Twisted Lies

Camille tightened her scarf, the wool scratching against her neck as she stepped into the office. The usual buzz of ringing phones, clattering keyboards, and low murmurs of colleagues blended into a dull, incessant hum. But today, it all seemed too loud, too close, like the walls were closing in on her. Mondays were bad enough, but this Monday felt like it had it out for her.

The breakup still clung to her like the faint scent of his cologne lingering on her old hoodie. She'd tossed the hoodie in the trash this morning, but her mind wasn't so quick to let go. Jason had walked away from her life with the cold finality of a text-"I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore"-as though two years of late-night talks, movie marathons, and whispered promises had meant nothing. No explanation, no fight. Just silence.

A heavy sigh slipped from her lips as she approached her desk, her eyes instinctively seeking out Lisa. Of course, her best friend looked flawless-effortlessly radiant, her chestnut hair glossy and perfectly styled, not a strand out of place. Camille hated that about Lisa. How could someone be so put-together when her world felt like it was falling apart?

"Hey, Cam!" Lisa's voice was a little too bright, a little too chirpy for the emotional wasteland Camille was trudging through.

"Don't 'hey, Cam' me," Camille grumbled, tossing her bag onto the chair with more force than necessary. "Do you have any idea the hell I've been through this weekend?"

Lisa spun her chair around, crossing her long legs as she leaned forward. "Oh boy. Let me guess-Jason?"

"Who else?" Camille muttered, sinking into her chair. She rubbed her temples, willing the headache creeping up behind her eyes to retreat. "I called you a million times, by the way. Thanks for ignoring me."

Lisa's smile faltered, just for a moment, before she straightened up, her eyes wide with feigned concern. "I wasn't ignoring you! I was sick-barely functioning. I didn't want to drag you into my misery."

Camille snorted, the bitterness in her laugh sharp and unfamiliar. "I could've used some company in my misery. Jason dumped me, Lisa. Just like that. After two years!"

Lisa gasped, her hand flying to her chest in exaggerated shock. "What? No way! Why would he do that? He was so into you!"

Camille frowned, her instincts prickling at Lisa's tone-too casual, too fake. A small, unfamiliar pang of doubt twisted in her stomach. Could she really trust Lisa's words? "Obsessed enough to cheat on me, apparently," she said bitterly.

Lisa's glossy lips parted in surprise, but her eyes widened just a beat too late. "Cheat? Are you serious? With who?"

"I don't know, and honestly, I don't care anymore." Camille lied, her stomach knotting as she spoke. The truth was, she cared-deeply. She could picture him with someone else, his hands tangled in someone else's hair, whispering the same lies. But she wouldn't let Lisa see that vulnerability. "He can have her. Both of them deserve each other."

Lisa reached out, squeezing Camille's hand in a gesture that was meant to be comforting but felt like a cold weight on her skin. Camille tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. The moment Lisa's fingers brushed against her palm, a faint flicker of unease danced at the back of Camille's mind. Something felt off, but she couldn't place it. Not Lisa. She wouldn't.

Suddenly, the office door slammed open, its force reverberating through the room and causing Camille to jump. Her breath caught in her throat as Adrian Westbrook strode in, his presence as imposing as the man himself.

The air in the room seemed to change with his arrival-tighter, colder. His tailored suit hugged his broad shoulders like a second skin, the dark fabric a stark contrast against the sleek, modern design of the office. His icy blue eyes scanned the room with practiced ease, making every person in the room feel as though they were nothing more than ants beneath his gaze.

"Good morning, everyone," he said, his voice as sharp as the press of his polished shoes against the floor. The words might've been polite, but the tone suggested there was little about this morning-or his mood-that was anything but bad.

Camille tried to shrink into her chair, hoping to avoid drawing any attention. But luck, as usual, wasn't on her side.

"Miss Bennett," his voice sliced through the low hum of the office, his gaze locking on hers with an intensity that made her blood run cold. "In my office. Now."

Lisa's eyes widened, and she leaned closer to Camille, whispering in an almost conspiratorial tone, "What did you do?"

Camille grabbed her notepad, her hands trembling slightly. "Guess I'm about to find out."

Adrian's office was everything she'd expected-cold, sleek, and intimidating. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city below, but the room itself was minimalist to the point of being sterile. Every corner, every piece of furniture, seemed carefully curated to evoke power and control. There was nothing warm about the space, nothing inviting.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Westbrook?" Camille asked, her voice steady, though her insides were a different story. The man had the ability to make even the most confident person feel small, and Camille was no exception.

Adrian leaned against his desk, arms crossed over his broad chest, his gaze never leaving her. "Do you know why I fired my personal assistant on Friday?"

Camille blinked, caught off guard. "Uh...no, sir. I assumed it was performance-related?"

"It was," he said bluntly, as though explaining something simple. "She was incompetent."

She shifted uneasily, a chill running down her spine. "I see. And that's... a predicament?"

Adrian pushed off the desk and moved toward her with calculated steps, his presence filling the room like a dark cloud. "I need a replacement. Someone who knows my schedule, my preferences, how I operate. Someone who won't waste my time."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Sir, I don't think I'm qualified for that."

"You'll start today," he interrupted, his voice sharp. "Until I find someone permanent, you'll act as my personal assistant."

Camille's stomach twisted. "But sir, my current workload-"

"Will be reassigned," he cut her off, his tone dismissive as he made it clear that her concerns didn't matter. "I don't care what it takes, Miss Bennett. Make it work."

The words stung, but she didn't argue. There was no point. Arguing with Adrian Westbrook was like fighting a storm. It would never end in her favor.

"Understood, sir," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curved into a faint, almost predatory smile. "Good. You can start by clearing my schedule for this afternoon. I have a family matter to attend to, and I'll need you with me."

Her stomach dropped. "A family matter?"

He fixed her with a hard, unreadable look. "Don't ask questions. Just make it happen. You're dismissed."

Camille turned and walked out of his office, the weight of his command pressing down on her shoulders like an iron hand. As she returned to her desk, Lisa was waiting with a knowing smile, her curiosity piqued.

"Spill," Lisa demanded, not even bothering to hide her eager anticipation.

Camille sighed, sinking back into her chair as the reality of her new role began to settle in. "He made me his personal assistant."

Lisa's jaw dropped, her eyes sparkling with disbelief. "Are you serious? Do you know how many people would kill for that opportunity?"

"Trust me," Camille muttered, rubbing her temples again as the migraine she'd been fighting all day began to rear its head. "It's not as glamorous as it sounds."

Lisa smirked, leaning closer, her voice dripping with a teasing edge. "I don't know... I think you might end up enjoying it more than you think."

Camille frowned, her instincts flaring again. The unease she'd felt earlier returned with a vengeance. Something about Lisa's tone... it wasn't right.

For the second time today, a chill ran down Camille's spine.