CHAPTER 2

Charisse

Christ, another lunatic. 

I was about to tell him to fuck off when a business card pushed into my view. I took the card and he was about to introduce himself when his phone buzzed urgently. 

He needed to take the call, his face said, but he also needed to speak to me. 

I invited him to take the call and waved the business card to let him know that I’ll read it until he’s done. 

He understood what I meant and smiled appreciatively before moving out of earshot. 

It was then I glanced down at the card. 

My heart nearly stopped. 

DORIAN VELLUM

CEO, Crimson Crest Empire

I jolted up like I was electrocuted and stared at that tall figure in black who stood like he was commanding the nation’s army. 

It was then I noticed his sharp and immaculate grooming. That business suit was way more exquisite than Val’s most expensive Hugh-Bosse suit. 

He, a creep? 

I’m the fucking lunatic!

And to think that I actually ignored his question and he apologised about that!

I must be crazy!

Val is right—the world is not made for Omegas like me!

“Get it done,” he ordered in a deadly tone and cut the call. He took a moment before turning back. 

The second our eyes met, he smiled cordially. “My apologies.” He strode over to the counter, his eyes fixed on me. “What I wanted to say before I was rudely interrupted.” 

“Y-yes?” I backed away slightly. 

And he paused. 

He glanced at the business card I was holding and chuckled wryly. 

“Shouldn’t have given you that,” he muttered under his breath. 

“C-can I help you, Mr. Vellum?” I forced a smile. 

“Yes, you can.” He leaned closer. “I’d like you to talk to me the way you did before you got the card. Think you can do that?” 

I angled my nose suspiciously. “Are you sure? Because if your clan comes after me, I’ll be dead before they find me.” 

He blinked in surprise then smiled with the assurance of the clan’s leader. “They won’t.” 

“I need your word for it.” 

“You got it.” 

“Okay.” I inhaled deeply and said, “So, I’m listening.” 

“Excellent.” His smile turned warm when he said, “I need you to be my secretary.” 

I blinked furiously. “I’m sorry—what?” 

He stepped closer, his face stern again. “I’m in need of a secretary. A personal assistant. And I’d like to hire you.” 

“B-but, why?” I swallowed. “I mean, I’m just a convenience store part-timer! What do I know about being a secretary to the CEO of a global powerhouse that has a strong influence in our country’s economics and politics?!” 

Now, he looked more convinced. “You definitely are the one for the job,”  

“And you’re crazy,” I snapped and shoved the business card back to him. 

He grabbed my hand and yanked me forward to look him in the eye. “I need someone who doesn’t talk to me like I’m going to kill them with a single look—.” 

I was aghast. “C-can you?” 

He laughed and let go of me. “Of course, not. I’m an Alpha, not the Dark Lord, Jesus….”

And I found myself laughing along. “That does sound silly. But I’m sure there are plenty out there who’d rather die than to lick your boots.”  

“I don’t hire my enemies,” he said jokingly. “Trust me, you’re the best for the job.” 

I greeted another customer who’d just stormed in and sighed at him. “Trust me, I’m not.”

His gaze darkened. He was getting annoyed.  

“You’re meticulous with numbers,” he began, “clear-headed in negotiations, perceptive and creative in problem-solving, and you guard your priorities like an impenetrable firewall—need I go on?” 

I crossed my arms. “That’s everyone you’re describing.” 

He chuckled dryly from experience. “Believe me, I know a rare gem when I see one. And you are a rare gem, Charisse.”

He paused to let his words sink in, then added, “I need someone to keep the noise out.” 

“Someone who’s loyal to you, honest in their opinions, and quick to point out flaws for you to fix them?” 

He snapped his fingers in delight. “Exactly. And—.” 

“I’m not the one.” I grinned politely and nudged him aside.

The customer from earlier cast a mean glare at the black roadblock before stepping forward to make her purchase. 

“What’s your dream?” He suddenly asked. 

And I knew what he was trying. 

Honestly, I’m flattered by his words and tempted by his offer. 

Crimson Crest was my dream. In my senior year, I had wanted to apply for an internship with Crimson Crest, hoping to be employed full time into their marketing team. 

But Val, who was into the second year of his job at the bank, advised against it, for my protection. 

The business world is dominated by the Alphas, and Betas like him could barely survive, much less a talentless Omega like me. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of useless me getting bullied and devoured by those vicious Alphas and would rather die than to let that happen, so I gave up the pursuit of my dream job and worked part-time ever since. 

“That’s none of your business.” I smiled brightly as though he was a camera then thanked the customer who left in a grouchy mood.

Before I suggested that he should get a move on too, the Alpha CEO set his business card down on the counter, grabbed his bottle of soda water and left a promise with me.  

“No one is born without talent, Charisse,” he said, “I’m not giving you up.” 

*****

I carried the pot of beef brisket out the kitchen, brimming with excitement. 

“I’ve made your favourite, just the way you like it, Val.” 

I laid down the pot in front of him on the dining table and removed the lid for the delicious aroma to cheer him up before adding, “I’m really sorry about what I said last night—.” 

“Who’s that guy you were talking to for almost an hour?” he asked.

Shit. 

My fingers trembled. “W-who?” I stuttered, my mind completely blank. 

He stopped folding up his sleeves and slowly looked up at me. 

“Out with it, Charisse. I called Chad and he told me all about it.” 

I swallowed. “H-he’s just a creepy lunatic,” I muttered, hoping to get some sympathy and mellow that anger rising in him.

“Strip,” he snarled, “and get on the table.”