Dose 𝓔ighteen

Dose Eighteen Observations:
Subject appears caught off guard.

⨳ ⨳ ⨳

The next morning, I sent the contract over to my mother as she specified.

I also kept a low profile at work, determined to lay low until my mother figures this all out.

Maybe it is best if I just disappear into the shadows.

I mean, after thinking about Monroe’s question—about an arrangement solving anything…

I realize it was impulsive.  

That healing isn’t about trying to correct what happened, or even rewrite it.

It could be empowering, sure, but I don’t think it would truly fix anything deep inside me.

I’ve already fucked up.

Yes, by even coming back here.

But also by allowing myself to be alone with Monroe.

And now there’s this craving.

One that comes with being held by her.

I hated it.

Or maybe I hated myself for craving her or letting her hold me in general.

It’s like each time I see her, I’m left with deeper thoughts, and it’s genuinely starting to make me go insane.

I’m not sure if it’ll ever go away.

If the thoughts centered around her will go away.

Every single time, I seemed to revert to avoiding her again, even this time.

And she lets me every time, which never fucking helps.

I feel like psychologically there’s a reason for this, and she knows exactly what it is.

By the time Friday came around, I was genuinely itching for some kind of update from my mother’s lawyers, but they seemed to be combing through every inch of that contract still.

There are probably no loopholes, knowing the Leclairs.

I just need a way out of coming to this stupid fucking skyscraper prison every day.

I swear, Friday didn’t feel relieving knowing I had to be back here in two days’ time.

I also had that stupid gala that I was forced to attend as a Levane employee.

It was all everyone was talking about.

Whether it was what they’re wearing, when they’re getting there—if they’ll have food, or what drinks will be served.

There were so many fucking topics surrounding this stupid gala.

It felt like one of those balls that a Queen and King have of pure pity for peasants.

My goal was to show up for maybe an hour and then leave.

At least Zion would be there—and Grayson, whom I never really see outside of work.

Plus ones weren’t allowed, so Sarai wouldn’t be attending, unfortunately.

“I’m doing silver,” I repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, earning a few nods from Grayson seated across from me.

“You’re even more chipper than usual, Fierro,” Grayson joked with me as I glanced over, noticing Dr. Wexler walking into the tech division.

It was Friday, so she had her usual tray of milkshakes in her hands.

Last week I missed out, so I was actually excited to get my hands on these this week.

I wanted to try the strawberry instead of the double chocolate I had last time.

“I think I’ll be a lot more chipper with one of those,” I murmured to Grayson, standing from my chair as I nudged Zion, too.

He glanced away from his computer with furrowed brows, sliding his headphones off.

“Milkshakes,” I emphasized, motioning over to Dr. Wexler, who was now surrounded by our coworkers grabbing their own milkshakes.

“Gotta have one,” he determined, standing from his seat to walk over with me and Grayson.

Dr. Wexler had her red hair tied back, the usual cracked glasses hanging low on her nose.

“Thanks, Wexler,” Grayson said first, giving her a nod as he grabbed the chocolate milkshake.

“Yes, thanks,” I quickly said, grabbing one of the strawberry ones.

“You’re most welcome,” Dr. Wexler said with a smile on her lips as Zion grabbed one of the vanilla milkshakes, telling her a brief thank you.

I was excited to get back to my desk and start sipping on the milkshake.

It was a nice treat after a long morning.

The afternoon is always the hardest to push through, but this extra sugar would definitely help me.

I furrowed my brows, glancing over when everyone else seemed to turn their heads toward the hallway.

Even Dr. Wexler looked over her shoulder, hearing the sudden frantic clicking of heels and Briggszilla’s faint voice echoing.

I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

But for once, she actually sounded anxious.

Her tone of voice, how squeaky it sounded.

Everyone seemed to be confused.

Even I was fucking confused, wondering what was going on.

Maybe it was the gala?

She could be talking to herself or event planners right now.

Is that even a part of her job title?

Then I finally made out the next sentence she said.

“Monsieur Leclair, I-I deeply apologize. We would’ve planned accordingly if we knew you would be in today—”

“It is unnecessary to plan for my presence,” I heard his deep voice echo, making me stiffen, “You women are very uptight. Go take a break, perhaps a walk,” he added, his tone joking yet so fucking condescending.

I was struck frozen at his presence, verging closer and closer.

Leon Leclair.

He’s in Seattle.

Of course, he is. There’s a fucking gala.

He’ll take any chance he has to establish his presence over Monroe, as usual.

