Her Hatred And Obsession

“I'll take the usual, Tom,” Max said as he sat down in front of the bar.

“Yes, sir,” said Thomas, the bartender, nodding slightly and making him a Cognac just the way he liked it.

Max loosened his tie around his neck, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt to breathe, and took a sip of wine. The taste of it eased him a little. Today, when he was planning a new project, he received rather troubling news. His subordinates were suspected by the police of being involved in a drug possession case. And the one who reported it was a subordinate of Samuel Hall – one of his enemies in the marketplace.

“Boss, you know well that our people don't do that. Our business is now more than enough to make a lot of money, they have no reason to do it. Plus, I select people very carefully," said his assistant, sitting down next to him.

"I know," Max complained. “For God's sake, Ray. Can't you just leave me alone for a bit? This is a pub, not an office.”

Although Ray Baker is his assistant, sometimes Max feels like he is his nanny, always worrying and pushing him. If there was a contest for the most speaking assistant of the year, he was sure Ray would be the winner.

“Sir, this is your pub. I find it more effective to talk about work here than in the office,” Ray said seriously.

His words caused Thomas to drop the glass on the counter, almost breaking it. Max found it both frustrating and amusing. He glared at Ray. Ray understood, raised his hands as if in surrender, then took a large bottle of wine and scurried away. Max sighed. Ray is talkative but is an effective hand and specializes in handling the dark things behind him. He used to be a mafia. Big bosses like Max Thompson always need people like him.

“You look lonely?” Suddenly, a clear female voice spoke up beside him.

Max rolled his eyes. It was a girl about 20 years old, beautiful like a doll with blonde hair and smooth white skin. She wears a turquoise dress that hugs her slim body but is not too revealing. Her bust is neither too big nor too small.

“Can I sit here with you?” She said, smiling, and sat down in the chair beside him. Her face looks very innocent, and the makeup is very light, making Max feel quite strange and curious. Especially her clear eyes. It wasn't dull or overtly inviting like most girls who dared to flirt with him. There was also a gentle, pleasant fragrance emanating from her body.

“Hey, do you know who this is?” Thomas spoke to the girl. He knows Max doesn't like to be bothered when he's upset.

Max is the CEO of the world-famous Thompson Group and a young, handsome 29-year-old billionaire. It is normal for many girls to want to lure him to make money.

"It's okay," he told Thomas, then turned to the girl. “Of course, you can, but you should sit up here.”

Then, he suddenly grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her to sit on his lap. The girl staggered, clutching her hands to the chest of his shirt, her blue eyes wide open, looking him straight in the eyes, in which there was terror rather than amusement, and her body trembled strangely.

"Let go of me!" She cried out, standing up quickly.

Max didn't keep her. He looked at her curiously, asking, "I thought you wanted to drink with me?"

“Ah,” she said as if remembering her original purpose. Her slender hands smoothed back her long hair. "Ahem. That's right, sorry. But I think I should sit here.” Her voice trembled as she sat on the chair next to him.

Max found it funny but held it back. This girl is so weird. If she didn't have the intention of flirting with him, she should have left. Suddenly he wanted to tease her. He handed her his half-drinking glass of wine, saying, "Then drink it."