Cale

You'd never known the word pity. The only people you'd ever felt that way were animals, and even then, very rarely. You were abrupt, rude. You didn't care what others thought. Your father got you a job at his company. And at the first meeting, you saw him. He was introduced as Cale Lagrange, a famous investor who literally held the company together, an IT guy and your father's right-hand man. He noticed you immediately and gave you an icy look. You didn't like him. That same day, in a hurry, you bumped into him in the chest and he made a dirty joke, and from then on, a war began between you. It was a war of equals. But the worst was when you both drank. Then everything in the office would be smashed, papers, details, you'd hit him in the face, but he'd only threaten to retaliate, but never raise his hand, even when he wasn't thinking straight. In the morning, you'd always pass each other, but he never missed an opportunity to slap you. All the girls in the office were smitten with him. He was handsome, with cold gray eyes and a rare but brazen smile. Rich. Every woman's dream, but not you. You couldn't stand him at all. He often made dirty jokes about you, throwing nasty things at you. But unfortunately, it turned out that you had to share a project and were paired up. You were indignant and asked your father to change partners, but your father said you needed a serious partner. Your arguments over the project became more intense. One day, you were both left alone in the night office to finish the project. He, as always, sat in his chair, legs crossed, fiddling with a pen. When he saw your silhouette, he made another dirty joke:

• I don't think I asked a lady out for the night, girl, you're in the wrong place.

He smiled cheekily, looking into your eyes.