I’m not even surprised if he makes this entire event about him.

Fucking narcissist.  

I looked over when everyone quickly sat down in their chairs, smoothly hiding their milkshakes under their desks.  

Dr. Wexler’s eyes were wide, and I knew essentially she couldn’t walk out of this division without running into Leon in the hallway.

I’m assuming Leon doesn’t approve of Friday milkshakes?

He probably doesn’t approve of a lot of things—I’m sure everyone was relieved when Monroe took over.

“Chipper,” Grayson whisper-yelled, swatting the air for me to sit down.

His blue eyes were wide—and Dr. Wexler was still fucking stuck frozen by the door.

I wasn’t even surprised by their fear, how everyone refused to look over at the hallway again.

Their eyes were glued to their computers, probably praying they were invisible.

“Liberty,” Zion nudged me three quick times, telling me to sit down.

But it was too late.

There was Briggszilla.

With Leon by her side.

He stopped in his place to look over at the tech division, almost like he knew to look.

His dark eyes were as soulless as I recalled, his bald head shining like he fucking polished it himself.

He probably has someone do it for him.

The white button-down he wore was crisp, not a wrinkle in sight, with cufflinks nearly gleaming under the harsh fluorescents.

“Monsieur Leclair,” Dr. Wexler greeted the man first, nodding in Briggszilla’s direction, who looked stiffer than she ever had before.

Which says a lot.

I watched Leon’s dark eyes zone in on the tray in her hands, holding three more milkshakes to give out.

It almost looked like her hands were trembling.

“Dr. Wexler,” Leon said, his deep voice coating the dead silent air. “I wasn’t aware that head scientists of your pay grade had time to be in the tech division. Are those…” he trailed off, disgust growing on his face. “Milkshakes?” he said the word like it was entirely foreign to him.

“Yes,” Dr. Wexler said, her tone hesitant. “I quite agree, it was a one-time thing, monsieur,” she added, her British accent heavier and more frantic.

It was a lie.

She makes these milkshakes every Friday.

Probably not anymore.

Count on Leon to suck the fun out of anything.

“Well, it appears your workload could be heavier,” Leon observed, glancing up from the milkshakes.

He was silent for a few beats.

And Dr. Wexler didn’t move an inch—I contemplated whether she was even breathing.

I flinched when Leon’s boisterous laugh echoed throughout the tech division.

I even noticed Dr. Wexler wince ever so slightly, nearly losing control of the tray in her hands.

“This is quite amusing,” Leon determined, rolling his shoulders back. “Wouldn’t you say? The standard of Levane is upheld by milkshakes of all things.”

“Yes-yes, quite amusing, monsieur,” Kara didn’t hesitate to agree, noticeably clutching her iPad to her chest like it was a stuffed animal.

“Madame Fierro.”

I pursed my lips, snapping out of their conversation, I was so zoned in on.

That’s when I realized—

I was still standing.

“Hey,” I said, not bothering to put on a smile or respectful expression like everyone else.

Kara’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head at my greeting.

“She’s a new hire,” Kara blurted, stepping forward anxiously.

“I’m aware. I am the one who had her hired, oui?” Leon said, stepping forward into the tech division, past Dr. Wexler.

Kara nodded almost four times in a row, following behind him like a lost fucking puppy.

Meanwhile, Dr. Wexler didn’t hesitate to rush out into the hallway, taking any opportunity to make her exit.

“How are you adjusting to Levane, Ms. Fierro?” Leon just had to ask, making conversation with me despite how eerily silent everyone was.

“Terribly,” I purposely said, not bothering to impress him.

I swear, Kara looked like she was about to pass out from my answer alone.

“She means, it’s a little difficult—”

“I intend to have a meeting with my daughter,” Leon cut Kara short, his beady eyes on me. “You’ll attend as well.”

“Can’t,” I murmured with a fake smile, “I just have so much work to do,” I sarcastically added, refusing to glance away from him out of weakness.

“Your work can be assigned elsewhere,” Leon said, his lips spreading into the most charismatic smile, yet it felt condescending.

Almost like he was saying—

It’s amusing that you think you can get out of this.

Fuck him.

“It can easily be re-assigned—” Kara quickly glanced over. “Grayson.”

“On it,” Grayson didn’t hesitate to say, hesitantly glancing up from his computer.

“That was quite an easy fix,” Leon said, his eyes concerningly empty. It always makes me feel unsettled. “Join us, Ms. Fierro.”

