his wristwatch.
'Three, two, one. It's already 2:00 p.m.,' he whispered to himself.
"Good afternoon, sir," greeted one of his employees as he passed by. He tried not to pay attention and greeted his employees in return without looking back.
"Oh, gracious! The CEO is so handsome, but he seems strict and barely smiles," he overheard one of the female employees whisper.
"Yeah, right! But he won't even notice you," replied another.
"Eh! What a waste! I even bought new makeup and foundation," one woman lamented.
"Hey, why a waste? You're lucky if sir doesn't notice you."
"Why?" she asked, pouting her lips.
"Because you might get hurt when he notices your imperfections. Emotional damage, you know. He was the epitome of perfection. He can tell if your blush-on isn't blended properly or your fake eyelash extension isn't aligned correctly. So, if you look imperfect, don't even dream about catching sir's attention. Just work hard 'till your last breath, sis." one of the employees said.
"Hey! Why are you gossiping? Get back to work!" Mr. Kang, the manager, shouted. Mr. Kang was assigned to prevent things that could distract Draymond.
"Aish! Do women normally talk about these handsome men? What about hard working men like us?" Mr. Kang murmured.
Draymond heard everything. 'Ugh, women.' he muttered to himself. 'I hope you don't dream about me anymore. You'll only suffer.'
Draymond continued walking towards his private elevator. He had his own elevator in his company because he tried to minimize interactions with people as much as possible.
"Good afternoon, sir." Someone greeted him. Draymond turned in surprise. Due to his habit of not showing much emotion, the employee didn't notice he was shocked. Draymond's eyes fixed on the man's tie.
Everything seemed to slow down. Even Mr. Kang was frozen, staring at the newly hired employee with wide eyes.
'Where did this newcomer come from? Why wasn't he oriented properly? How stupid!' Mr. Kang muttered silently and seemed stunned, glaring at the new employee.
As Draymond looked towards the man, he swiftly clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. 'Ugh! Damn it, can't he tie his necktie properly?' he fumed internally. "Fix your tie right now," he commanded the man.
"Whoa! You're dead, kid," gasped the onlookers. The man trembled, cold sweat breaking out and giving him a hard time to fix his tie.
Draymond approached him.
'Exactly two steps away.' he thought. He fixed the man's tie himself. 'I should do this, rather than allowing him to do it himself, which brought him fear and lost his focus later.' he thought.
Onlookers surrounding them were shocked, with their jaws hanging as they witnessed the scene.
"There, it's fixed," he patted the man's shoulder.
"You won't succeed in life if you can't handle simple tasks," he added coldly, looking directly into his eyes. Then, he entered his private elevator.
The male employee stood there in shock and briefly exclaimed after a few seconds, "Wow! That was cool," he exclaimed in amazement.
"What's cool about being scolded, kid? Didn't I tell you to fix your tie, shoes, and hair? You should all be presentable." Mr. Kang scolded angrily.
"I'm sorry, sir," Dennis said sheepishly.
"Now, back to work, all of you," he ordered.
'Ugh! The younger generation these days is so rebellious. 'Mr. Kang muttered under his breath, shaking his head in frustration.
****
"Sir, here are the minutes from your last meeting in Russia," said Simon, his secretary, as they entered the office.
"Hmm," was his only response.
"How about my schedule for this month?" he asked, settling into his swivel chair, where he meticulously organized the pile of papers, pens, and pencils.
'Aish! Why are these pencils not well arranged when I often arrange them?' he murmured.
"Your schedule is the following: an auction with GUSEV, an interview with Light Magazine where famous rich bachelor CEOs are their hot picks, and a check-up with Dr. Tan. That's all, sir," Simon informed him swiftly.
"Hmm... Tell that persistent Light Magazine to stop bothering me," he said, furrowing his brows. He just wanted to live in the shadows where no one could see how fragile and broken he was. He didn't want fame; it only disturbed his privacy.
"Anyway, have you contacted a designer for my suits? As usual, I want a unique and perfect suit. You already know that, don't you? So, where are their designs? Have they sent them?" he asked, rolling up his sleeves.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I keep rejecting the designs because I didn't see the important criteria for approval in those designs sent to me. For now, I am waiting for the revisions," Simon explained.
After hearing the updates from Simon, he went to the washroom and washed his hands. He turned on the faucet in smooth water pressure. He washed his hands repeatedly three times. It was precisely five minutes after he finished doing it.
When he returned to his desk, he found Simon still waiting patiently for him.
"Is there something else, Simon?" he asked.
"Sir, I called Dr. Tan to ask about the medicine you wanted to buy from the black market. He mentioned that the dosage is too high, and your body might struggle with it, potentially worsening your condition. I've noticed you've been getting tired more easily lately. Dr. Tan will look into alternative options and see how he can assist you during future flare-ups," Simon said, gazing at him with concern.
"Sir, please rest at home first. Don't stress yourself too much," Simon added, looking at him seriously.
"Alright, you can leave now, Simon. I'll update you later," he said, tapping his fingers on his desk.
'It's already 5 p.m.,' he whispered while looking at his watch.
And then he suddenly remembered something.
"Did I lock the windows in my room?" he wondered, quickly gathering his things and leaving for home.