CHAPTER 2: FIRST DAY

*CAMILLE POV*

Walking from Alder Tower to the subway station felt like running a marathon in high heels. My legs were trembling, and my toes were completely numb inside these cheap heels.

I took the crowded train back home. I was living in a cramped two-bedroom apartment above a noisy laundry shop.

When I unlocked the front door, the smell of burnt toast hit my nose immediately.

"Cammy?" Mia’s called out from the kitchen.

A second later, her head popped around the corner. She was holding a wooden spatula in one hand, her phone pressed between her ear and shoulder, wearing an oversized yellow sweater that looked like it had been through ten different thrift stores.

She looked at my face and frowned. "Tell me you didn't throw up on his shoes.”

"I didn't throw up," I said, leaning against the door frame to kick off the black heels. The relief was so fast I almost let out a moan. "And I didn't get kicked out either."

Mia gasped, dropping her phone onto the counter and running over. “Wait, are you serious?"

I rolled my eyes, "I start Monday," I said, dropping my bag on the floor. "Seven in the morning."

"Oh my god!" She screamed, running across the small living room, before coming back and throwing her arms around my neck. "You actually did it! You got the job!"

She squeezed me so hard, I felt my ribs crack. I couldn't help but laugh a little, wrapping my arms around her back.

"Okay, okay, let me breathe," I laughed, pulling back. "I can feel my feet bleed, Mia."

"Who cares about your feet, you beat the ice dragon!" Mia dragged me over to our worn-out gray couch and shoved me down. "Tell me everything. Right now. Did he yell at you? Did he do that scary glare thing people talk about on T*****r?"

"He didn't yell," I said, rubbing my sore heels. "It was worse. He just sits there, looking at you like he already knows every bad thing you've ever done in your life."

"Is he really that scary?"

"He's worse than the news says," I muttered. "He has these gray eyes that don't even look real. I swear, Mia, when I told him why I wanted the job, he stared at me for ten seconds without blinking. I thought I was going to throw up my coffee right on his desk."

Mia leaned in closer, folding her legs on the sofa. "But he hired you?"

"He wrote my start date on my paper and told me if I'm one minute late on Monday, he'll fire me before I even hit my desk."

"What an asshole," she said, shaking her head.

"Oh, but wait," I grinned, holding up a finger. "You haven't even heard the best part. When he brought up the pay, I almost choked.”

Mia’s eyebrows shot up. "What did he offer? Tell me?"

I laughed lightly at her reaction, she was such a drama queen who likes gossip.

"20,000 dollars. Monthly." I spelled out the ‘monthly’ getting a gasp from her.

She stared at me with her mouth slightly opened as the wooden spatula slipped from her hand, falling on the rug. "Twenty thousand!? That's huge."

"I know!" I squeaked, grabbing a throw pillow and burying my face into it. "If added together for a year, that's more money than my dad made."

"Did you confirm if he pays his previous assistant the same amount, because earning twenty thousand monthly, that's really crazy, for just being an assistant."

I frowned at her. “Who cares about what the previous assistants earned, girl I saw the look on his face, so I'm sure he was really impressed by my resume."

"That means Damian did a really good job then. I will fake a degree and apply tomorrow!”

“Trust me, you don't want to," I chuckled.

“There's a catch.” I let out a dramatic sigh. “He looked me dead in the eye and said the money isn't generous. It's the price for my full time job.” I rolled my eyes, mimicking his voice. “So basically, I belong to Alder Global once I get hired. He calls, I answer. He travels, I follow. The man basically bought my soul for twenty thousand dollars." I threw my head back with a fake heave.”

Mia cracking up. “Girl, it's obvious you're being exploited, but at least you're financially comfortable now.”

I glared at her, but I couldn't even hide my grin.

"I knew I said I didn't go there for the money," I muttered, leaning my head against the back on the couch. "But damn... my soul definitely sweated for a second.”

We bursted into laughter.

Her face softened, the excited smile slowly fading. She reached over and grabbed my hands. "Cam... Are you sure you want to do this?"

"We already talked about this, Mia."

"I know, but I'm serious," she said, rubbing my knuckles. "You need to be careful, my brother works in corporate law, remember?”

I nodded intently.

"Currently Silvan has a serious pending case, he ruined his own cousins just to get full control of Alder Global. He doesn't have a heart, he has an expensive calculator in his chest.” Mia said.

I looked at her in terror. Was he that bad?

As though reading my thoughts, she nodded, “yes he is, so just be watchful."

I glanced at the picture of Dad on the small table. “I just need his encrypted vault key. Once I get the proof that clears my dad's name, I’m out.”

She heaved a sigh, then smiled weakly. "I trust you, I also want justice for Mr.Benered."

“But don't poke around his office when he's present okay”

I nodded like a little kid.

"Don't act suspicious too.” She added, sounding like a strict mom.

“Yes ma” I nodded, trying to hold my laughter.

“If he catches you poking around his office or looking for files, he won't just fire you. He'll put you in jail, or worse. You're using a fake resume, and If Silvan Alder finds out who you really are—’’

“Yes mom.” I responded, making her laugh.