I didn’t have a chance to say anything else.

Leon turned around to leave the tech division entirely.

I didn’t plan to take a step forward.

Much less, follow the man.

But then Kara gave me the most narrowed look, which I couldn’t care less about.

Until she grabbed me by my arm, nearly dragging me along to follow Leon.

“Let go,” I whisper-yelled, tugging away from her.

“He asked you to join—so you’re joining,” Kara tightly whispered as I jerked my arm out of her grasp.

“Fucking fine. I can walk on my own,” I pointed out lowly.

“Is everything well back there?” Leon asked, briefly glancing over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Kara said, her posture stiffening.

“Just peachy,” I sarcastically said at the same time, earning another narrowed look from Kara.

A dramatic sigh fell from my lips as we walked down the hallway, my steps more reluctant than theirs.

I can’t believe I got dragged into this.

I’m not sure why I even have to be at this meeting with them.

This is between him and Monroe—I have nothing to do with them.

Or at least, I want nothing to do with them.

I glanced over, noticing Sienna’s dark eyes subtly wide as we walked closer.

I could see her trying to hide the fear suddenly unlocked inside her.

How caught off guard she was by Leon’s presence.

He genuinely just dropped in without a word said.

I mean, I guess he can do that since this used to be his company.

But I also think he enjoys it.

He enjoys instilling fear in people.

“Should I tell Dr. Leclair—”

“I can enter my daughter’s office without an introduction, Sarah,” Leon cut Sienna short before she could finish.

And I swear I had to purse my lips to hold back my laugh at the name he used for her.

But a chuckle still slipped from my lips, earning a nudge from Briggszilla.

“Ow,” I said as we passed Sienna’s desk, even if it didn’t hurt in the slightest.

“I’m sure that didn’t hurt nearly as much as those stripper heels you wore all day,” Kara bit back, making my expression twist into irritation.

 “I’ll stab you with those heels,” I threatened back in a mumble, approaching the familiar double doors.

“You don’t have the arm strength to do anything,” Briggszilla shot back, earning a sharp scoff from me.

“Says you, saggy face,” I added in a whisper.

“Ms. Briggs,” Leon suddenly said, making Kara immediately tense up.

I couldn’t help but smile at her sudden fear.

“You may leave us,” Leon said as he reached for one of the door handles.

“Of course, Monsieur Leclair,” Kara didn’t hesitate to say, backing away from us.

I didn’t miss the chance to flash her the brightest smile I could fathom.

“Have an excellent day, Kare bear,” I called out as loudly as I could. “You know she tells us to call her that?” I purposely told Leon, who looked over his shoulder.

My words were enough to make Kara’s face turn beet red, her lips parting and closing again like a broken slot machine.

“I-I have not, Monsieur Leclair, I assure you—”

She cut herself short when Leon let out a bored sigh and turned around, opening the doors to his daughter’s office.

Kara shot me the most narrowed look I had ever seen from her, balling her hands into fists by her sides.

It made me laugh as I turned around, following Leon into Monroe’s office, even if it was the last thing I wanted to do.

Monroe was seated at her desk as usual, her blue eyes already pinned on her father.

Her expression was calm, but I knew there was a deeper turmoil unraveling inside her.

Then her stare shifted to me—

And she sharply stood from her chair, scraping the wheels of the office chair against the floor.

She wore a black long-sleeve top and matching dress pants that clung to her waist and were intentionally baggy around her legs.

Her brown hair was down, and her bangs were perfectly brushed to frame her face.

“Liberty, you may leave.”

It was the first thing she said as she rounded her desk.

I assumed she was going to approach Leon, but instead, she casually sat on the edge of her desk, leaving one leg to dangle and the other on the floor.

“You will stay, Ms. Fierro,” Leon declared just as I took a step back.

Monroe tilted her head at her father, clasping her hands together.

It made my attention dart down, staring at her short nude nails.

“If you want to chat,” Monroe’s soft voice echoed. “She leaves.”

Leon’s lips spread into a smile. “She’s required for this chat, mon bijou,” he clarified. “You are aware that Ms. Fierro is attempting to get out of her contract?”

Monroe nodded immediately, but I could tell by her stare that drifted to me—

She didn’t know.

It was something about the look behind her eyes.

Disappointment maybe?

“Are you aware that I hate working here?” I suddenly said, causing Leon’s attention to divert to me. “I hate being in any kind of proximity with your daughter, and especially you. Everyone here hates you. I’m sure you’re aware of that, too?”  

