Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Raffaele Ferrara lifted his gaze from his computer. He was leaned back in his chair, his posture seemingly relaxed. He had removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing strong forearms corded with thick muscle.
Thick. Powerful. Everything about this man screamed strength and power, from his wide shoulders to the biceps straining his white shirt. His hard face with glinting dark eyes just added to the whole unnerving picture.
Nate forced himself not to fidget.
They stared at each other for a long moment.
Finally, Nate couldn’t take it anymore. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Well?” he said, breaking the silence first. “What did you want from me? Hurry up.”
Ferrara’s eyebrows twitched. He was probably surprised Nate wasn’t tripping over his own feet to please him, as everyone else did.
Then, Ferrara looked at the sheet of paper in front of him and said, “Nate Parrish, twenty-two years old. Lives with his sister. Bachelor of Science in Computer Science and Game Development, recently graduated from Northeastern University. GPA 3.96. A—”
“What the fuck?” Nate said, more confused than angry. “Did you stalk me?”
Ferrara gave him a flat look. “I don’t ‘stalk’ anyone. I have people who gather information for me.”
“You mean you have people who do the stalking for you.”
“Sit.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Sit.” Ferrara’s voice was like a whip.
Nate wasn’t proud of himself, but he did as he was told. He didn’t know what it was about this man that made it very difficult to disobey him.
“Now what?” Nate grumbled.
Ferrara’s heavy gaze made him want to squirm. “You do realize that your behavior today was very unwise, considering your chosen profession?” Although it was a question, there was so little inflection in Ferrara’s voice that it seemed like a statement.
Nate tensed up when he realized what Ferrara was implying. “Are you threatening me?”
“I have better things to do with my time than threaten little boys who don’t understand how business works.”
Nate clenched his fists on his thighs. “Then what is this? Why did you make me wait for three goddamn hours to tell me that?”
Ferrara’s expression was dismissive. “You were their ringleader. I removed you to make you stop disrupting people’s work. But I didn’t intend to make you wait this long. I simply forgot about you—until security sent me a file on you.”
Nate spluttered with indignation. He’d forgotten about him? But before he could say anything, the dickhead continued.
“Considering your chosen field of work, antagonizing a major game publisher before you even have a job in the industry is beyond stupid. I’m surprised by your lack of foresight.”
Nate’s stomach clenched. He’d known that participating in the protest was a little risky if he wanted to work in the gaming industry, but no one knew him yet—he was supposed to be just one of the many protesters. It should have been perfectly safe.
“Or was it supposed to be a job application?” Ferrara said, his voice dry and sardonic. “Then I’ll have to turn it down. We aren’t interested in hooligans.”
Nate flushed. He hadn’t actually intended to apply for a job at RD Software, the AAA video game developer and publisher that was a subsidiary of the Caldwell Group—he had wanted to start smaller, at indie studios that allowed more freedom—but now that this dick was implying that his company was too good for Nate, fuck that. He burned to prove him wrong. He didn’t even care that he all but had a job already. The small independent studio he’d had an interview with yesterday had promised to call him soon—they had seemed really impressed with the platformer he’d developed for the job interview.
But at this moment, looking at Ferrara’s dismissive expression, he didn’t give a damn about anything besides proving him wrong and then rubbing it into his arrogant face. The asshole thought his company was too good for Nate?
“You know what?” he said, lifting his chin. “Let’s make it a job application. This hooligan can make a better game than the incompetents who made Rangers 5.”
Ferrara laughed. Somehow, even his laugh was dismissive and condescending.
Nate balled his hands into fists. “Something funny?”
“Your ambition would be… admirable if you knew how to behave with your superiors.” Ferrara’s lips curled. “It’s not even the fact that you have little experience in designing games. Your naïve views about game development are what makes you unsuitable for my company. You don’t have what it takes to work at a big company like this.”
Nate got to his feet, his lips trembling with rage. “Then let’s make a bet, shall we? You assign me any job in your company, and if I do my job competently for—for half a year, you admit that you were wrong, remove the microtransactions from Rangers 5, and give me a glowing recommendation letter when the six months are up.”
The black eyes stared at him, unreadable. “Why should I make a business decision based on some juvenile bet?”