Jonathan: The Heavenly Fortune Teller in the City

Ch 09

8:00 a.m.

The lobby of Dayantara Tower was livelier than usual. Jonathan stood upright at the security post, his security uniform fitting neatly against his body, giving off both authority and a charm that was difficult to ignore. Every movement of his hands as he checked identification cards was calm yet firm, as though he had long been accustomed to military discipline.

Several female employees passing by could not hide their admiration. Some deliberately slowed their pace, while others blushed shyly whenever their eyes met Jonathan's. One administrative staff member even pretended to forget her ID card just so she could stand in front of him a little longer.

Jonathan, however, remained completely professional. His smile was nothing more than polite, and his eyes stayed focused on enforcing company regulations. To him, duty was duty. No matter how many flirtatious glances or charming smiles came his way, he firmly held onto one principle: the company's security and discipline could never be compromised.

Standing guard with him was an overweight security guard named Bernad, who happened to be Captain Alex's childhood friend. He had worked for the company for four years. After witnessing Jonathan effortlessly overpower even their captain, a former special forces soldier, Bernad admired him so much that he insisted on becoming his partner.

But after actually standing guard beside Jonathan, Bernad felt like nothing more than background scenery. Every female employee's attention was fixed on Jonathan, leaving him feeling a little heartbroken.

The women walking past barely glanced at him. Even the male employees who usually joked around with him now spent more time chatting with Jonathan. One secretary who used to offer him donuts every morning instead stopped in front of Jonathan and shyly said, "If you'd like, Jonathan, I'll bring you homemade bread tomorrow."

Bernad swallowed hard. He forced a smile and waved, but the woman merely gave him a brief nod before hurrying inside, her face flushed red.

"Damn it," Bernad grumbled inwardly. "We've only been on duty together for one day, and I already feel like a shadow."

When Anastasya, the HR manager, walked by, Jonathan instinctively reached out to check the ID card hanging from her chest. But the moment he remembered yesterday's embarrassing incident, when she accused him of staring at her inappropriately, he quickly looked away toward the desk and pretended to busy himself arranging some documents.

Unfortunately, Anastasya had already caught the movement of his eyes. She stopped abruptly and shot him a sharp glare.

"You shameless pervert!" she shouted, causing several nearby employees to turn their heads. "How dare you stare where you shouldn't?!"

Jonathan froze and hurriedly raised both hands. "That's not it, ma'am. I was only..." His voice weakened. "...I was just checking your ID. Besides, it isn't the first time I've seen it."

The words slipped out before he could stop himself.

The entire lobby fell silent.

Anastasya's face instantly turned crimson with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

"What do you mean by that?! You... How dare you say something like that to me?" Her right hand shot into the air, ready to slap him.

Jonathan lowered his head slightly, not out of fear, but to keep the situation under control.

"If you really want to slap me, go ahead," he said calmly. "But please do it after working hours. I don't want to be accused of disrupting the office over a misunderstanding."

Her hand froze midair.

Anastasya stood there speechless, her lips parted but unable to utter a word. Only then did she realize that if she slapped him now, the entire office would witness it.

Jonathan glanced at her briefly.

"I know you're the HR manager. So it's only natural that I've looked at your ID card many times before. That was part of my job. Nothing more."

Those words made Anastasya's ears burn.

She lowered her hand abruptly before stepping closer until her face was level with Jonathan's. In a sharp whisper, she said, "If you embarrass me in front of everyone one more time, I guarantee you won't last a week in this company."

Then she turned and strode away, the sharp clicks of her high heels echoing across the floor.

Bernad, the biggest gossip on the entire floor, approached with exaggerated tiptoeing, as though he were walking straight into the hottest scandal of the day. He lightly patted Jonathan's shoulder while grinning.

"Hey, bro. What's really going on between you and Ms. Anas?" he asked with obvious curiosity.

Jonathan let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair.

"Nothing. It was just a misunderstanding yesterday."

Bernad raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of misunderstanding?"

With obvious reluctance, Jonathan finally explained, "Yesterday I walked into her office without knocking. She just happened to be changing clothes."

Bernad's eyes widened instantly, his face lighting up with excitement. He leaned in closer and whispered enthusiastically, "So... how big were they?"

Jonathan immediately turned and shot him a fierce glare, nearly choking on his own breath.

"Damn it! Stop talking nonsense!" he hissed as he smacked Bernad on the head.

Bernad immediately burst into quiet laughter, covering his mouth to avoid attracting attention.

"Hahaha. Bro, I was just asking. It's only natural to be curious."

Not long afterward, light footsteps approached.

Felinia, Mella's assistant, walked by while glancing at Jonathan.

"Hey, little bastard," she greeted teasingly. "I thought yesterday was all talk, but you actually came to work after all."

She gave Jonathan's shoulder a firm pat that made him sway slightly.

"Good. I'm putting a little hope in you, so don't embarrass me."

With that, Felinia walked away.

Jonathan merely forced a stiff smile, while inwardly he snorted.

What hope? I've only been working for one day, and everyone's already making fun of me.

Before he could respond, the atmosphere in the lobby suddenly fell silent.

Every head automatically turned toward the entrance.

President Director Mella walked in gracefully.

She was one of the most beautiful women in the company, admired not only by men but by countless women who wished they possessed her beauty and figure.

Mella wore an elegant navy-blue business suit, her long hair neatly arranged, and her composed expression naturally commanded everyone's respect.

However, one thing immediately caught Jonathan's attention.

There was no ID card hanging from her chest.

Without thinking, Jonathan stepped forward and stretched out an arm, blocking her path.

"Excuse me, ma'am. May I see your ID card, please?"

Mella stopped walking and looked at Jonathan with an icy gaze. One eyebrow rose slightly.

"Did you just stop me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jonathan replied seriously. "The company's regulations are very clear. Everyone must wear an ID card. Without one, no one is allowed to enter freely."

Several employees behind them nearly fainted after hearing those words.

Mella stared at Jonathan coldly before taking a slow breath.

"I left my ID card on my office desk yesterday. I forgot to bring it downstairs."

Her voice remained calm, but the commanding aura surrounding her instinctively made everyone lower their heads.

Jonathan, however, stood his ground with his arm still stretched across her path.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Rules are rules. Every employee is required to wear an ID card. Without one, I can't allow anyone to pass."

The entire lobby seemed to freeze in terror.

Bernad, whose heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest, hurried over. He frantically signaled Jonathan with his eyes and whispered into his ear.

"Hey, bro! That's the President Director! If she gets angry, you're finished! Move aside, quickly!"

His words made several nearby employees feel like screaming in frustration.

Is this guy stupid... or unbelievably brave?

Mella restrained herself before finally raising her chin, her expression turning as cold as ice.

"You certainly have guts, new employee, stopping your own President Director."

Bernad had already gone pale after hearing Mella's words.

At last, Mella gracefully took out her phone, though every movement carried unmistakable pressure.

"Felinia," she said flatly. "Come to my office immediately. Bring my ID card downstairs. It seems someone values company regulations more than my position."