Chapter 2

"What do we have here, Simon?" I asked as I picked up the first file on the stack.

And of course, fate just had to play its little joke on me. The first applicant in line was the same woman I’d run into in the elevator earlier.

“Celeste? Celeste Koch…?” I muttered under my breath, annoyed.

“She’s the daughter of Eduardo Koch. Hiring her would be the smartest move,” Simon said.

Simon Peterson. The man who practically raised me in this business after my father passed. The only person whose advice I actually listened to. But right now, what he was suggesting clashed with everything I stood for.

“I’m not handing out jobs just because someone’s daddy owns a multinational company,” I shot back. “This is based on merit. Period.”

“Cedric, Eduardo called this morning asking us to give his daughter some leeway. Ignoring him could make us look bad,” Simon argued, sitting across from me.

I arched my brow. “He called?” Nothing pissed me off more than people who leaned on their parents’ power instead of carving their own path.

“Yes,” Simon said. “I took the call myself.”

I clenched my jaw. Fine. If Eduardo thought his little girl could just waltz into my company, I’d make sure she learned quickly that life didn’t work that way. “Let’s see what she’s got,” I muttered.

Simon called her in. I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed.

Hours later, after dragging myself through candidate after candidate, only three remained, and not one had impressed me. Everyone knew I was a perfectionist. I didn’t like spelling out every damn detail. I wanted an assistant who could anticipate, who could move with me seamlessly.

I grabbed Celeste’s file. For someone who needed her father to make a call, she actually had an impressive résumé. The Koch family wasn’t new to me. I dealt mostly with Eduardo, but I’d never seen his daughter in person until today.

I was still skimming through her credentials when the door opened, followed by a loud curse.

“Shit…”

I looked up. There she was. Celeste Koch. And she froze like she’d just seen a ghost.

“Nice to meet you again, Ms. Koch,” I said, my voice cold and sharp enough to slice through the room.

Her face drained of color, sweat breaking out across her forehead. She finally forced herself to the desk and sat across from me, looking like she’d rather crawl into hell than sit in that chair.

“G-good morning, everyone,” she whispered.

“So, Ms. Koch, give me one good reason why I should hire you,” I said, leaning back, studying her.

She put on a mask of confidence, but I’d been in this game too long. I saw right through it.

“I’m ambitious, hardworking, competitive and—”

“What else?” I cut in.

“I have an excellent academic record—”

“So do the rest of the candidates,” I shot back, sharper this time.

“I’m quick, decisive, and—”

“Tell me something you didn’t memorize off wikiHow.” I shook my head, irritation bubbling.

“I… um…”

“Quickly, Ms. Koch. I don’t have all day.”

She drew in a shaky breath, realizing I wasn’t going to let her off easy.

“I don’t know what to tell you… But I do know that I’m the best person for this job. I won’t let you down. You’d be lucky to—”

“Lucky?” I arched a brow, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “You think we’d be lucky to have you?”

She nodded nervously, like some soaked puppy.

“I think—”

“You’ve got the nerve to call me Lucifer, Devil, Monster,” I snapped, my voice rising. “You’ve got the nerve to get Daddy to call in a favor? You’re a spoiled, insubordinate brat. And you think we’d be lucky to have you?”

She bit her lip hard, swallowing. “I… I…”

“Get out!” I barked.

“Cedric, calm down,” Simon whispered in my ear.

“I said get out! Drag her out if you have to, Simon!”

She scrambled up and started for the door. But instead of leaving, she spun around and marched right back in front of me.

“I’m not leaving. What I did in the elevator was wrong, but I had no idea my father made that call. That wasn’t on me. I deserve a fair shot at this interview just like everyone else, Mr. Bettencourt.” Her words came out in one breath, her eyes locked on mine, unflinching.

The room went dead silent. Against my better judgment, I broke it.

“Fine. Sit.”

Her green eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time in years, something in me stuttered. Not that I’d admit it.

“I’m ready,” she said firmly.

I ignored her résumé and asked, “Any work experience?”

“I did two internships, four months each, with local firms,” she answered with confidence.

Question after question, I tried to trip her up, humiliate her, push her off balance. But she stood her ground, never once slipping. That wasn’t easy with me. I was known for making people sweat bullets.

When I finally dismissed her, she thanked me for the chance and even had the guts to hold out her hand. I just glared at it until she pulled back and walked out.

Simon smirked. “You have to admit, the kid’s got guts.”

“A little too much for her own good,” I muttered.

By the time interviews wrapped, it was nearly ten at night. I still had piles of work to handle, not to mention the impossible task of finding an assistant who wouldn’t run for the hills.

“Which one’s it gonna be?” Simon spread the files across my desk.

I groaned. “This batch redefined disappointment.”

“What about the Yale graduate?” he asked.

“She couldn’t even pronounce my name right.”

“The redhead?”

“Simon, I don’t need a blushing mess trailing after me.”

Another file hit the trash.

“This one?”

“Do I look like I have time to babysit an inferiority complex?” I tossed it aside.

“That leaves us one,” Simon said, holding up Celeste’s file. “She’s our best option.”

“She’s also a cocky, spoiled brat.”

“So what now? Another round of interviews?”

I stared at her file. Fourth round this month. My last assistant had lasted a grand total of one week before bailing. As much as I hated admitting it, maybe I needed someone with the guts to survive me.

“Mr. Bettencourt, Ms. Cole is waiting downstairs,” someone interrupted.

I blinked. “Thelma? She’s still here? Didn’t I tell her to wait at the restaurant?”

“Yes, sir. I… told her half an hour ago.”

Simon smirked. “Go. Don’t keep your fiancée waiting. I’ll handle this.”

I rubbed my forehead. It was Saturday, our date night. Thelma and I had a ritual, and I’d already bailed on her three weeks in a row.

I pointed at Celeste’s file. “Call her. Tell her to be here tomorrow, 8 a.m. sharp.”

Then I grabbed my jacket and made for the elevator.

Downstairs, there she was. Thelma Cole. My girlfriend of three years. A professional model, stunning as ever, but her expression screamed one thing: pissed.

“I’m sorry, Thelma,” I said the second I reached her.

“You said that last time,” she snapped, looking away.

“I had to finish interviews. It won’t happen again.” I kissed her hand. “Shall we?”

She eyed my suit. “In a business suit?”

“I don’t have time to change.” I opened the door for her, and we drove off in silence.

Dinner was tense. I booked us a quiet balcony table, ordered steak, tried to lighten the mood. Nothing worked.

“I said I was sorry. What do you want me to say?” I finally asked.

She leaned in, voice low but sharp. “How long are you going to live like this? Yes, you lost your parents, and I lost my father. We all lose people, Cedric. But you’re not the same man anymore.”

“Don’t go there,” I warned.

“Why not? Do you even realize what you’ve become? Where’s the man who used to smile? The man I fell in love with?” She grabbed my hands. “I want him back.”

“That man didn’t have an empire to run. People change. Get over it.” I pulled my hands away.

Her eyes filled with hurt. “Cedric, I can’t do this if you keep pushing me away.”

Before I could respond, my phone rang. Simon. An emergency. Of course.

“I have to get back to the office,” I said, standing.

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll take you home first—”

“For God’s sake, Cedric. If you walk out now—”

“Please, Thelma. Try to understand.”

She shot up, fuming. “Fine. Go. In fact, take this.” She yanked the ring off her finger and hurled it at me. “I’m calling off the wedding.”

“Thelma!” I caught the ring, heart pounding.

But she was already gone.