think a title for:Rose
“Rose, please have a seat,” Mr. Pierre gestured to a chair in front of his desk, his voice calm yet tinged with an underlying seriousness.
Taking a seat, I braced myself for what was to come. The silence stretched, amplifying my unease. Finally, Mr. Pierre broke the silence, his voice measured.
“Rose, we need to discuss the events that unfolded during the client presentation,” he began, his gaze probing. “It seems there were grave errors and missteps. Can you shed some light on what transpired?”
I took a deep breath, my frustration and pent-up anger simmering beneath the surface.
“Mr. Pierre, I accept my responsibility for the mistakes made during the presentation, I should’ve been more professional.” I started, my voice steady but with a hint of defiance. “However, I must also bring to your attention the chaotic circumstances surrounding the incident. Catherine, who was responsible for the presentation, she abruptly snatched it away from me while she herself given me a very short time span to rectify it, and proceeded to make significant changes without consulting me or allowing me to correct it.”
I sat in the chair, my heart pounding in my chest, as Mr. Pierre's behavior took an unexpected turn. He stood upright, moved with an unsettling grace, circling around my chair, his presence becoming increasingly intimate. The atmosphere in the room shifted, and his proximity felt invasive, inappropriate for a professional setting.
His voice, dripping with a mixture of confidence and flirtation, cut through the air. “Rose, where do you see yourself in a year?” he asked, his tone laced with suggestion.
Startled by the sudden change in topic and the underlying implications of his words, I responded cautiously, cleaning my throat, “In a year? Well, I hope to be working on slightly bigger projects, expanding my skills and contributions.”
A smirk played on Mr. Pierre's lips as he leaned against the edge of his desk, his eyes fixed on mine. I barely maintaining the contact. “That's where you underestimate your worth, Rose,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more seductive register. “You have the potential to be so much more. Ten times the scale that you handle now. You could be right next to Catherine or even above her. won't you enjoy her as your subordinate?” 
His words sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of intrigue and discomfort. I tried to maintain a facade of innocence, not giving away my awareness of his ulterior motives. “Sir, what do you mean?” I feigned ignorance, hoping to gather more information while treading carefully. It’s out of question how Catherine is promoted so well despite her intelligence and way of handling tasks. “I'm not sure how to answer that.”
His chuckle filled the room, the sound echoing with a tinge of condescension. “You're adorable when you play innocent, Rose. But there is one simple answer to your question,” he murmured, then paused, “a yes, and a no,” he added, his gaze lingering on me. “Why don't we take a moment to enjoy the view from my penthouse? It's breathtaking at night. You can stay for dinner if you might, we can enjoy some more conversation.”
My frustration simmered beneath the surface as he continued to flirt unabashedly, his advances thinly veiled while his fingers tried to make way above my arms. I recognized the opportunity that lay before me, the leverage I could gain in the power dynamic between Catherine and Mr. Pierre. If I wanted to assert control over Catherine, I needed to navigate this delicate game with caution, manipulating the situation to my advantage. Both these bastards needs a lesson for not just for making vulgar advances on me but for the suffering of all those employees that have suffered the same.
I met his gaze, my eyes revealing a blend of curiosity and feigned interest. Without explicitly refusing him, I allowed a hint of coyness to slip into my voice. “The view does sound enticing, Mr. Pierre. Perhaps a quick glimpse wouldn't hurt. But I'm upset it couldn’t be today, I've already booked an appointment with friends for dinner. Maybe some other night. For now, I would like to go back to my desk to continue my rectification of the previous presentation.”
Inside, conflicting emotions churned within me. I despised the situation, the abuse of power and the objectification I was subjected to. Yet, a flicker of determination burned within me, knowing that I could potentially exploit this compromising situation to safeguard my own future and ensure that Catherine faced the consequences of her actions. 
In this treacherous world of corporate politics, I had to play the game strategically, preserving my own integrity while aiming to assert my position and reveal the truth that lay hidden beneath the surface.
