My Powerful Boss’s Ex Tried To Humiliate Me — She Had No Idea Who She Was Messing With
Part 1
I crashed onto the plush leather chair without waiting for an invitation.
The man behind the mahogany desk stopped flipping through his thick files.
Greg stared at me with eyes so cold they could freeze the harbor.
I didn’t blink or look away.
I just crossed my legs and met his intimidating gaze head-on.
The enormous bodyguard standing by the oak door shifted his weight uneasily.
Brian cleared his throat nervously.
Nobody spoke to Greg like that.
He was the most feared businessman in the entire city.
His name alone made rival executives break into a cold sweat.
I was just a girl wearing ripped jeans and a faded polo shirt.
I dropped my battered canvas backpack onto the polished marble floor.
“So, here I am.”
Greg leaned back in his expensive chair.
His dark tailored suit probably cost more than I had made in the last five years.
“You’re hired based on a strong recommendation, but that doesn’t mean you automatically get the job.”
I pulled out my phone and started scrolling lazily through my messages.
“Cool.”
“What do I actually need to do to prove myself?”
“Put the phone away.”
His voice dropped to a deep register that made the air in the room feel suddenly heavy.
I looked up slowly.
I slipped the device back into my pocket without breaking eye contact for even a second.
“Better.”
Brian coughed loudly into his fist to cover up a laugh.
Greg tapped his expensive silver pen against the desk in a slow rhythm.
“The job pays very well, but it comes with extreme risks.”
“People will try to destroy you just to get to me.”
“They will offer you ridiculous sums of money to betray my trust.”
“They’ll threaten your family.”
“I don’t have any family to threaten.”
I leaned forward resting my elbows on my knees.
“And I’ve survived out on the streets for years.”
“People have tried much worse than killing me.”
“It never worked out for them.”
He slid a thick legal contract across the gleaming wood.
I picked up the document and scanned the dense pages.
The duties included managing his chaotic schedule and handling highly confidential information.
It also involved accompanying him to all high-stakes business meetings.
And, buried deep in clause four, posing as his loving fiancée to maintain public appearances.
I raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“So basically, I’m your work wife without any of the actual benefits.”
Greg almost smiled.
“You’ll have full medical coverage, luxury housing, and access to elite security.”
“But out in public, you need to be entirely convincing.”
“You have to act like I am the absolute love of your life.”
I tilted my head studying his stoic, unreadable expression.
“That’s the weird part for you, not the part where dangerous people might shoot at me.”
“Can you do it or not?”
I shrugged nonchalantly.
“I can act.”
“Street survival taught me to be whoever I need to be in any given moment.”
“When do I start?”
“Tonight.”
He stood up towering impressively over the desk.
“I have a crucial dinner meeting with potential business partners who don’t respect men who show up alone.”
“Brian will take you shopping for appropriate evening attire.”
I stood up and grabbed my heavy backpack.
“I don’t do heels and dresses.”
“Tonight you do.”
We stared at each other in complete, heavy silence.
It was a battle of stubborn wills, and neither of us was backing down.
I let out a loud, dramatic sigh.
“Fine.”
“But if I fall and break my neck, I am definitely suing you from the afterlife.”
Three hours later, I wanted to commit actual murder.
We were standing in an overly bright designer boutique that smelled intensely of expensive perfume and raw entitlement.
Brian had dragged me relentlessly through five different upscale stores.
I had rejected absolutely everything on the racks.
“This is actual torture.”
I held up a ridiculous red dress that looked exactly like a shiny candy wrapper.
Brian checked his heavy silver dive watch.
“The boss said you need to look the part.”
“I look the part of someone about to rob the cash register.”
Heather, Brian’s girlfriend, emerged from the back racks holding a sleek black dress.
“Try this one.”
“It’s elegant but has enough stretch so you can move quickly if things get messy.”
I took the hanger reluctantly and vanished into the mirrored fitting room.
When I stepped back out, even Brian looked completely impressed.
The dark fabric hugged my frame perfectly without making me feel uncomfortably exposed.
It felt like armor disguised as high fashion.
Heather held up a pair of thin, dangerous-looking stilettos.
“Shoes?”
“Absolutely not.”
I crossed my arms defensively over my chest.
“I will wear the expensive dress and play nice, but I am not breaking my ankles.”
“He can deal with my combat boots or he can just fire me.”
Before Brian could argue the point, the front door chimed brightly.
“Well, well, what do we have here?”
A woman strolled into the boutique looking like she personally owned the entire city block.
She wore a designer outfit that screamed desperate new money.
Her manicured eyes scanned me with obvious, unfiltered disdain.
“Can I help you?”
I didn’t move an inch from my spot.
“You must be new.”
She flashed a painfully fake, overly bright smile.
“I’m Brenda, Greg’s girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” Brian corrected quietly from the dark corner of the shop.
Brenda shot him a venomous glare before turning her attention back to me.
“Is that what he’s telling his employees now?”
“Sweetie, we had a romantic dinner just last week.”
“We’re just taking a little break right now.”
I looked her up and down slowly, taking in her tense posture.
“Cool.”
“I’m his personal assistant, not his unpaid therapist.”
“If you’re having serious relationship issues, you should probably take it up with him directly.”
Brenda’s fake smile vanished instantly.
“A personal assistant.”
She stepped much closer, aggressively invading my personal space.
“Is that what he’s calling his pathetic charity cases these days?”
“Let me give you some free advice, street rat.”
“Whatever pathetic game you think you’re playing, you are entirely out of your league.”
“Greg needs a woman of high class, not some piece of garbage he scraped out of the gutter.”
Her manicured hand swung forward in a sudden blur.
The slap echoed through the quiet boutique, and as my cheek burned, I realized she had made the biggest mistake of her privileged life.
