Chapter three

Sara’s POV

The next day, I arrived at the office eager to resume my duties as an accountant, just as Zack had instructed the previous day. As I approached the front desk, I greeted the receptionist with a friendly smile.

"Good morning, Jane," I said cheerfully. "I'm here to see Mr. Samuels."

Jane, the receptionist, returned my smile warmly. "Good morning, Sara," she replied. "Mr. Samuels is expecting you. You can go right in."

Grateful for her pleasant demeanor, I nodded appreciatively before making my way to Zack's office, steeling myself for whatever awaited me inside.

As I entered the office, Zack looked up from his desk, his expression cold and indifferent. "Ms. Miles," he greeted, his voice dripping with disdain. "I trust you're here to discuss your new role."

I bristled at his condescending tone but forced myself to remain composed. "Yes, Mr. Samuels," I replied evenly, refusing to let his hostility faze me.

Zack leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. "I've decided that your services as an accountant are no longer required," he stated bluntly.

My chest tightened and I was at the verge of crying. Before I could reply, he continued.

"However, I have graciously decided to offer you a new position."

My jaw clenched in frustration as I fought to keep my emotions in check. "And what position would that be, sir?" I asked, my tone laced with thinly veiled sarcasm.

Zack's lips curled into a smug smile. "You will now serve as my second personal assistant," he announced, his tone laced with malice. "You'll be assisting me with various tasks and making yourself useful to me."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his arrogance. "Understood," I replied through gritted teeth, my fists trembling with suppressed anger.

Zack smirked triumphantly, clearly relishing my discomfort. "Good," he said dismissively. "You can start by fetching me a coffee. And make it quick."

I bit back a retort, forcing myself to nod obediently before turning on my heel and storming out of his office. As I made my way to the break room, a surge of indignation washed over me. How dare Zack treat me like his personal servant?

But as I returned to my desk with Zack's coffee in hand, I vowed to bide my time. I may have been demoted, but I refused to let Zack's cruelty defeat me. I would prove to him that I was more than just his lackey. And when the time come, I will rise above his petty games and show him what I am truly capable of.

As the week progressed, Zack's demands became increasingly unreasonable. Day after day, he would order me to fetch his coffee, print out pointless documents, and run mindless errands, all while treating me with contempt and disdain. Each task felt like another blow to my dignity, but I refused to let Zack break me.

On the last day of the week, as Zack once again demanded that I fetch his coffee for the umpteenth time, something inside me snapped. I had reached my breaking point, and I refused to tolerate his mistreatment any longer.

"Zack," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed anger. "I'm not your personal servant. I'm here to work as your assistant, not to cater to your every need.”

Zack's eyes narrowed as he regarded me with thinly veiled contempt. "Excuse me?" he replied, his tone dripping with venom. "I don't recall asking for your opinion. Now, go and fetch my coffee like I asked and it’s Mr. Samuels to you.”

I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down. "No, Mr. Samuels," I said firmly. "I won't do it. I won't be treated like a slave while you sit back and enjoy yourself. If you need a personal assistant, then treat me with the respect I deserve."

Zack's expression darkened, his jaw clenched in frustration. "You have some nerve, Ms. Miles," he spat, his tone laced with anger. "You think you can defy me and get away with it?"

I met his gaze head-on, my resolve unwavering. "I'm not defying you, Mr. Samuels," I replied calmly. "I'm standing up for myself. If you want me to be your assistant, then treat me like one. Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to find employment elsewhere."

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air as Zack regarded me with a mixture of fury and begrudging admiration. Then, to my surprise, he let out a resigned sigh, his features softening slightly.

"Fine," he muttered grudgingly. "If that's how you want it, then so be it. But don't expect any special treatment from now on."

I nodded, relieved that he had finally relented. "Thank you, Mr. Samuels," I said, a sense of satisfaction washing over me. "I appreciate it."

Zack's lips curved into a sardonic smile. "Don't thank me yet," he replied cryptically. "There's still much for you to learn about being my assistant. Accompany me to a party tomorrow at my grandfather's estate, and I'll show you how things work."

I arched an eyebrow, curious despite myself. "A party?" I echoed, unsure of what to expect.

Zack nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yes, a party," he confirmed. "Consider it a crash course in the art of being my personal assistant. Be ready tomorrow evening. It's going to be a long night."

As Zack dropped the bomb about the upcoming party, his words cut through me like barbed wire. "My driver will pick you up tomorrow evening, sharp at 7. Don't keep him waiting," he snapped. I forced a tight-lipped nod, refusing to let him see how much his abrasive tone rattled me. "Yes, I'll be ready," I managed to choke out, my voice strained with frustration. Turning away, I resisted the urge to hurl a retort at him and instead focused on maintaining my composure as I exited his office. The weight of his callousness settled heavy on my shoulders, but I refused to let it crush my spirit.

The next day dawned with a heaviness that matched the exhaustion in my bones. I awoke to the intrusive glare of sunlight streaming through my window, my body protesting every movement as I dragged myself out of bed. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I stumbled into the kitchen, the scent of stale coffee lingering in the air. With a sigh, I resigned myself to the reality of another grueling day ahead. As I mechanically went through the motions of preparing a meager breakfast, the events of the past week weighed heavily on my mind.

The relentless demands of my new role as Zack’s personal assistant had left me drained and disheartened, my optimism slowly eroded by his constant belittlement and disdain. But amidst the exhaustion and frustration, a spark of defiance flickered to life within me. I refused to be broken by Zack’s callousness, determined to prove my worth in the face of his relentless hostility.

With renewed resolve, I fortified myself with a hastily prepared meal before setting out to face whatever challenges the day held in store.

“Sara, you can do this, how bad can it get?” I asked myself