I arrived home, a sense of relief washed over me, temporarily lifting the weight of the day's frustrations. It was then that my phone buzzed, indicating a missed call from Joseph. I quickly dialed his number, curious to know what he wanted.
“Hey Joseph, sorry I missed your call. What's up?” I greeted him, trying to sound cheerful.
“Hey Rose, no worries. I wanted to tell you that Mark really wants to show you something. He’s won first place in a drawing competition, and he's excited to share his accomplishment with you. Can we come over for dinner?” Joseph explained, a touch of anticipation in his voice.
 
A genuine smile formed on my face as I replied, “Of course! I'm in a great mood today, and I'm actually thinking of making something delicious. I'd love to see Mark's winning artwork.”
I could hear Joseph relaying the news to Mark, his voice filled with excitement. “Rose wants to invite us to dinner,” he announced, eliciting a cheer from Mark in the background. Well, I would rather call it a self-invitation. But who’s complaining. I like being around Mark, his spirits cheers me up.
With the plans set, I began preparing for their arrival. As the doorbell rang, I opened it to find Joseph and Mark standing there, Mark proudly holding a bouquet of red-white roses. A bittersweet feeling washed over me as I accepted the flowers. Mark kissed on my cheeks whispering, “I'm just the carrier today Rose, dad bought it for you,” knowing that it was Joseph's idea to bring them actually sounds a bit far-fetched.
“Thank you, Mark. These roses are beautiful,” I said, appreciating the gesture while also noting Joseph's involvement.
Mark beamed with pride, excitedly explaining, “Dad said bringing roses is a nice thing to do when you're invited for dinner. He's smart, right?”
Joseph chuckled, playfully tousling Mark's hair. “Yes, Mark, your dad is definitely smart. But it's your talent that earned you first place in the competition, and that's something to be truly proud of.” I added pointing at the bag he had hanging on his bag. He took the canvas out and showed me the work he created. An intriguing picture indeed but why do I find subtle resemblance to the colour of our hair.
“I draw you and won.” He cheered excitedly. 
“Well, how do I say it? it’s weird to see myself animated.” 
“Rose can you please frame it and put it in your wall?”
That was a weird request. “Now little guy why would you want me to do that. would you like it to be on your room walls.”
He pouted. “It’s because you don’t have any pictures of yourself in your home.”
I couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at the reminder of the past. Everything burned down and only a few things remained that I could claim as my own. It seemed like Catherine's influence was seeping into every aspect of my life, even in my cherished moments with Joseph and Mark. However, I pushed those thoughts aside, determined to enjoy the evening and celebrate Mark's success. 
“The dinner is still half undone, so you guys would have to entertain yourself.” joseph nodded folding his legs over while beautifying my simple couch.
Joseph glanced at me with a gentle smile, his eyes filled with concern. “Rose, are you sure you're feeling better? I don't want you overexerting yourself. I shouldn’t have give in to Mark’s demands.”
I reassured him, appreciating his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Joseph. I'm doing much better now, really. Just a little bump on the road, but nothing I can't handle.”
Mark, wide-eyed and captivated by the newfound bond forming between us, chimed in, “You're like a real-life superhero, Rose! You saved me from the evil clutches of boredom! Dad is always busy in his work.”
We shared a laugh as he pouted adorable, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth at Mark's adoration. “Well, Mark, every superhero needs a sidekick like you to keep the adventure going!”
I saw Joseph’s eyes gawking at my sketchbook from under the table. He picked it up not knowing my discomfort into sharing my intimate memories. As he turns through the pages, drawing of my past and present passing by until he sticks at one page. “Didn’t know you had this talent.” He mentions admiring the overflow of cuteness that seeps through the portrait I've created of Mark. 
“I look handsome.” Mark claps seeing himself on those pages.
Joseph's eyes sparkled as he turned the page and glanced at the photograph of little me, captured in time between the pages of my sketchbook. “Mark, look at this. It's Rose when she was young.”
Mark leaned in, his face lighting up with wonder. “Wow, Rose, you were so little and cute! I love your pigtails!”