"You're totally crazy, you know that?"

"I know."

"And your shoes smell terrible."

I snorted, throwing a pillow at her. "They were ten dollars. Give me a break."

"Of course ten dollars is very cheap for a new pair of shoes, that's why they are hurting your feet because they lack good support."

I rolled my eyes, feigning to feel hurt.

"Come on," Mia said, sliding off the couch and grabbing my arm to pull me up. "Let's go throw those thrash shoes away and eat my delicious burnt toast. You have two days to learn how to survive the devil.”

*************

Monday morning arrived earlier than I expected, even though I’d spent the whole weekend anxious praying for it to be Monday. But now here I am, ughhh!

At 6:30 AM, I was already at work. I needed to make a good impression especially if I wanted to gain his trust and attention.

When I stepped off the elevator on the 82nd, the entire executive floor was a bit quiet , with only a few employees who had resumed work.

Initially, I had expected to be the first one here, because I didn't want to run into his scary security chief yet.

I guess I was wrong. When I reached Silvan's office, he was already inside, standing near the giant window, looking over the city. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket, his crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick, muscular forearms covered in dark hair.

Without even turning around, his deep voice echoed through the silence.

“If you're going to spy on me, Miss Camille, at least bring me a fresh coffee.”

I was taken aback. How the hell did he hear me? The carpet is literally three inches thick!

I cleared my throat, pushed the door open, and walked in. “Good morning, Mr. Alder. You're early.”

He turned around. The cold morning light hitting his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the dark circles under his gray eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept a single minute.

“What are you staring at?"

“I wasn't staring, Sir." I lied, scolding myself inwardly.

He looked at his gold wrist watch, “you're twelve minutes early."

“It should be earlier than that." I murmured.

“Were you saying something?"

“No sir." I gave a fake smile. “Punctuality is a virtue, sir.”

“Not when it interrupts my thoughts," he said, walking back to his desk. ‘‘Your desk is right outside. You'll see three black binders on it. Agenda items, financial reports, and board member profiles for the upcoming Alder Global summit. I need cross-referenced, and summarized on my desk by 8:00 AM.”

I almost shouted. “That's over five hundred pages of data, Mr. Alder! That will take at least three hours.”

He relaxed on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. His gray eyes locked onto mine, with a mocking, challenging smirk.

‘‘Then stop standing in my doorway complaining and get to work,” he retorted. “Unless, you realize you aren't built for this after all?”

The sarcastic edge in his voice set a sudden fire in my chest. He was testing me, he just wanted me to fail so he could watch me cry and fire me before lunch.

“I'll have it ready, sir,” I said, through gritted teeth, giving him my fake polite smile

I turned around and walked out of his office.

Just as I was seated down, I heard the sharp clack-clack-clack of high heels coming through the hall.

A woman probably in her late thirties was strutting toward my desk, holding a stack of leather folders against her chest. She was wearing a beige designer blazer, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun that looked painful, and her dark red lipstick which stood out.

This was Brenda, the senior coordinator. I’d seen her profile in the onboarding files Damian whipped up for me. She’d been here eight years and basically was in charge of the floor until Silvan personally brought in an assistant seat right outside his door.

She stopped at my desk, giving me a sweeping look, like I was something gross on the bottom of her shoe.

“So…," she started, her voice dripping with this fake sweetness. "You're the new girl.”

“Camille," I corrected, putting on a smile and standing up. "Good morning."

Brenda didn't smile back. She just let out a chuckle setting her heavy folders on my desk loudly.

"Twenty-three, right?" She asked, tilting her head. "I saw your file when HR processed your badge, everyone on the floor is surprised Mr. Alder didn't laugh you out of his office. He usually doesn't hire anyone without ten years of experience in London or Zurich. And you're very young.”

I tried to sound polite. "Mr. Alder felt my qualifications were sufficient."

Her stare on me was so malicious. "Did he?" She leaned in, her voice turning mean. "Or were you just lucky because he needed someone desperate enough to handle the summit work on short notice?”

Now her voice sounded serious, more like a warning “Listen to me carefully, little girl. This isn't some college internship. If you mess up his schedule, make his tea wrong, or try any funny act on him, you won't just get fired. I will make sure you never get a job in this city again.”

Seriously?! I wanted to roll my eyes and laugh. Is this a soap opera?

If only you knew why I'm really here, I thought, clenching my fists.

"I'll keep that in mind, Brenda," I said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get these files ready."

Brenda stared at me for long, clearly annoyed that I hadn't burst into tears like the last girl. She let out a sharp humph, carried her folders and marched off, her high heels clicking aggressively against the floor.

I took a deep breath and sat back down, pulling up Silvan's schedule on my computer monitor. My phone buzzed on the desk.

Text from Mia: Did you survive the morning or should I start planning your funeral?

I looked back toward the heavy glass door of Silvan’s office, he was typing absorbably.

I typed back: Survived. His senior coordinator wants to kill me, and the devil expects 500 pages analyzed by 8:00am.”

Mia replied, sending a laughing emoji.

I laughed quietly before setting my phone down and getting back at work.