SEBASTIAN’S POV
I strode into my office, my mind still preoccupied with the earlier meeting. Suddenly, Roland’s face flashed before me, and I remembered the report he was supposed to deliver.
“I should probably call him right away,” I muttered to myself, reaching for my phone in my pants pocket.
But my hand closed around empty air.
My heart sank, and a surge of annoyance coursed through me. “Where did I leave it?” I demanded, my voice laced with frustration.
I scanned my desk, scouring every inch, but my phone was nowhere to be found. My irritation grew, boiling into a simmering rage.
I hated misplacing things, the wasted time, the pointless searching. It was infuriating.
“Where the hell did I put the phone?” I growled, slamming my fist on the desk.
My mind racing, I tried to recall my last conversation, my last steps. But the more I thought, the more frustrated I became.
“Why now?” I seethed, exasperation etched on my face.
Just as I was about to lose my cool, a knock at the door interrupted my frantic search.
Just before I could speak, the door creaked open, revealing my secretary, Mina.
“What do you want, Mina?” I groaned, my eyes narrowing in irritation.
Mina’s timid voice only fueled my frustration. “Sir, I just wanted to remind you of your 2 p. m. meeting.”
My frown deepened, and I struggled to contain my anger.
But then, like a flash of lightning, I remembered where I’d left my phone.
Mina, sensing my distraction, pressed on. “Sir, will you reschedule the meeting or attend it?”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I strode past her, my long strides eating up the distance to the parking lot.
Relief washed over me as I opened my car door and spotted my phone on the seat.
I grabbed it, feeling a sense of salvation.
Without hesitation, I dialed Roland’s number as I headed back to the office.
But my anxiety quickly turned to annoyance as the call rang unanswered.
Roland wasn’t picking up.
My mind raced. Why wasn’t he answering?
I’d been on edge all day, desperate to hear his update.
I paced around the room, my feet heavy with frustration, my mind racing with anxiety. I couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease that had been building up inside me.
“Damn it!” I muttered to myself, feeling helpless and impatient. Roland, my trusted associate, had gone dark, ignoring my calls. I needed to reach him urgently.
I settled into my executive chair, trying to compose myself, but my fingers trembled as I dialed his number again. The phone rang, and rang, and rang, with no response.
My anger simmered, boiling over with each passing moment. “Why isn’t he picking up?” I growled, slamming the phone onto the table.
Fury and frustration coursed through my veins. How could Roland ignore me like this? Didn’t he know how crucial this was?
“Where the hell could he be?” I demanded, staring at the blank computer screen, my eyes blazing with irritation.
My thoughts swirled, consumed by Sasha’s pending decision and Roland’s inexplicable silence. My mind refused to focus on anything else.
A pile of work sat in front of me, but I couldn’t muster the motivation to tackle it. My usually sharp focus had deserted me.
I sighed tiredly, trying Roland’s number again, but the result was the same silence.
“That’s it! I’ve had enough!” I bellowed, slamming my fist on the desk. I shoved the phone away and forced myself to start working, but my anger and frustration lingered.
I stared blankly at the papers on my desk, my mind consumed by frustration and worry. I had a mountain of work to tackle, but focusing seemed impossible.
“Come on, Sebastian, concentrate,” I muttered to myself, trying to shake off the nagging thoughts.
But all attempts to focus proved futile. Roland’s silence and Sasha’s pending decision haunted me.
Exasperation gripped me, and I slammed my fist on the desk. “This is ridiculous!” I growled, grabbing my car keys.
I rushed out of the office, driven by a desperate need to find Roland. Why wasn’t he answering my calls?
As I drove, I tried calling him again, but the result was the same silence.
“Pick up your freaking calls, Roland!” I shouted, pounding the steering wheel.
My anger boiled over, fueled by helplessness. “What’s going on with him? Why the hell isn’t he answering?”
I arrived home, parking my car roughly in the garage. My sole focus was finding Roland.
I burst through the front door, slamming it shut behind me.
“Welcome back, sir,” one of the maids greeted, her smile faltering as I ignored her.
I didn’t care. My concern was Roland, not pleasantries.
I stormed through the house, my annoyance and frustration boiling over. I couldn’t bear the thought of small talk or pleasantries.
“Where the fuck is he?” I muttered to myself, seething with anger and desperation.
Another maid approached, her cheerful greeting grating on my nerves. “Good day, sir.”
I scowled, my impatience evident. “Where’s Roland?”
Her face fell, and she hesitated. “I haven’t seen him anywhere around the house today, sir.”
My mind reeled with worst-case scenarios. He hadn’t been home all day? Where could he be?
“I see,” I said curtly, dismissing her.
She bowed respectfully and left, leaving me to stew in my anxiety.
I trudged to my room, slamming the door shut behind me. I collapsed into a chair, mentally exhausted and fuming.
“Why isn’t he answering?” I growled, my thoughts racing.
Is he ignoring me on purpose? Or is something terribly wrong?
The uncertainty gnawed at me, fueling my anger.
“He made me come all this way, and he’s still not home?” I shouted at the empty room.
I sprang from my chair, restlessness and desperation coursing through my veins. I paced around the room, trying to think of my next move, but every idea seemed futile.
Frustration clawed at me, and I grabbed my phone, my fingers flying across the keyboard.
“Roland, where the fuck are you, and why aren’t you picking up my fucking calls?” I typed, anger and exasperation pouring into every word.
I sent the text and waited, my eyes fixed on the screen, willing a response to appear. But there was nothing. No read receipt, no reply.
My anxiety spiked, and I felt my control slipping. This was torture.
I dialed his number again, my heart racing with anticipation and dread. “Please, pick up,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
If he didn’t answer, I’d lose my mind. Patience had abandoned me hours ago.
As the phone rang, my agitation grew. “You better pick up this time, Roland,” I growled.