C9 CAMEL'S BACK.

Brandon never knew that Satan had a sibling living on Earth until he met Ethan.

He realized that Ethan was either ruling Hell with his brother or was totally in charge. Most times, he wished that Ethan would meet a terrible end and justice would be served in his afterlife. But, that would be a waste of energy because Ethan might be a reincarnation of someone from the afterlife. How could a human being with a conscience be so cruel? Or maybe it was just him. This one was soulless. No heart. No soul. Just a handsome, tall billionaire occupying a body.

It was so hilarious when many people spoke kindly of him, talking about how he had helped them in life because he was involved in so many charity events and really did give back to society. Was he trying to maintain a good image while being a terrible human being? How pathetic! He should be proud of nature to the core. However, who would believe a servant over such an adorable master? People would see it as Brandon trying to make him look bad due to his laziness. They would just try to come up with something uncreative.

Then again, bad people always did that. A perfect and believable image outside while showing their terrible side at home. Brandon just had to make sure that he didn't become a victim of that play.

“Schedule,” Ethan said briefly, sipping on his vodka.

'How can someone be sipping vodka while working?' Brandon snapped but didn't dare to show it. He looked at his notes. “A meeting with the expansion team at 10:10. Then you need to be at Louisiana Enterprises for the board meeting at 11:00. The phone call with your sister at 11:50 about the partnership deal. Kendrick Perkins has requested a meeting at noon regarding the acquisition of the new jet—”

“Decline,” Ethan cut in without even looking at him.

Brandon glared at him. “It took me two months to get an audience with Mr. Perkins,” he ground out. “It’s bad for the company, too. You know that our rivals have been pushing to get their attention for a while now. I had to walk through hell to get them on our side. We need them to balance—”

“Next,” Ethan said. “I’m not in the mood for your small talks.”

Brandon took a deep, calming breath. “I’ve finished compiling the report you requested,” he said, handing his boss the report he’d barely managed to finish before Ethan’s arrival.

The man opened it and skimmed it with his gaze.

Brandon held his breath.

“It’s inaccurate and incomplete,” Ethan said at last in his emotionless, dismissive voice. “You didn’t consider the past transactions with the ones in progress? You didn't consult the finance department and most of the figures do not correlate with the total. And the media department too was left out. You need to offset the total income before getting a sensible result. This was shabby work. Do it all over and have it in my office by 10:00.” He turned and headed to his office.

“It’s already nine, and you gave me two other tasks already.” Brandon scowled at his back, but at this point, he wasn’t even surprised. He was used to it. He was used to his boss’s horribleness. To his ridiculous standards and demands. He’d had no choice but to get used to it. The worst mistake of his life was making a bet with Satan himself. He barely had time for frivolity and fun like he used to. No time for home or his sister. He wasn't used to not having time for his sister and other fun activities.

Every day, he arrived at the office several hours earlier than he should have because his workload was so crazy, Brandon couldn’t hope to finish it during work hours. Then, he had to have Ethan’s breakfast ready by Ethan’s arrival. Brandon was now an expert at making black coffee—because it was the only type of coffee that existed, as far as Ethan was concerned. Well, at least he got his coffee right. A black coffee for a black soul. Thereafter, Brandon was expected to write and then perform a thousand different tasks, running up and down the building a hundred times a day, typing up ridiculously long documents in a ridiculously short time, and traveling between the Wings subsidiaries and Louisiana Enterprises like a superhero. He rarely returned home before ten at night, mentally and physically worn out.

Brandon was pretty sure he was being abused. Workplace abuse, except he had no evidence to hold Ethan accountable. He never forced him to do overtime. It was all on Brandon, who chose to do everything willingly. Yes, that was right: he did it willingly. Call him insane, but he would be damned if he proved the asshole correct and crumbled under the pressure. He was going to be the best damn assistant Ethan had ever had—or die trying.

Brandon was pretty sure everyone in the company thought him insane. He was also pretty sure everyone was right. And the worst part was, he never got even the smallest hint of praise when he managed to successfully perform the most impossible tasks. Of course not. Praise wasn’t a word in Ethan's lifestyle. Not that he wanted Ethan’s praise or something. Of course not. Brandon hated him. God, did he hate him? He hated him for everything he was. He hated him to the point that he sometimes literally shook with it, wanting an outlet for that hatred, wanting to dig his fingers into those cold, arrogant black eyes and make him bleed. That was brutal, but that was the extent of his feelings.

Brandon had never considered himself a violent person. But he’d been forced to revise that opinion ever since he started working for Ethan because he very vividly and very often imagined wrapping his hands around Ethan's handsome neck and squeezing—

The intercom came to life. “My office, Brandon,” Ethan said as Brandon was still imagining his chaotic takeover.

Brandon glared at the screen of his computer before marching into the office. Maybe he would lose it today.

“Is the report ready?” Ethan said, without looking at him.

Brandon bit his lip. “It has only been a few minutes, sir,” he said in the most pleasant voice he could manage. It wasn’t very pleasant. “The report needs more consultation from the finance department and the media director.”

Ethan fixed his eyes on him. “And?”

“It is impossible for me to run the stairs and meet both directors, then type the report before submitting it to you. Taking into consideration that I had to take care of both tasks that you gave me first. I am not a ghost. Cut me some slack. But I will have it ready before the end of the day. Sir.”

Ethan hummed, eyeing him like a predator would eye its prey. Brandon knew that this asshole deliberately gave him impossible tasks just to see him explode or fail. But Brandon was so determined not to give up. He was fucking determined to deny him that satisfaction.

“Fine,” Ethan said. “Have Brenda finish it up. I have another task for you. Go book me a hotel and get condoms.”

Brandon’s mouth opened in shock, but he quickly shut it. “A hotel and...condoms?” he repeated, feeling his face heat up.

“Yes, that’s right. Is there a problem with that?” Ethan’s tone was sharp and condescending.

Brandon’s mind raced. He wanted to argue, to tell Ethan where he could shove his condoms, but he bit his tongue. “No problem, sir,” he said stiffly. He turned on his heel and left the office, feeling Ethan’s cold eyes boring into his back.

Once outside, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. He would do the tasks, as ridiculous and humiliating as they were, and he would do them well. He would prove to Ethan and to himself that he could handle anything thrown his way.

Brandon marched back to his desk, picked up the phone, and started making calls. He booked the most luxurious hotel room he could find and made a discreet trip to the nearest pharmacy for the condoms. His hands shook with anger and frustration, but he forced himself to stay focused. This was just another challenge, another hurdle to overcome.

When he returned to the office with the hotel confirmation and the small, discreet bag, he knocked on Ethan’s door. “Your reservations and...supplies,” he said, placing them on the desk.

Ethan glanced at the items, then back at Brandon. “Good. Now get back to work on that report. I expect it on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Yes, sir,” Brandon said through gritted teeth. He turned and left the office, his anger simmering just below the surface. He wouldn’t let Ethan break him. He was stronger than that. He would endure.

Back at his desk, Brandon sat down and took a deep breath. He opened the report, ready to dive back into the numbers. The day wasn’t over yet, and there was still so much to do. He pushed all thoughts of anger and frustration to the back of his mind and focused on the task at hand. This was his job, and he would do it well, no matter what Ethan threw at him.

But he didn't get the time to focus as Ethan called him back into his office.