The Billionaire's Revenge..

(Annabelle)

I knew I wasn't getting the job. I had known the second I discovered who my interviewer was, and who so happened to be the CEO of Armstrong's Finance Holdings too.

If getting hired into AFH with an online degree certificate was once unlikely, now it seems inconceivable.

Yet, I sat primly before the man who was about to spell doom on my fate. Breath held, hoping, and eyes focused on the man who had his eyes squinted over my resume as if it was a piece of dirt that was out of scale on his upscale office.

Adrian Armstrong has not changed that much from our last encounter. Maybe more charismatic, intimidating, and much more handsome. He still has the slick brown hair that gleamed in the morning sun streaming through the high office windows. His thick eyebrows that are always furrowed together in his habitual sign of focus, his pointed nose which is one of my favorite features of his, and his full lips, nibbled by his teeth. His broad shoulders filled out his tailored suit, evidence of the six passing years.

I blinked a few times, looking away before my thoughts and eyes could wander past his exposed arms that's a nest of delicious curly hair and veins.

We're here for the job, not to ogle at some sexy man who dumped us like a piece of trash years ago... A job that we're unlikely to secure. Snap out of it Annabelle Dickinson.

Adrian glanced up, pinning me with his beautiful brown eyes that were hard to read for just a second, and then he glanced down at my resume before he tossed it to a side.

That's it. Another rejection.

My shoulder slumped, and I tried not to burst into tears right here... at least not in front of Adrian Armstrong. He did not need to know that I was having it rough, or desperate in need of this job.

Not like he's going to help. After all, he'd tossed us away as he'd tossed my resume away now.

When Adrian straightened up and leaned against his chair, I was prepared for his next words which were now familiar I could recount it head off from how much I'd heard it, but...

"You're hired!"

"What?" I must have heard wrong. I definitely must have. "Did you say I was hired?"

Adrian frowned, he tilted his head forward and pinned me with a glare. I tried not to squirm at the glare, but I couldn't help the warmth that spread all over my face... probably because it's suddenly gotten hot in here, and not because of Adrian's brown eyes that seemed to be boring into my soul.

"I'm sorry Ms. Dick, but I'll let you know that we consider fraudulent a great crime here."

"Fraudulent?" I raised my brows.

"If there's any disability you have and you didn't list it here, then it's considered fraudulent, Ms. Dick."

I raised my brows in confusion, unsure of what Adrian was implying. "I am not disabled. I have no disability."

"That didn't explain why you couldn't hear what I said earlier, Ms. Dick." Adrian tutted.

My cheeks burned. I shifted on my chair, looking anywhere but the asshole before me.

"I was just surprised."

"Hmm."

"I mean, not like I'd expected to be hired anyway." Asshole!

I'd gone for various interviews, and written hundreds and millions of resumes, but I'd gotten the same reply every goddamn time. ' we're sorry, we need people who're more experience ' as if I'd not know that me being an online degree holder was the cause of my setback.

How dare he be so arrogant as though he knows anything about me? That arrogant peacock.

"I'll let you know that there are many candidates who applied for this job, Ms. Dick. You can simply reject the offer if you don't want this job."

My gaze locked onto his, my nostril flared, and my hand balled into fists, ready to throw some deadly blow into his infuriating mouth.

I wonder how bad it could be. If he'll throw me into prison, then that'll be bad. I have a kid who needs her mother. And Lord knew I could not afford to lose this job.

So, I took a deep breath and willed myself to calm down.

"I want the job," I said. "I'm taking the job."

"Good," Adrian said with a small smile as he reached out his hand for a handshake. "I hope we get along well, Ms. Dick."

Never happening. And what's with the consistent mention of my surname?

Taking his hand, I gripped it as tight as my small hand could which seemed impossible to induce some kind of pain because his hand was bigger, firmer than mine. Still, I fixed him with a subtle glare and scowled. "It's Dickinson. Annabelle Dickinson."

"Pretty sure it's the same thing. One is the full name, the other is the shorter one, Ms. Dick."

Damn! I know. Did I not? But I had not answered to "Dick" in a long ass time. Given that, the only one who found pleasure in calling me that was the asshole sitting before me.

Of course, I had loved him calling me that. It always begin as a tease...where he'd asked me if I'd want his dick or if I'd want the "Dick" in my name. And we'd always ended up in bed with his dick which I preferred more to the "Dick" in my name.

But that was years ago. And him calling me that now was not sex-induced. In fact, it was repulsive and disgusting.

I yanked my hand free and rubbed it on my clothes as if to rub off his touch.

Ignoring his raised brows and the smug smile that tugged the corner of his lips. I stood up, and hijacked my bag from his table. We're definitely not getting along, still...

"I hope we get along "well" Mr. Armstrong."

"Of course. See you tomorrow, Ms. Dick."