Lina entered the office, her hands trembling as she walked toward Daniel. She didn't dare glance at the floor, where shards of the first mug still lay like tiny reminders of her humiliation. The warm coffee in her grip trembled slightly, threatening to spill, but she tightened her fingers around the cup and kept moving.
Carter's eyes met hers. Pity flooded his gaze. He wanted to do something—anything—but the thick silence between them told her he couldn't. Not right now. The files from the earlier deal were still spread out in front of them like nothing had happened. Like a fucking mug hadn't been thrown across the room a few minutes ago.
She placed the second cup of coffee in front of Daniel, silently praying this one was good enough. She was afraid—no, she was fucking terrified. Her breath caught when Daniel reached for the cup. He brought it to his lips, took a long sip, then said… nothing.
Lina didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad one. But silence was better than yelling, and definitely better than flying ceramics. She thought maybe—just maybe—the sugary black coffee was to his liking. She had overcompensated, turning it into something closer to syrup because he'd said earlier he wanted sugar. The man didn't know what the hell he wanted, and she was just trying to keep up.
Maybe he wanted it like that.
She inhaled sharply, whispered a quiet thank you to God, and stood there, waiting for the storm to pass.
But it didn't.
Daniel stood up slowly. Calmly. Too calmly.
And then, with zero warning, he poured the fucking coffee right on her.
Lina froze.
Her blouse soaked instantly, and the sticky warmth of the sugary coffee clung to her chest and stomach, seeping through the thin fabric. Her hands shot up like she could somehow stop it, but it was too late.
Her eyes widened in horror, her body stiff with shock. She looked like a deer caught in headlights—except the headlights were hellfire and humiliation.
Carter stood instantly. "Mr. Viggo," he said, his voice low but tense, the kind that makes everyone in the room feel it in their chest. "That was too much."
He didn't yell. He didn't cuss. He was still careful. This was Daniel, after all. The fucking Devil in a tailored suit.
Daniel didn't even look at Carter. His eyes remained on Lina, cold and cruel.
"Make another one," he said flatly, waving her off like she wasn't standing there dripping in coffee and tears.
Carter opened his mouth again, like he had more to say, but nothing came out. Maybe it was the power Daniel held. Maybe it was timing. Or maybe he was just trying to avoid making it worse for her.
Lina didn't wait. She turned and walked out of the room, shoulders hunched as if trying to disappear. She didn't care who saw her crying now—her face was soaked, just like her clothes.
She cried the entire way to the break room.
Inside, her hands shook as she prepared another coffee, this time making sure it was just pure, plain black—nothing else. No sugar. No syrup. No fucking guesswork. Just the kind of coffee that should've been right from the start.
She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand as she stirred it, trying not to sob again. Her clothes clung to her body uncomfortably, the wet fabric starting to cool against her skin. But she couldn't care. She just needed to survive this one last trip.
She took the cup and walked back to Carter's office, stepping carefully around the broken mug still on the floor. When she reached Daniel, she placed the coffee in front of him again. This time, he took a sip, gave a quiet "hmm," and waved her off with a flick of his hand.
No yelling. No mug-throwing. No coffee-showering. Just a fucking "hmm."
Lina turned around and walked out as fast as she could, tears silently streaming again. She rushed to her own small office, pushed the door open, and went straight to the attached toilet. It took her twenty minutes to wash herself off as best she could. The coffee had soaked through her blouse, her bra, even her skirt. She had to rinse her hair a little, wiping her face repeatedly until she looked somewhat okay again. She didn't want to cry anymore. She was done fucking crying.
When she finally came out, she saw a neat stack of fresh clothes folded on her desk. She stopped in her tracks.
A blouse. A skirt. Even a bra and underwear. Her eyes widened slightly, and then softened. She didn't need to guess who it was. Only Carter would've thought about this. No one else would know what had happened or care enough to bring her anything.
She smiled a little—the first real one of the day—and changed quickly, grateful for the clean clothes. They smelled like fresh linen. Soft fabric, neutral colors. Just her style.
Just as she finished dressing and sat down in her chair again, there was a knock on her door.
"Come in," she called softly, still trying to calm her breath.
The door opened, and Carter stepped inside.
She stood up immediately, unsure of how to react, but he held up a hand.
"Sit, Lina. Please."
She did, heart pounding.
He walked over and took the seat across from her, folding his hands together.
"I came to apologize," he said after a beat. "On behalf of Daniel."
"You don't have to," she said quickly, waving it off with a tight smile. "Really."
"I want to," he insisted. "It's important to me. What he did was wrong. It was uncalled for."
She nodded, but the tears were threatening again, this time not from fear, but from how kind he was being.
She looked down at her hands. "I'm okay now."
"To make it up to you," Carter continued, "I'd like to take you to lunch."
Lina opened her mouth to refuse. "I'm supposed to be working on the perfume project—"
"I'm your boss," he cut in, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. "I decide when you take breaks. And right now, I'm deciding that you need a break."
She laughed softly, despite everything. "Okay. Just lunch."
"Deal."
They went to a high-end restaurant, the kind of place where the air smelled like money and the tablecloths probably cost more than her rent. Carter let her order whatever she wanted. She got grilled salmon with creamy mashed potatoes and buttered vegetables. He ordered steak, medium rare, with wine on the side.
The food was perfect. They didn't talk much, but the silence was comforting, not awkward.
After they were done eating, Carter paid the bill and they got up to leave.
But as they walked toward the exit, a waiter bumped into Lina—hard. Her shoulder jerked backward a little.
She looked up, expecting at least an apology. The waiter just sneered, muttered something under his breath, and walked away like she didn't exist.
Carter's entire demeanor changed. His eyes darkened, steps halting as he turned slightly.
"What the fuck—" Carter started, but Lina quickly grabbed his arm.
"It's fine," she said softly. "Really. Don't worry about it."
"You okay?" he asked, looking down at her with concern.
"Yeah," she nodded, swallowing. "Just… wait for me in the car. I'll clean up first."
He nodded, still visibly irritated, but didn't argue.
Carter left for the car.
Lina walked quietly to the ladies' restroom.
And as she closed the door behind her, she finally exhaled.