Chapter 239/Endless Working Hours

Chapter 239: 239/Endless Working Hours

Chapter 230

Stephanie’s POV

I let out a faint sigh that died in the back of my throat, my eyes tracking the heavy door as it closed behind the PR Manager. She walked out with arrogant steps, her leather folder now signed and stamped by Vincetti.

Barely a few minutes passed before the door clicked open again.

The secretary stepped inside with cautious steps, carrying a polished silver tray topped with a steaming cup of dark coffee. Bowing slightly with noticeable tension, she set the cup onto his desk. She didn’t miss the chance to slide a sharp, inquisitive glance toward me as I sat on the sofa surrounded by scattered design pads, before quietly backing away and pulling the door shut behind her.

Not long after, the Head of Design entered a woman in her late nineties with sharp features and thick reading glasses. Carrying fabric catalogs and thread samples for the upcoming collection, she immediately dove into a firm, businesslike discussion regarding color palettes and production costs. Vincetti responded in brief, deep tones that cut off any further debate. He didn’t look back at me directly, but every now and then, he deliberately cast a heavy, lingering glance toward the sofa to ensure I remained a prisoner to his pen and orders.

The endless cycle of entries and exits dragged on for hours. The Chief Accountant arrived to present the budget, followed by the Head of Marketing carrying campaign boards, and his private security personnel delivering sealed files. The office transformed into a bustling hive managed by this devil with absolute authority, while I sat in my corner like a piece of decorative art or a prisoner under strict surveillance.

Every person who stepped into the room threw a muted, questioning glance my way, their eyes heavy with whispers and curiosity. The heat of humiliation flared hotter in my chest. I squeezed the pencil between my fingers so hard the wood nearly snapped, forcing sharp lines across the pad as I worked on the third gown. I wished I could plunge the sharp lead straight into his chest to end this degrading farce.

As the early hours of the evening set in, the corporate bustle outside slowly faded, and the streets beyond the towering glass windows darkened. My back grew stiff, my fingers aching from hours of holding the pencil. I had only managed to complete the fourth gown, having drained every ounce of my energy trying to balance intense focus against a wall of suppressed rage.

I closed the sketchbook softly, gathering my pencils with hands trembling from exhaustion. Pushing myself off the sofa with heavy steps, I gathered my tools and purse, making my way toward the door to end this daily nightmare and head back to my car.

"Are you finished, Miss Miller?"

His deep, motionless voice sliced through the room’s silence. I froze in my tracks, turning around slowly to find he had pushed the documents aside. Resting his elbows against the desk, he locked his sharp, unpromising gaze onto me.

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice into a neutral front to keep my composure. "No, not yet... I’ll finish the rest of the designs at home."

A mocking curve touched his lips as he shook his head in absolute refusal, leaning back into his leather chair.

"No, Stephanie..." he replied smoothly. "...You will stay right here, in this office, until all ten gowns are fully drawn."

I froze in place, anger boiling in my veins and rushing to my head. My eyes widened in stunned outrage as I stared at him, unable to stomach his overbearing glare.

"Have you lost your mind?!"

The words burst out before I could stop them, completely shattering the front of false submission I had tried so hard to wear this morning. Taking two fast steps toward his desk, I waved the sketchbook in the air.

"It’s seven o’clock in the evening! Official working hours ended long ago, and I’ve been working since morning without a single break! Finishing six more gowns requires an entire night!"

Vincetti didn’t move an inch. Instead, an icy coldness settled across his sharp features. Slowly opening his desk drawer, he pulled out a small silver key and tossed it onto the dark wood, its sharp metallic clatter ringing through the quiet room.

"And your working hours do not end until I say so, Miss Miller..." he murmured, his voice dripping with sinister authority as he laced his fingers together over the desk. "...You have a long night ahead of you. Either sit back down on that sofa and finish your work, or remain trapped in this office with me until dawn."

I bit my lower lip so hard I almost drew blood, exhaustion weighing down my body and mind. He knew exactly how to hold the reins, how to transform these glass walls into a private prison where he could flex his sick power.

I slammed the sketchbook and pencils onto the low table with a sharp thud, releasing a fraction of my boiling rage. Turning around, I threw my exhausted body back onto the leather sofa.

Taking a sharp, audible breath, I locked my eyes onto his, burning with silent hatred.

"Let’s get this farce over with."

A sharp cramp twisted in my stomach, and before a few seconds had passed, a loud, embarrassing rumble sliced straight through the dry silence of the room. My chest tightened with quiet dread. The constant thought of my unborn twins and the immediate weight of my responsibility toward them doubled my need for food especially since I hadn’t put a single bite into my mouth since morning.

Holding my breath for a moment, I leaned deeper over the sketchbook, pretending to be entirely absorbed in my work in the desperate hope that the sound hadn’t reached him.

Vincetti’s sudden movement, however, proved otherwise.

He pushed his chair back and stood up slowly. Sweeping his sharp eyes across the room toward me, he adjusted the button of his suit jacket, speaking in a dry tone:

"I’m going to get some food."

My head snapped up instantly. "I’m not hungry!" I snapped, my sharp tone trying to mask my deep embarrassment and tension.

The corner of his upper lip curled into a dark, mocking smirk. Slipping his hands into his trouser pockets, he stepped toward the door without giving me a single backward glance.

"And who said it was for you?" he murmured smoothly, clicking the door open. "It’s for me."

He left the office, leaving behind a heavy, suffocating silence broken only by the fading echo of his footsteps down the empty marble corridor.

I pressed my fingers tight against my eyes, squeezing until faint spots of light danced across the darkness behind my eyelids. Letting out a hot, ragged exhale, I sank my head back against the cushion of the leather sofa. My stomach twisted with another sharp pang, while tears of sheer exhaustion and humiliation gathered at the corners of my eyes.

Slipping a hand beneath the fabric of my dress, I stroked my lower abdomen with a soft, protective touch silently begging my two little ones to hold on just a bit longer, asking them to forgive me for putting them through this torment just to stay afloat in his sick, controlling game.

In those few minutes while Vincetti was gone, absolute stillness settled over the grand office.

Seizing the fleeting window of privacy, my trembling fingers reached into my purse to pull out my phone. But before my thumb could even unlock the screen, the device vibrated violently in my palm with an incoming call.

Cedric’s name flashed across the dark display in bright, uncompromising letters.

I slid the icon to answer, pressing the speaker against my ear.

"Cedric..." I murmured softly, swallowing hard as I tried to build a calm, steady front.

His tense, frantic voice erupted instantly through the receiver, cutting through the silence of the room:

"Stephanie! Where are you?! Official work hours ended long ago, and your car isn’t parked outside the house!"

Swallowing the dryness in my throat, I forced a steady, peaceful cadence into my voice, leaning my head against the back of the sofa.

"I’m still at the corporate office, Cedric... Some unexpected work came up at the last minute that I absolutely have to finish tonight."

"What?!"

His voice exploded through the phone, thick with suppressed fury and rising suspicion.

"At this hour?! Stay right where you are. I’m getting into the car and coming to pick you up this second. You are not staying in that building alone."

Panic seized my chest, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs at the terrifying image of Cedric walking into this office and clashing with Vincetti late at night.

"No! Please don’t come, Cedric!" I blurted out, my tone snapping with sudden, rigid authority.

I sat up straight, gripping the phone tighter.

"It’s really not necessary. I’ll wrap up this paperwork and drive back myself. Please... don’t worry about me."