I blushed, feeling a mix of nostalgia and amusement. “Ah, yes, the pigtails were quite the fashion statement back then. I was quite the trendsetter, you know.”
Joseph chuckled, raising his wine glass in a toast. “To the girl-next-door with a penchant for pigtails and an undeniable charm. Cheers!”
I smiled, “I'll get the food.” The decorated the table with the food I cooked while Mark helped setting the table.
Once done he called his dad petting his tummy. “Come on, Dad! The food is calling our names, and I don't want my tummy to start growling like a hungry monster!”
Joseph laughed. “Alright, alright, no need to unleash the hungry monster! Let's satisfy its cravings with Super Rose's extraordinary feast!”
Mark nodded eagerly, his voice filled with excitement. “Yeah, and maybe the Mac and cheese will give us superpowers! I hope I can shoot cheese lasers from my fingers!”
As we sat down at the table, Mark couldn't contain his excitement. He leaned in, whispering loudly, “Hey, Super Rose, if I eat enough Mac and cheese, do you think I'll grow taller than Dad?”
I played along, feigning a thoughtful expression. “Hmm, the power of Mac and cheese is legendary, Mark. Who knows? Maybe one day you'll be towering over your old man!”
Joseph joined in the banter, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, Super Rose, if that's the case, we'll need to have a Mac and cheese eating contest to see who can grow taller the fastest!”
We all burst into laughter, the absurdity of our conversation bringing joy to our hearts. 
Mark, unable to contain his excitement any longer, blurted out, “Can we have dessert too, Rose? Please, pretty please with cherries on top?”
I couldn't resist his adorable plea. “Of course, Mark! We can't forget about dessert. How about we have some ice cream sundaes? We can each create our own superhero-themed sundae!”
As Mark finished his ice cream creation, he looked up at Joseph with a mischievous grin. “Dad, can we have ice cream for dinner every night? It's way better than broccoli!”
Joseph chuckled and ruffled Mark's hair. “Sorry, buddy, but your superhero strength needs some green veggies too. Ice cream can be a special treat once in a while.”
Mark pouted playfully. “But Dad, superheroes don't need broccoli! They run on ice cream and superpowers!”
I joined in the laughter, chiming in, “Well, Mark, maybe we can find a way to make broccoli taste like ice cream. Broccoli-flavored ice cream. Superheroes can do everything.”
Mark scrunched up his face in mock horror. “Eww, that's a superhero's worst nightmare! I'd rather save the day with a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough!”
Joseph grinned at Mark's enthusiasm. “Alright, superhero-in-training, we'll strike a deal. You eat your veggies for a week, and we'll have a surprise ice cream treat waiting for you every Saturday.”
Mark's eyes sparkled with delight. “Deal! But remember, Dad, you have to eat your veggies too!”
As the laughter subsided, a more serious topic entered the conversation. I took a deep breath and looked at Joseph, my expression shifting to one of concern. “Joseph, there's something I need to tell you. You know Catherine, the general manager at my office? Well, she's been making everyone's life a living nightmare.”
Joseph's brows furrowed in curiosity. “Oh? What has she been up to?”
I leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “I saw something today that will make your jaw drop. Picture this: Catherine, the notorious manager, coming out of Mr. Pierre's office with her skirt askew, frantically fixing her hair. Guess what? They're having a secret affair!” I'm a typical gossip monger at this point.
Joseph's eyes widened in disbelief, and then a mischievous smile spread across his face. “Well, Pierre is kind of notorious for his perverted advances on those below him.”
 “I know, right? The scheming manager and the CEO's son, sneaking around like a secret spy mission. It's like a soap opera in our very own office! I'll make a lot of noise if it gets out. I think they had it coming.”
Joseph chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Rose, my dear, you've stumbled upon the juiciest scandal in town. But what's your plan? Are you going to expose them?”
I winked at him, a devious glint in my eye. “I have something even better in mind. It's time for some undercover mischief. Catherine's going to get a taste of her own medicine, and trust me, it'll be epic!”