The Tycoon's Obsession

KYRA POV

If ‘exhaustion’ was a meal, I’d be sad now. My eyes ached as I gently massaged them with my left fingers while my right fingers dragged itself along my laptop’s button. The burning sensation from staring at the bright light emitted from my laptop’s screen was slowly kicking in a migraine on the left side of my head.

I slowly raised my eyes from the screen and moved them to the little window in my room. I heard a sign I wasn’t aware of escaping from inside me as I stared at the rising morning sun. I definitely must have lost track of time somewhere in the middle of the night. I drifted my eyes back to my laptop and slowly surveyed what had kept me awake throughout the night.

I knew the story was spectacular but deep down somewhere inside my mind I knew what would be the result, but I begged to differ. This was a story on one of the most popular festivals in the world ‘THE GALA 22’, who wouldn’t want to read about such a big event in a magazine. I was quite confident about this story this time, and I hope Mr. Jackson would also see it from my side this time.

I swiftly dragged my fingers on the keypad, finally writing the last paragraph of the whole story and just then, my table alarm decided it was time to gracefully remind me I had to prepare for another annoying day of work. Putting off the alarm, I snatched my eyes to my laptop as if my brain were unconsciously searching for a mistake that could earn me scolds.

“This had better be good this time.”

I silently prayed as if I was saying my last prayers at the point of death. Saving the document and shutting down the laptop before keeping it in my bag and immediately stripping my night robe off and wrapping my towel which was hanging on my room door around my body, then proceeding out of my room to be greeted by the long dark hallway of my house. I looked at my brother’s door across from my room for any sign of light, but was just greeted by dark shades of nothing.

“He might still be asleep” I whispered to myself and probably thin air in the hallway. I let my eye wander off to my mum’s room at the end of the hallway and saw a tiny reflection of light, making me sign almost loudly.

I turned back to my side and moved straight down the other end of the hallway, where a bathroom my brother and I shared. I slowly opened the bathroom door, making sure I was doing it as quietly as possible. I didn’t want to disturb my mum or even wake Kenji.

I stood in front of the tall but thin glass standing at a far corner of my bedroom. My bedroom was huge for someone as poor as I was, but let’s just say the whole house was big. I was still living in my mum’s house or should I say my estranged sperm donor’s house AKA My father.

Mom had told us he had bought the house for her when he found out she was pregnant with me, so she was fully entitled to it after he decided it was best to walk out on his pregnant wife and his three years old daughter. It’s funny how I can’t seem to even remember his face, but scrap that, his story is for another day. I dreaded even remembering his topic. I twirled in front of the mirror again, I was very cautious of my dressing today and I couldn’t explain exactly why, but I had a feeling my subconsciousness was just wary of meeting my boss today. I dragged myself out of my room after severally encouraging myself that the day was going to go on well.

I walked down the stairs as I heard small plate noises coming from the kitchen. On entering, I met my mother, who had her back to be as she was focused on what she had on the stove. I allowed my eyes to roam on her body, and I felt something squeeze my heart, almost stopping the way it pumped blood.

She looked extremely lean, almost so pale, and that hurt so much. She has been suffering from diabetes for years now, but it was becoming worse these few days and to worsen it all her medications were elapsing, and I’m too broke to buy new ones or even go for a medical checkup. She was the main reason I wanted a promotion at work so badly, but my boss just decided he was going to be the thong in my neck.

She finally turned around, probably after feeling my presence. She greeted me with her always captivating smile which seemed to just hide all her pains deep inside a well in a desert.

“Oh Ayra, I was just thinking of coming to wake you when I’m through with this”

She pointed at the already dished sandwich. I immediately fought back the tears that were about to fall from my eyes when I was staring at her previously. She hates when we cry because of her.

“Mom, will you ever call me Kyra?” I joked. I hated the name ‘Arya’ because it was the name my dad gave me, but for some reason my mum loved calling me that. She smiled again as she placed the plate of sandwich on the kitchen table in front of me.

“I love the name.” she replied swiftly, making me sighed aloud enough for her to hear, and I immediately began munching on the sandwich.

“Kenji didn’t come home last night.” I could hear the worry lacing off her voice like butter spread on hot bread. She tends to be terrified and worried anytime Kenji doesn’t come home. She always feels he would disappear like how our father did.

I understood her, but I also understood Kenji. He was an Architecture student, and he tends to have numerous assignments and projects which might delay him or might allow him to hang around with his best friend, but my mum just seems to never want to listen to those excuses.

“He is probably busy at school. He’d come home when he was free.” I continued to munch on my food as if I knew she wouldn’t listen to me.

“But he always called anytime he wasn’t going to come home.” I rolled my eyes inwardly.

“Okay, I will call him when I get to work.” I stood up, took my plate to the sink and began to wash it. Immediately I was through, I picked my bag that I had kept on the table and turned to my mum who was now sitting on a table and slowly munching on some vegetables.

“I will see you later. Don’t forget to take your drugs and get some rest. Call me if anything happens.” She nodded and walked out of the kitchen and the house.

.………………………..

I cursed as I swerved my way along the crowded street of New York. I roughly held my wrist to my eyes as I continued to run and cursed again. Another thing I dreaded in my life was trying to maneuver my way when I’m going to work every day. It was like fighting in the front line on a battlefield.

I felt relieved flow through every corner of my body as I gradually sighted my tall office building, ‘THE GAZETTE’ written largely in front of the building. Immediately I leapt into the building I was greeted by my best friend and colleague Tracey standing there with two cups of coffee which had become her daily routine.

“And you are late again. At this point, I would say you just love being scolded. Did you perhaps forget to tell me you were into BDSM or maybe have a kink for being scolded”.

A smirk perfectly seated on her face made me roll my eyes.

“Just give me the d*mn coffee.” I snatched the cup from her hand and started walking to the elevator with Tracey at my trail.

“Did you complete the story?” I heard her voice just as we entered the elevator. I just nodded as I silently prayed about how my fate was going to be decided once I reached the 27th fall of the building.

I suddenly felt Tracey’s hand on my shoulder trying to reassure me that everything was going to be okay, but I knew deep down nothing was okay.

KYRA POV

“What the hell is this Miss Simmonds? You call this a story?” Mr. Jackson's voice echoed loudly inside his office, and I felt a shiver run through my whole body. I suddenly felt like I was standing on the cold street without a cardigan on.

“ You want us to publish a story on an event every other magazine company has written something on?” I could definitely hear the anger in his voice, and it confused me. It was true, other companies were already writing this about The Gala, but I made sure what I had written was entirely different from others.

“But Mr. Jackson, The Gala is a very popular event and everyone wants to know everything about the event. I was sure to confirm that what I wrote was entirely different from what other companies wrote.” I explained, but I could see all over his face that he wasn’t buying what I was saying.

“ Miss Simmonds, one thing I’m sure you know and every other person in this company and the world knows is that The