The Obsession Book 2
Yazar
Shala Mungroo
Okur
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Chapter 1
Book 2
“You all set for school?” Mira Singh asked her half brother, Jahan, when he popped into her bedroom that morning.
She was still putting her makeup on when the six-year-old barged in, dressed in cargo shorts, a polo shirt, and his favorite superhero sneakers.
“Yup,” he said, and plopped down on her bed.
His eyes narrowed on her.
“You look dressed up. Where are you going?” he asked in that curious way that only kids can.
Mira smiled at him through the mirror.
“I start my new job today, remember?”
She finished applying mascara and with a final look at herself in the mirror, took Jahan’s hand to lead him out to breakfast.
“What will it be?” she asked him, peering into the cupboard. “Frosted flakes or puffed cereal?”
“Frosted!”
She poured him a bowl and then one for herself, then she dumped some milk into it and added a spoon to each bowl.
She placed his bowl in front of him and took her place on the stool at the breakfast bar next to him.
“Do you think you’ll see Nicholai today?” Jahan asked around mouthfuls of cereal, looking at her expectantly.
Clearly, Nicholai Bach had made an impression on the little boy. He asked about him almost every day since they had met over six months ago. If it was up to Mira, she’d never see the lying bastard again. He had lied about knowing her and worse still, encouraged her best friend to join in his scheme to get her to sleep with him for half a million dollars; all because he’d known she needed the money. She would never forgive him for that.
Mira tried to put on a smile for him.
“I told you, Nicholai is very busy,” she explained. “We might not ever see him again.” She didn’t want him to keep his hopes up.
She watched as his face fell.
“I liked him,” he said softly. “He was really nice to me.”
Mira knew it was more than that. Jahan needed a man in his life and he seemed fascinated with Nicholai Bach. She couldn’t fault him for that though. For a little while, even she was fascinated with the man and she had barely known him.
She decided to change the topic to avoid getting herself angry.
“So, are you going to try out for any teams at school?”
Jahan’s face lit up, as if he did have some teams in mind, and started prattling on about baseball and swimming.
Mira sighed in relief.
Damn Nicholai Bach for getting them so invested in him.
After all this time, her anger hadn’t dissipated one bit. If anything, she was even angrier that he had used her like that. At least she’d taken his money and used it the way she always wanted: a new house, and she now had her Finance degree. She and Jahan were doing so much better than before.
And Kaley!
Her best friend came around every so often to apologize and eventually wore her down. It was only recently that Mira decided to forgive her. She knew her friend had her best intentions at heart, even if they were slightly misplaced. Besides, she was lonely and missed her.
A glance at her phone showed her the time and she jumped up.
“You’ll miss the bus!”
She helped Jahan strap on his backpack and grab his lunch, before rushing him out the door.
***
She drove her new, cherry-red SUV over to the Sigma Group, in the heart of the city. She had been lucky to score the internship at this prestigious firm. But she had worked hard these past months, using the money to go to school full-time and always keeping on top of her classes.
It was such a pleasure, sipping her coffee and driving her own car to work in the morning; so much so that she didn’t even mind the endless traffic.
She got to park about a block away from the Sigma building, close to the restaurant chain she used to waitress at months ago, and stopped to admire the towering glass and steel structure from the corner of the street. She remembered when she came for the interview and was very intimidated by the building and the people inside.
She smoothed a hand down her navy pencil skirt and made sure her black cardigan over her white shirt was buttoned appropriately, before heading through the turnstiles to enter the building.
She spent most of the morning with Human Resources, getting her pass and doing orientation, before being taken to a cubicle on the tenth floor that housed other interns, all working on various projects.
She was informed that her team lead, Natasha, would be with her shortly to run her through her projects. In the meantime, she got settled into her cubicle, excited to get started doing something she actually loved for a change—something she’d worked so hard for.
She was tapping out a message to Kaley on her cell when a svelte blonde appeared at her cubicle. She had the body of a model, encased in a black sheath and nude pumps; and her perfectly made-up face was frowning down at her in disapproval.
“We don’t allow the use of cell phones during working hours, for personal use, that is.” The blonde scolded, with a toss of her shoulder-length hair.
Mira tucked away the phone quickly and stood.
“I’m—”
“Mira Singh. Yes, I know who you are.” She raised an eyebrow at her, giving her the once-over. “Follow me.”
Mira had no choice but to follow the blonde, whom she assumed was Natasha.
She led her into a small conference room where another intern was rifling through some documents. The long desk was laden with them.
“We’ve got an event in a couple days and we need you to learn this material by then, as we’re looking for investors for our new projects,” Natasha explained.
When Mira looked confused, Natasha rolled her eyes.
“When someone asks you a question about a particular project, you better be able to answer it,” Natasha continued. “Whichever intern gets the most investors for their project will immediately be allowed to work on that project with the team.”
She turned to leave then but Mira’s question stopped her.
“I thought I was already working on a project?”
Natasha plastered a smile on her face when she answered.
“You are. This. Is. It.”
Mira slumped in a chair and eyed the folders dubiously.
The guy with the oversized glasses and freckles seated across from her gave her a weary smile.
She sighed and reached for a folder marked Shorelands.
