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One Month Earlier.

Sebastian chewed on the tip of his pen while the woman across his desk stared diligently. He knew that look from anywhere. Sex eyes. She was literally drooling. It was rather embarrassing. Does no one respect a married man anymore? His wedding ring was practically in front of her face. Whore. Bet she'd do anything for this job. Hell, it almost looked as if she'd do it for free.

He gave a low husky laugh while keeping his thin lips stapled and eyes glued on her resume.

"Miss Duncan, if you could be anywhere in this room right now, where would you be?"

Her eyes betrayed slight panic to the question asked while her voice rushed tardily through the stairway of her throat to the doors of her lips, "Where you are."

"Pardon?"

She shifts uncomfortably. Nervous. Clearly not processing her words safely.

"I meant to say, on your chair."

Sebastian glazed his eyes over the woman's demeanor. He could sense her unease. Her suppressed panic. "Are you implying you want my position?"

"No, I-"

"So you don't want to progress?"

"I mean-" she stuttered.

"Why are you applying for this position?"

Before words were able to spill out of her mouth, the office door swung open. "Brother," she addressed Sebastian in a snarky manner as she always does, and in complete disregard towards the interview being conducted. Gregory, the level 5 office receptionist, rushed in. "Sir, I'm so sorry. I tried-" His hands were making motions into the air, trying to make up for his uneven words and lack of breath. Sebastian couldn't blame him, no one could have ever told Vivian what to do. Instead, he raised a hand and nodded to dismiss him. Turning back to the interviewee, he stood apologetically as she also mirrored.

"I apologize, please wait outside and I'll ensure that your interview is conducted with Mrs. Madox."

Vivian sighed tiredly and dropped her Loui purse at the side of the sofa, while sinking into the softness of the cushion. Her grey knee-length dress clung to her towering body like glue, while she propped an elbow on the hand rest. "She looked petrified. I suppose she should thank me for rescuing her from this terrible interview I assume she was having?" She laughed softly as she pushed her sunglasses to rest on her tightly combed blonde hair.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Vivian. Why the hell are you here?" Sebastian scowled disapprovingly at his sister's energy.

"Can't I pay a visit to my darling big brother?"

Ignoring her presence, he turned on his laptop, opened an unfinished document, and began working.

"How's that wife of yours?" Vivian continued without his response, "You know, I find her very odd. There's something about her. I just can't quite put my hand on it. Oh, you find me so judgmental brother, but one day that bitch is going to ruin you."

"Why are you here, Vivian?"

"Terilla ran away with some boy again. I cannot deal with her teenage hormones. She threw a tantrum at me and stormed out of the house. I give no shits about the little shit, but you know how Mother and Isaac are."

"Then leave her. Let her be."

"She is the sperm of your father, is she not?" Vivian snapped.

"She'll learn."

"And what? Show up to the house with a swollen belly? Who do you suppose will be granted the responsibility of caregiving for the rancid infant? Not you, brother, me."

"Then clearly that is not my responsibility."

Vivian stood in vexation, "If our whore sister bears a child, I'm killing it." Grabbing her purse off the sofa, she frowned while walking out the room yet stopped at the frame of the door, "And, mother wants to see you."

***

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