CHAPTER 97: FIRST DAY AT WORK

Under the dual pressures of seduction and coercion, Beauty finally made up her mind to work at Marson Corporation.

If she refused, given Lucas’s ruthless methods, she might not even get her diploma.

All those years at university would go to waste, and she’d probably end up relying on him for everything.

She’d become nothing but a freeloader—no way in hell was she letting that happen!

The HR manager handed her over to Lucas’s personal assistant with a polite smile before swiftly making her exit, not even glancing back.

Beauty’s heart sank.

She immediately grabbed the assistant’s hand, her lips trembling slightly.

"Um... whose assistant am I supposed to be?"

The assistant’s lips curled into a motherly smile as she casually tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Then, she pinched Beauty’s plump, youthful cheek.

"Sweetheart, you’re stuck with me now.

Care to take a guess?"

"Yours?" Beauty refused to acknowledge the obvious, though deep down, she already knew the answer.

If Lucas’s assistant was taking her under her wing, whose assistant could she possibly be?

Damn it—she should’ve asked when signing the contract!

Now, even if she wanted to back out, it was too late.

The assistant grinned slyly, eyeing Beauty like a brothel madam sizing up a fresh-faced courtesan.

Beauty shuddered, her skin prickling with unease as her face drained of color.

"From now on, you’re the boss’s personal assistant.

Start by reading through this stack of assistant guidelines.

I’ll quiz you on the rules before the end of the day."

They say a woman’s mood changes faster than flipping a page—and this one was no exception.

Her previously indulgent, matchmaker-like smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a stern expression with a glint of shrewdness in the corners of her eyes.

Beauty forced a radiant smile, her lips twitching at the edges.

She glanced at the assistant and said in an ingratiating tone, "Madam Lena, um... do we really have to memorize all this?

And there’s going to be spot checks?

What’s with this uncle and his endless rules?

Is he just trying to make our lives miserable?"

The assistant’s sharp side-eye made Beauty flinch slightly.

She used to think the uncle’s assistant was just aloof—a cold but stunning beauty.

Now, she realized the woman was more like the ruthless Witch!

She was nothing but a lamb waiting for slaughter, doomed to a miserable fate.

"Don’t call me ’Auntie Lena’ or ’Madam Lena.’ Address me as Supervisor Lena from now on," the woman said coolly.

"I’ll be your direct superior.

Who would’ve thought the day would come when I’d be the one calling the shots for you, Beauty?

Don’t expect any special treatment just because we’re acquainted.

Though, I suppose being under me is still better than falling into President Lucas’s hands."

Beauty’s eyelashes fluttered.

Honestly, she’d rather take her chances with Lucas—at least he’d make it quick.

One clean strike, and it’d be over.

But this Lena? She was clearly the type to use a dull blade, slicing slowly to prolong the agony.

If only she’d been nicer to her before.

Crossing a man like Lucas meant certain doom, but offending those close to him wasn’t much better.

Beauty sighed inwardly, praying she’d live long enough to endure whatever torture lay ahead.

"President Lucas’s minimum requirement for all assistants is to recite these regulations flawlessly," Lena said, arching a delicate eyebrow with an amused smile.

"You’ve got half a day.

Given how clever and resourceful you are, I’m sure you’ll manage.

I have high hopes for you."

Beauty felt like crying, but her face remained an inscrutable mask, betraying no emotion whatsoever.

After all, concealing her true feelings was what she did best.

Her desk was positioned directly opposite Lena’s.

The mere thought of having to face that ice-cold woman every single day made her wish she could just disappear into thin air.

She had even given Lena a new nickname—"Ice Queen"—and it suited her perfectly.

Cold as frost, intimidating as a winter storm, she carried herself like an imperial concubine basking in the emperor’s favor.

The thick stack of assistant regulations made her head spin, but thankfully, her photographic memory saved her.

She could recall anything after just one glance.

That, at least, was her saving grace.

As she skimmed through the endless rules, she couldn’t help but mutter under her breath,

"Tsk, tsk."

Lucas was clearly a control freak.

Who in their right mind would document their personal habits in such excruciating detail and then force their assistant to memorize them?

The entire afternoon was spent poring over the company’s employee handbook and the even more daunting executive assistant guidelines—a stack thicker than her college entrance exam prep materials.

At least the day passed without further incident.

Lucas was too swamped with work to bother with her, and she was already familiar with the company’s layout.

Over the years, he had summoned her to "save the day" more times than she could count.

Just before clocking out, Sarah walked in with a stack of contracts for Lena, then sidled up to Beauty’s desk and whispered, "Got plans after work?

Let’s grab dinner—a little celebration for joining the Marson empire."

"Does this... call for celebration?"

Beauty lifted her head from the thick stack of regulations, her gaze drifting slowly to Sarah’s face.

She tried to force a smile, but it just wouldn’t come.

Sarah gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

With downcast eyes, she murmured softly,

"Since we’re here, we might as well make the best of it.

Not just stay, but excel."

What Beauty admired most about Sarah was her decisive, no-nonsense attitude—a quintessential go-getter, yet not without a touch of feminine charm and grace.

There probably wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t be drawn to a woman like Sarah.

No wonder Drake turned into a nervous wreck whenever he saw her, like a mouse spotting a cat.

Who would’ve thought that while meeting Sarah for lunch at a nearby Western restaurant near the office, they’d run into Samantha?

Drake’s current girlfriend—and Sarah’s once-best friend.

Sometimes, fate really had a cruel sense of humor.

The moment Samantha returned from abroad, she joined Drake’s company as a legal advisor.

The two rekindled their old flame and picked up right where they left off.

Sarah had zero interest in their messy affairs.

For the past two years, she’d avoided them at all costs, steering clear of any situation where she might cross paths with Samantha—sparing them both the awkwardness.

"Sarah?

You’re here too?"

There was no escaping this encounter now.

Samantha was walking toward Sarah and Beauty with a gentle smile, her arm casually linked through Drake.

The man beside her still carried that same devil-may-care attitude, showing not a trace of awkwardness at running into his ex-girlfriend.

He’s probably forgotten all about our relationship already, Sarah thought bitterly.

Yet her face remained perfectly composed as she smiled, carefully cutting a piece of meat and placing it in her mouth with deliberate grace.

"What a coincidence running into you both here," she said, practically forcing out the word "both" through clenched teeth.

Her gaze deliberately avoided Drake, rendering him invisible in her periphery.

The warm smile she offered was reserved solely for Samantha.