Tyler sat at the edge of his seat, gnawing anxiously at his nails as his hazel eyes surveyed the room absentmindedly. His black hair laid as still as night against his sweaty forehead and his plumb bottom lip recurrently hid between his teeth before slipping right back out.
Physically, he was in his office, but mentally, he was elsewhere. His anxiety stemmed from two things. 1. His fiancé not picking up anyone's calls and 2. His fiancé not picking up HIS calls.
To some, there might not be any difference between the two, but Tyler was a man who didn't like to be disregarded nor disrespected. He was fine with Jessica ignoring her family's calls, however, Tyler himself was a different case. He couldn't even sit still in this situation. After all, their marriage was a week away...A WEEK! How could she go MIA now of all times!? Did she want him to die of anxiety?! Or was she just torturing him only to show up a day before the wedding?
Tyler yanked his finger out of his mouth, his teeth breaking one side of his fingernail in the process. He was sick and tired of his mother pestering him about her whereabouts, he was irritated at having to sit and wait for his secretary to fix this situation and worst of all, he was worried.
But what he was worried about wasn't his fiancé but himself. If anything were to happen to her, he would be doomed. This wedding had to happen. She could run around with a million different guys and go clubbing every night...she could even die for all he cared, as long as they were married.
Tyler only cared about the company...nothing more. Marrying a woman with a good family background would make his father happy and if his father was happy then he would have a better chance at succeeding the company. At this rate, however, he would soon be demoted to a regular employee...or worse, he would be kicked out of the company and made into a pauper.
A soft knock interrupted Tyler's thoughts, alerting him of his secretary's arrival; Ishmael Cork. He sighed, straightening his shirt before entwining his fingers and resting them on his desk. He was stressed, but nobody needed to know that. In this life, he was known as the definition of perfection. Getting worked up over a slut like Jessica, would only make clueless people look down on him.
"Knowing your skills, I suppose you've brought good news?"
His gruff words prompted her to open the door and step inside, her black heels clicking against the floor noisily and her dark chocolate brown hair bouncing behind her. Tyler looked up at her, eyes holding anticipation along with a small hint of irritation.
Ishmael stopped in the centre of the room and tensed a bit. She certainly didn't want to tell him the bad news. Her ears couldn't take the aftermath. But he needed to know, delaying telling him the truth would only make him a dozen times angrier when he finds out...and nobody likes to see nor be around him while he's in that state...nobody.
She cleared her throat, preparing herself to speak. "Based on my findings, I've thought of a possibility. Please keep in mind that it is only my speculation, however, the chances that I am wrong is a little less than one percent. Upon searching her room and checking a few cameras, I've found th--"
Tyler cut her off with a lift of his hand, his eyes downcast as his jaw clenched. The cap on his anger had easily popped. "If it's not Jessica, then I don't care what you've found! I gave you three days, Ishmael! That's more than enough time to find her whereabouts!"
Ishmael squeezed her eyes shut then opened them, whilst rubbing her sweating hands against her black knee-length skirt. It was coming. Tyler's wrath was coming...she could tell, yet the only thing she could do was to try and pacify him. "Sir, it is not that easy. Her friends and family have not been in contact with her sinc-"
Tyler slammed his palm unto the desk, sending a jolt of terror through Ishmael's body. "I don't want you to tell me if its easy or not nor do I want to hear your speculations and whatnot! What I want is for you to find her!" He looked up at her, a rush of anger spreading through his hazel eyes as he spat his words. "Or do I need to get this done myself!?"
Hearing this, Ishmael quickly jumped into action. "N-No sir!" She said hurriedly, hand swiping away the sweat that ran down the side of her face. "If you will let me, I will g-get this d-done as soon as possible. I promise you."
Tyler sighed and slouched his usually upright shoulders slightly. "You have until tomorrow," he finalized, shooting her one last glare before diverting his attention to the laptop sitting atop his desk.
"But sir-"
"Dare to disappoint me and you're fired...for good." He waved her off with his hands. "Now get out of my sight."
Ishmael didn't dare to push him any further. Speaking out now would only get her fired within an instant rather than tomorrow. She had been working alongside Tyler for ten years now and yet, she still wondered how he could possibly disregard both her age and their years of partnership. She was turning forty this year for god sakes! One would think that he would have atleast shown some sort of respect, but that has never happened...ever.
Tyler was cold towards everyone, even his own family. The public knew nothing of this, but everyone who knew him personally, knew not to provoke the beast to anger, otherwise, there would be hell to pay. His anger was not an easy thing to handle, which is why Ishmael didn't know how in god's name he would react when she manages to tell him that Jessica had possibly eloped overseas with another man.
One thing is for sure...Jessica would not get out of this unscathed whenever he finds her....and neither will the person who breaks the news.
