Cassie’s POV
I stared at my laptop screen, reading the email for the fifth time, still unable to believe what I was seeing.
He wants me to escort him to his family meeting this weekend — as his assistant. This is madness. I was supposed to go as his date.
Does he know I’m nothing but a fraud and a liar? Is he planning to expose me in front of his entire family before dragging me off to rot in jail?
I glanced at him from my office. His eyes were fixed on his computer.
Such a heartless asshole. I honestly can’t do this. I was just helping my friend out. I know I lied, but I won’t be treated like a criminal because of it.
Before I could think twice, I was already standing in front of him in his office, his cold eyes on me. Whatever courage I’d built up on the way over had vanished.
"Are you lost?" he said, still waiting for a reply.
I couldn’t find the words I needed, but I had to say something.
"No, sir." I pushed on. "I’m sorry, but I can’t come with you to your family meeting."
I said it. I actually said it.
"And why is that?"
Because I won’t be treated like a criminal just for lying. It’s cruel of you to expect me to show up as your date and your assistant on the same night, just to expose me. I can’t do it.
I wished I could say all of that to his face, but I honestly didn’t know what game he was playing. He acted like he had no ulterior motive at all.
God, it was so confusing.
"My best friend’s mother died, and I need to be with her this weekend, when she goes back to her family’s house." I lowered my head, just enough to make it convincing. If he knew who I really was, he’d be acting very differently. So what’s it going to be, Mr. Douchebag?
"I need you at that meeting. It’s more business than memorial for my grandfather, so I need someone taking notes."
Really? How could he think about business when his grandfather had just died? This was supposed to be the one time he made space for his family, and all he could think about was work.
"But sir, I really can’t ditch my friend right now. It reminds me of when my mom died." I let a little more feeling into my voice. "She was the only one there for me. I have to be there for her too."
He stared at me, something like concern in his eyes. I could see it land — this probably reminded him of his own mother, the way CeCe had told me it would. That was his weak point.
"Fine. You can go. Just know you’ll make up for missing this meeting."
"Thank you, sir." I was already heading for the door. Make up for it? I scoffed inwardly — at least I wouldn’t have to play his date and his assistant in the same night.
What could he possibly make me do that would be worse than pretending to be two different people at once?
I sank into my chair, relief flooding through me. But if he really didn’t know who I was, he would’ve acted differently than he had.
He genuinely had no idea about my double life. That thought carried me through the rest of the day —
— until a text came in, reminding me about the family meeting, how much he’d love for me to come.
Fear hit me first, then my stomach dropped when I looked up and saw him watching me from his office, phone still in hand.
My hands were shaking before I even registered it, and then my phone was on the floor.
Shit.
This was the last thing I needed — a broken phone, especially while I was still saving up for my own place.
Bing.
The intercom buzzed. I already knew it was Mr. Blackwood; I could see him through the glass, phone in hand.
"This is Mr. Blackwood’s office. How may I help you?" My voice came out shaky, knowing full well it was the devil himself on the line — but protocol was protocol.
"Come to my office. Now." His voice echoed through the line.
My legs went weak, caught somewhere between the fear that he knew who I really was and the fact that my phone — broken because of him — was now sitting in pieces on the floor.
"You sent for me, sir."
"Why were you on your phone during work hours? Don’t you know basic work ethic?" His voice made my skin crawl.
"I — I’m sorry, sir." I stammered.
"Sorry? Are you an amateur? What was so important that you neglected your work to stare at your phone?"
"Nothing, sir." My eyes were already burning with tears.
No. Don’t. Not here, not now. You don’t want him to see you like this. He doesn’t deserve a single tear from you.
You’ve survived worse than him — your deadbeat father, and worse. So be strong.
I fought to keep the tears from falling.
"Since you clearly have time to spare while on duty, clear your schedule. The company’s acquisition records — a hundred and forty-seven files. I want every one reviewed, organized, and on my desk before you leave tonight."
I looked at him with pure hatred, but there was nothing I could do.
"Yes, sir." I went back to my office, still reeling from what had just happened. My broken phone, at least, still turned on — it needed serious repair, but it worked. A hundred and forty-seven files. I texted Kate that I wouldn’t be home early — might not be home at all — there was no way I could finish this alone before midnight.
By 8 p.m., the office had emptied out except for security making their rounds. Mr. Blackwood had told them I’d be working overtime.
Unlike Mr. Blackwood, his security team was kind enough to bring me snacks.
"You sure you don’t want to leave this and finish tomorrow?" one of the officers asked.
"No — he specifically told me not to leave until it’s done."
He gave me a look of pity. "For what it’s worth, I know he comes off tough, but he’s not, really."
"I’ve seen how he treats his other assistants — stricter with them than he is with you. He likes you. That’s why you’re still here. If he didn’t, you’d have been gone on day one. He doesn’t give second chances."
I smiled. "Thanks."
Are we talking about the same person? He was a demon in a nice suit — how else would he have me here at this hour, buried in his files?
I was disgusted, and honestly a little disappointed by the whole thing. But I kept going — thank god tomorrow was the weekend. I wouldn’t have to see his face.
Then I remembered: I still had to go to his family meeting with him tomorrow.
By 11 p.m., I’d reviewed the last file. My whole body ached from sitting so long, my head pounding, but I found my way out of the building and tried to flag down a cab.
A car pulled up in front of me. "Miss Cassie?"
"Yes." My voice shook. I had no idea if getting in was a mistake — someone out there had arranged to have me raped, and for all I knew, it could’ve been my own father behind it, or anyone.
"Sorry — do I know you?"
"No. Mr. Blackwood sent me to take you home. It’s not safe out here this late."
I refused at first, but he called, and I heard his voice on the line, telling me I was still under his company’s name — if anything happened to me, it would reflect badly on him.
I got in the car. Between the cold, the pounding headache, and the ache in my body, I couldn’t argue anymore.