| Nathan |

The blue color of the glowing numbers on my alarm clock were the only source of light that filled my large room. I had been gazing steadily at these numbers for approximately ten minutes now, or ever since I had woken up.

5:13 am.

I waited, somewhat anxiously, as the time ticked by, for the alarm to ring at precisely 5:15.

Most people found the unmistakable blare of their alarms to be not that unlike a call from the devil himself, unceremoniously awaking them from their blissful sleep.

I, on the other hand, thought the sound of an alarm clock to be one of the best sounds this world had to offer. It simply was a friendly announcement that the day had begun and that you were now allowed to vacate your bed. Sleep held no bliss of any sort for me, so rising in the morning came completely naturally, and I found myself most days, like this one, waiting for the blaring of the clock, so I could then begin my day.

Just on time, the alarm went off and I was quick to hit it, shutting it off. I rose, walked swiftly to my closet, turning on the light and entering. I picked out a work-out shirt, shorts, a clean pair of socks and my sneakers. Once I was dressed, I headed out of my bedroom and down to my personal gym.

I jogged thirty minutes on the tread-mill, working up a light sweat and continued a basic workout for the morning. Then I headed back upstairs and climbed into the shower at 6:03, right on time.

Soon, after washing my hair and my body, I emerged from the steaming bathroom, a towel secured around my hips and I made my way to my closet again. By this time, the maid had been in my room, opened the shades, made my bed and left.

I picked out a light grey suit, a dark blue tie and a simple white dress shirt. I changed, exited the closet, styled my hair, grabbed my brief case off the side table in my room and was downstairs at exactly 6:48.

Antonio, my chef, had already prepared breakfast for me, and had a fresh cup of coffee waiting for me. I set down my case, and pulled out my smart phone, preparing to answer some emails.

"Morning Mr. Price." He says shortly, as he continued his work in the kitchen, not saying anything else. He knew I wasn't one for pointless small-talk.

I acknowledged him with a quick nod, sitting down at the bar and drinking the one cup of coffee I had each day. I never had more than that, I knew that one it really held no benefits at all and two it was addictive. I had to be careful, I tolerated nothing less than complete control in any and all aspects of my life.

I scrolled through emails, answering some and ignoring the pointless ones. I continued scrolling.

"Nathan." Hums a fluttery voice behind me, Antonio finishes quickly and bows out.

"Danni." I say, not bothering to look up at the blonde girl who had just entered the kitchen from the guest bedroom where she had stayed last night. I never let any woman into my room or into my own bed.

She glided over to me, sitting down in the bar stool beside mine and leaned in, forcing me to look at her.

"Last night was..." she trailed off, running her manicured nails over my tie, a confident, soft smile playing on her lips. I flinched at the contact, I never let anyone touch me without my permission.

"The last time." I say firmly and her smile falters.

"But I- I just thought..." she shakes her head. I stared at her intensely, she knew this was coming. "Well that's not important, because I won't give up."

"I meant what I said, you know I don't do relationships." I say, reciting the same lines as I did with most girls I brought home the morning after. But, in most cases, what I said didn't have an effect on them, and only left them convinced they would be the exception.

"Well..." she let out a sigh, fluttering her fake eyelashes at me. "I'll see you around Nathan." She stands, kissing my cheek gently and then gliding out as quickly as she had entered.

Once she was gone, I let out a short breath. I enjoyed the silence of my home, when it was disrupted by meaningless people I got slightly pissed off. I finished my coffee, collected my things and made my way downstairs to my own parking garage.

Paul, my driver, opened the back door to my Rolls Royce and I climbed in.

"To the office Mr. Price?" he asks shortly after he got in too.

"Yes Paul." I say and he starts the car. We drove through the Manhattan streets, which were already alive with different people going here and there, at 7:30. Soon the car pulled into the parking garage under the tall, glassy building that was my company.

I got out, picked up my brief case, thanked Paul and then made it into the office at exactly 7:52.

I would also not tolerate anything less than perfection in all things, mostly work related. Walking tall, I made it through the downstairs lobby and to the crowded elevator, which immediately cleared at the sight of me marching down the hall way. I didn't smile, I didn't nod and no one had anything to say about it. My eyes were focused straight ahead.

Those who cleared the elevator going up waited patiently for the next one to arrive while I got one all to myself. I rode in silence, the quiet whirr of the machine echoing as it rushed me to the top floor. I straightened my tie, smoothing down the front of my suit with my palm. I straightened out the cuffs, and glanced at my watch, I had a meeting in half an hour.

It came to a halt, letting me off at the top floor.

My assistant, Martha, scrambled to her feet at the sight of me, bringing the Starbucks coffee I never drank, into the office after me. She began to debrief me on my day. I had meetings, a presentation and at the end of the day I was going to yet another fancy dinner party to meet with some new investors.

I didn't instigate this, my brother and business partner, Jackson did. He was the one who set things like this up and I headed the company, handling things behind the scenes.

"Mr. Price." squeaked Martha's voice, startling me from my thoughts as she finished going over my schedule.

"Yes?" I ask curtly.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you Martha." I said, dismissing her without even glancing at her petit form ducking out of my office. She was new here, a timid little thing, but I liked that. People with big mouths and obnoxious attitudes pissed me off. People knew that too, so everyone I worked with was compliant and kept their mouths shut expect for when I let them speak.

It was a harsh environment, I'll admit, but the company was one of the best in the world so it paid off.

I brought my mac computer to life and glanced around the room. The front had sleek, oak double doors. There was a long conference table, a screen on the left wall and there was a projector on the ceiling for presentations. The wall facing the doors was made up of tall glass windows looking out over New York City, and my desk sat in front of that. The desk itself was made of custom material, the Mac computer monitor took up a good deal of space on the desk, there were a few files, sticky notes and some pens but the supplies were minimal. The right wall had artwork my decorator picked out. It was professional, controlled and very much organized to perfection.

I was happy this way, I always had been and I didn't require anything else in my life. It didn't matter that I lived alone or that I didn't have pictures of my family anywhere, what mattered was I had enough money to last one hundred life times and I had a company I built myself.

I worked until it was time for the first meeting of the day, my coworkers filed silently and quickly in and didn't say anything except for addressing me and then sitting straight down at the conference table. I got out my charts and prepared to start another perfect, controlled day.