I subtly glanced over, noticing Monroe’s soft lips subtly tilted up like I hadn’t just said I hated being here with her.

I’m sure she somehow liked that, though.

“Fear builds respect, Ms. Fi—”

“I can promise you no one respects you. They just want to keep their job,” I unconsciously cut him short, making his smile disappear quicker than I could fucking blink.

It made my stomach twist so harshly that it made me feel nauseous.

Monroe sharply stood up when he took a step toward me, but I didn’t flinch.

I didn’t move at all, refusing to give him that satisfaction.

“This is now my company. I won’t hesitate to have you escorted out,” Monroe said to him, her soft voice still as calm as ever.

Emotions get you nowhere with these people.  

“That’s not how this works, mon bijou,” Leon determined, his beady eyes calmly locked on me. “Ms. Fierro won’t interrupt me again. There should be no need to escalate anything.”

I parted my lips—

“Liberty can do anything she pleases, especially in my office,” Monroe emphasized before I could speak, now walking closer to us.

Or past us?

Monroe walked entirely past us toward the doors.

“Liberty,” was all she said, making me glance away from Leon.

I blinked a few times, noticing she had opened the door—she wanted me to leave.

“You have yourself a great day, Mr. Leclair,” I purposely said, putting on a fake smile just for him. “I know I will—now that I can get away from here.”

I turned on my heel before he could say anything else, refusing to meet Monroe’s stare as I walked past her.

“Ms. Fierro,” Leon suddenly called out, his tone as emotionless as ever. “There aren’t loopholes in your contract. You will stay for the specified term.”

I tried not to react to his words.

I tried not to stop walking.

“Save your lawyers the time,” he added, making me clench my jaw.

Monroe closed the door behind me before I had a chance to say anything in response, and I knew it was on purpose.

But he got the fucking last word.

Why is he even here?

I mean, on this earth, living his life like he’s not fucking evil.

Where is his karma?

I let out a deep sigh, briefly squeezing my fists by my sides.

Then I counted to ten in my head.

And back to one, trying to care about each number.

But recently, I’ve started to care less and less.

My technique has started to fall short, and I knew I needed a new one as soon as fucking possible.

“Sienna,” I mumbled, noticing her brown eyes were on me like she had nothing better to look at.  

Her overall presence was more irritating than it needed to be right now.

“Liberty,” Sienna said with a curt nod.  

I tilted my head. “You know, they call you her shadow?” I purposely asked. “You follow her around like a literal shadow.”

Sienna narrowed her eyes just slightly, but didn’t say anything.

I wanted her to say something.

I think I wanted someone to argue with.

“It’s my job to cater to Dr. Leclair’s needs,” Sienna suddenly said, making me lazily raise my brows.

“What a weird thing to say,” I murmured, purposely furrowing my brows like I was confused. “You’re her assistant, not her girlfriend.”

Sienna didn’t give me much more of a reaction, which didn’t help the fire burning inside of me.

“You’re not either,” she subtly said, “Or at least anymore,” she purposely added, making me hum.

Very tightly.

I don’t know what possessed me.

Genuinely.

Because the next thing I knew, I was walking toward her, lifting my hands to—

Push all the paperwork off her desk.

Sienna gasped so loudly that it echoed.

“You’re right,” I said, smiling as I took a step back. “But she won’t fire me anyway—you, however. She’ll fire you.”

I didn’t let her say anything else.

I walked around her desk, leaving her there, dumbstruck with wide eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” Sienna’s voice echoed as I walked down the hallway. “You have issues. You’re crazy, and I know you hear me!”

I only kept walking, a smile growing on my face.

I felt just a little better now.

I fucking knew it.

I knew Sienna was more invested than she needed to be.

Not that it matters.

Anything regarding Monroe doesn’t matter.

“What happened?” Zion asked as soon as I walked into the tech division.

“I can’t believe Mr. Leclair specified you like that,” Grayson said as I stopped at my desk. “Kara grabbing you by the arm had to be the highlight of my entire year—it was hilarious.”

“Are you good, Libs?” Zion asked as I began packing my things.

“I’m going home,” was all I said, shoving my chargers and phone into my bag.

I didn’t say anything else as I turned around, exiting the tech division entirely.

I could feel everyone’s stare burning into me, but I genuinely didn’t care about anything right now.

I need to calm down.

I also wanted to go home and be with Jynx—and pretend like this wasn’t my reality.

The worst part is, I have to go to that fucking gala tomorrow and face my reality again.