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"Hello," a tall, brooding man stood in front of Crissle's desk, his sharp features matching the deep tone in his voice.

"Hi," Crissle smiled, "you're the three o' clock?"

"Yes ma'am," he chuckled, "Richard Moyarti is my name."

"Alright, just one minute. Take a seat over there," she pointed to a small lobby in the corner. He nodded, walking over and sitting in a chair.

Crissle walked into Zayn's office and closed the door. He was in the midst of eating a sandwich when he looked up.

"Oh, come the fuck on," he groaned with a mouth full of turkey sandwich. He chewed his food and swallowed.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, "okay, clean this up, please," she walked over to his desk anyway, throwing away wrappers and setting his papers according to when she gave them.

"Thanks, love," he said with no smile on his face. It was business time and she knew that, "send him in."

Crissle nodded, walking out and over to the tall man. "He's ready for you, sir."

"Thank you darling," he smirked, walking behind her to Zayn's office. Crissle's brows furrowed as she started to feel uncomfortable around this man. Zayn gave her a look but she ignored it, gesturing for Richard Moyarti to sit down. She closed the door and waited by it until further instruction.

"Mr. Moyarti," Zayn smiled pleasantly, shaking the older gentleman's hand and sitting back down, "to what do I owe this pleasure of meeting you?"

"Mr. Malik," his voice was still raspy like he was a chain smoker, "I just stopped by to say hello. And my company is sending over some workers tomorrow--"

"Crissle, pass us scotch, please," and it sounded a little harsh but she understood his business mode completely. Crissle walked over to the small table filled with alcohol.

"I tell, you, Zayn. You have mighty fine employees working here. Especially that assistant."

Oh, brother.

"She looks like she has a lot to...offer, should I say?"

No, you shouldn't.

"She's the hardest worker here," Zayn replied easily as Crissle set their glasses down. She poured scotch in Zayn's glass first and felt him subtly squeeze her thigh in a thank you sort of gesture. She moved onto Mr. Moyarti's glass and felt a hand brush her knee.

A big, cold hand. Definitely not Zayn.

"You may leave, Ms. Sinclair," she put the bottle back and looked at Zayn, whose features totally hardened as he stared at the man across from him. He didn't look at her and she was grateful, Zayn was intimidating sometimes.

"Goodbye, Ms. Sinclair," Richard spoke up.

She didn't answer, instead, closing the door on his way out.

"Richard, huh?" Andrea muttered, leaning against Crissle's cubicle.

"How'd you know?"

"Your face says it all," she chuckled, "he's an absolute pervert and he changes assistants every two months because all he does is fuck and get bored later."

"Wow," Crissle raised her brows and sat down, "not surprising, though. He touched my thigh and I think Zayn noticed."

"Ooh," she cooed, "your boy--"

"Not my boyfriend," Andrea recently took a liking to calling Zayn Crissle's boyfriend and Crissle didn't know how to feel about that.

They didn't even know each other.

"Anyway -- ooh, the bosses are coming," she took a chair and dragged it over to Crissle's cubicle, sitting down right before Zayn's office door opened.

Richard Moyarti was pale in the face coming out, while Zayn had one full of satisfaction but he still didn't smile.

"Good day, ladies," he muttered, walking past them without so much as a glance back.

"Andrea," Zayn breathed with a faint smile, "every time I exit my office, you're not in yours."

"I'm taking a break," she replied with a grin, "tired."

Zayn shrugged, staring at Crissle, only, she wasn't looking back at him. "Hey."

"What?" she replied solemnly.

"Where'd he touch you?"

She gulped. "Who?"

"Cris--"

"Nothing happened and even if something did I wouldn't tell you."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because you'd get mad."

"I'm pretty mad now," he snapped, "I'm going to ask again. Where did he touch you?"

"No--"

"Her thigh," Andrea chirped. Crissle sent her a glare and she shrugged. "He has to know, Cris. Any form of sexual act in the workplace needs to be filed and taken directly to the boss."

"Oh, now you wanna follow the rules?" she crossed her arms.

"I'm glad. Come with me," Zayn told Crissle but she stayed put, "babe."

"I'm fine," she sighed.

"I didn't ask you that. Come on," his features softened and he crouched down so he was eye level with her, "please?"

She felt herself nod and before she knew it, Zayn was pulling her into his office. He closed the door and held her against the wall.

"Criss," he whispered, "why do you not want to tell me?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, not meeting his eyes, "I've dealt with it before so I kept it to--"

"Before?" he repeated, "here?"

"No, no. A different office. It was brushed under the rug so I decided to not say anything anymore."

"Please tell me next time," he pleaded, "I'm glad I caught it now, but please?"

Crissle sighed, surprised at how vulnerable he looked and sounded just now.

"Promise?" he smiled genuinely.

"Promise."

"Pinky--"

"Zayn," she slapped his shoulder and giggled.

"There's my smiling little assistant," be grinned, kissing her cheeks, "you drive me crazy and make me happy all in the same breath."

"I still wonder how all of a sudden you started fucking with me."

"What do you mean?"

"Dunno. I thought you hated me and just thought I was a stupid assistant."

"I think I've always felt attracted to you, in some way. The day you came in, I just..." his eyes glazed over and he smiled at her, "and then...I hit you and pushed you and I felt like shit every time. But the business side of me told me to not care. It told me to not find out where you lived and comfort you."

"That wouldn't have been a good idea anyway," she sighed.

"Why?"

"I hated your fucking guts," Crissle laughed, "I dreamt of stabbing you at one point."

"Harsh," he feigned hurt, "I'm sorry."

"Don't mention it."

"Okay," he kissed her lips finally, "God, you're beautiful."

"I know."

"Lemme take you somewhere," Zayn pleaded, holding her hands in his and backing up. She of course followed, sitting on his desk while he stood between her legs.

"Where?" she asked.

"Can't tell you that, love. But," his hands rested on her thighs, "just dress casually, yeah?"

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hey guys double update because I love you all

and overprotective zayn??? adorable asf

bye xx