So, I left. I packed my bags, walked out of his marble palace, and into a shoebox apartment with Cassie, my best friend and sometimes my annoying second conscience.
It's not luxury-but at least it's freedom.
And now? Now I'm broke. Like, three-in-one-noodles-for-breakfast-lunch-and-dinner broke. My savings are dead, my gigs have dried up, and the last thing I want is to go crawling back to Daddy Dearest.
So yeah... I need this job interview.
"Ariella!" Cassie's voice rang through the tiny kitchen. "You're still going for the interview, right?"
I looked up from the half-burnt toast I was pretending to enjoy. "Yeah. Ten a.m., remember?
I'm not about to lose my only lifeline."
Cassie walked in wearing her usual sunny smile and a skirt so short HR would cry. "Good. And you better thank me again-I practically sold my soul to get you this interview at Levin Corps."
I pulled her into a hug. "I love you."
"I know. Now slay, bitch."
By 10:05 a.m., I was standing in the lobby of Levin Corps, staring up at the glass walls like a lost tourist. Everything screamed money-expensive, arrogant money.
And then I realized something terrifying.
This place... was bigger than my father's company.
I forced my legs to move toward the receptionist, ignoring the tightness in my chest. I was not going to let nerves ruin this for me.
"Good morning. I'm Ariella Gates. I have an interview scheduled for ten."
The receptionist barely looked up from her screen. "You're cutting it close. Have a seat, I'll inform the CEO."
CEO? Wait.
I thought I was interviewing with HR?
Ten minutes later, I found myself standing in front of a massive door that screamed power. I knocked once and heard "come in" so I stepped inside.
And froze.
A man stepped out of the shadows like he was in some goddamn movie. Tall, sleek, and dressed like he owned not just this building, but the city skyline behind him, I couldn't help but gape at him.
He didn't smile. He didn't blink. He makes me want to cower in fear.
"Miss Gates," he said coolly, his eyes piercing through me.. "You're late."
I swallowed hard. "Apologies, sir. There was traffic."
He walked past me, the scent of his cologne hitting me like a sinful whisper. Expensive and addictive.
"Sit."
I sat.
He studied me like I was a problem he didn't ask for. "Do you have a degree in Economics?"
"Yes, sir," I said, keeping my voice steady. "And experience in financial analysis and corporate management."
He leaned back in his chair, twirling a silver pen between his fingers. "You're not here for any of that."
Wait-what?
"I'm not looking for another analyst," he continued. "I need a personal assistant. Someone who keeps my schedule, gets my coffee, and knows when to speak and when to shut up."
Ouch.
"I've never worked as a PA, sir," I said, lifting my chin, trying to make myself sound more confident. "But I can adapt. Fast."
He smirked. "Well, We'll see. Be here tomorrow at 8 a.m. Not 8:01. I don't tolerate laziness."
And just like that, the interview was over.
When I got home, Cassie was already waiting with two cups of cheap wine and her phone ready to record my reaction.
"Well?" she grinned. "Spill!"
"I got the job," I said, collapsing onto the couch. "Starting tomorrow."
Cassie screamed like I'd told her BTS was coming over. "YES! Wait-what's the pay?"
"Three thousand dollars. Weekly."
She dropped her wine. "Girl. You're rich. Also, is he hot?"
I rolled my eyes. "He's a jackass."
"A hot jackass?"
"...Maybe."
Cassie winked. "We need to go shopping. If you're going to work for a billionaire, you better look like you belong in his world."
And as I lay in bed that night, I couldn't stop thinking about his voice... his scent... his stupid, perfect face.