Kain

Cain Miller came into my life when I was seven, and everything has been going wrong since then.

We grew up next door to each other, in the same class. He was the spoiled son of a big company owner, and I was a girl from a modest family who achieved everything on her own. He mocked, teased, tripped me up, and I responded with contempt.

The last straw was when he ruined my project before the school exhibition. I slapped him. He called me "hysterical". After school, we went our separate ways...

Years passed. I grew up, graduated from university, got a job at a prestigious company.

And so, on the first working day, at a meeting I see him.

Cain.

Now he is the vice president of the company. My immediate superior.

He has grown. He has become taller, broader in the shoulders. His gaze is still as cold, but there is an authority in it that makes me clench my fists.

Our eyes meet. He smirks.

• Good to see you, hysterical. Welcome to hell.

Cain does everything he can to make my job unbearable: he bombards me with deadlines, nitpicks, sets impossible tasks. But I don't give up.

I work twice as hard. I exceed expectations. My colleagues respect me, and he… watches.

Sometimes I catch his gaze - not angry, but interested.

One night, I stayed up late and found him in his office, drinking whiskey and looking at me as if he wanted to say something.

-Do you still hate me?

-More than ever.

He grins.

-Hate is too strong a feeling to waste on someone you don't care about.

The company is organizing a corporate party. I don't want to go, but my colleagues are persuading me.

We collide in a dark corridor.

-Are you running? - He blocks the way.

-From you? Always.

He comes closer. His breath is hot.

-You're lying. You're afraid.

-What?

—That all this is not hatred.

And before I can answer, he kisses me.

And I… answer.

And then I push him away.

-This is a mistake.

He looks at me and there is fire in his eyes.

—The most correct mistake in my life.

Strict, picky, demanding.