THE TWIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER 002: CHRISTOPHER

“Sir, the board of directors has chosen a suitable candidate for the post of Assistant secretary,” a thick voice announced while skimming through a schedule pad.

“The resumé.” A cold voice rang through the office suite from the office table which had a golden plaque that read ‘CEO- Christopher Alexander Jones’, a few minutes after the Director, Scott Malcolm, made the statement.

“ Huh?” Scott stared at the Ceo’s outstretched right arm, which had been rolled up, showing the vigorous streaks outlining his veins and muscles in wonder.

‘ Boss is sure a strong man. Look at those muscles. "If I had just one percent of that, my wife wouldn't abuse me and make me exercise every day ‘ he wept internally as he stared at Christopher Jones in envy.

After minutes of holding his hand out, Christopher looked away from the documents he was working on only to see Scott staring at his arm in a daze. He was dumbfounded.

“Scott!!” his chilly voice rang out again in frustration, as if laced with ice, it pricked Scott awake.

“ Ahh, Boss, here it is'' he gave him a document with an embarrassed face.

“ It seems that I've been too lenient these days,” Christopher said as he collected the documents while keeping to his stoic face, but Scott stiffened at his statement as cold sweat dripped down his face.

“Ivianna Foster, huh? A grin forcefully tugged at his lips as he saw the details on the documents while Scott stared at him in amazement, to him, his boss was smiling. ‘ When was the last time I saw him smile?’ he pondered.

“Make her my Personal Assistant,” Christopher declared while still checking through the resume. Scott was shocked that he couldn't respond till a few seconds later.

“ But boss, you never took in any assistants even when the Chairman said you should. "Why'd you want to now?” he asked curiously, also contemplating what the reason might be.

“Is that difficult to comprehend? It seems that you have some grievances. You're tired of your job already?”

“Oh no! It's not difficult at all. "I'll get it done”, Scott stuttered as Christopher’s sharp gaze made him shiver. Forcing a smile, he bowed to him before running out of the penthouse.

“And prepare the car, I'll be down in ten minutes,” Christopher said again, not looking at the already stiffened Scott. Sighing in relief, he went out.

After clearing his desk of all the files, he strode out of the penthouse to the garage into a black inconspicuous car.

.

The entrance to the mansion was a long, winding driveway that led through a forest of tall trees. As the car approached, the trees began to thin out, revealing a large, imposing structure. The mansion was made of gray stone, with tall windows that looked out over the sprawling grounds. It was a stately and imposing structure, almost like a character in its own right. The car pulled up to the front door, and the driver opened the door for the passenger. As Christopher stepped out, the grandeur of the mansion was even more apparent. The stone steps leading up to the door were worn but smooth from years of use, and it still emanated an elegant and antique aura. The doorknocker was an intricately detailed lion's head, and the door itself was heavy and solid. The windows on either side of the door were framed with ornate carvings of flowers and vines. The entire entrance had an air of age and history, as if it had been standing for centuries. Christopher paused for a moment, almost as if they were paying their respects to the mansion before he entered.

As soon as he got to the hallway, something jumped out of the shadows, or so he thought. As the figure leaped out of the shadows, he reacted with lightning speed, throwing out a kick that seemed to move in slow motion. As soon as the kick landed, the attacker let out a yelp of pain and crumpled to the floor. Christopher felt a rush of adrenaline and fear as he realized what he had just done.

Then, as the figure on the floor turned over, his heart almost stopped. It was his sister, lying there on the floor, clutching her side in pain.

"Ch-charlotte?" he stammered. W-whatt are you doing here?" His sister slowly got to her feet, still holding her side.

"I wasn’t trying to get your attention. "I need your membership card," she said, her voice trembling as she pouted. Then, she suddenly clung to his arm as if she wasn't the one who had been kicked moments ago. The embrace lingered for a moment, before Christopher pulled her hand away, confused.

"What do you mean, membership card?" he asked. His sister took a deep breath, then said,

"You're a shareholder in the Rosewood Hotel Group, right?" he nodded, still confused.

"Well, I've been trying to get a job at one of their hotels for months, but I can't get an interview," his sister said. "If you could just give me your membership card, I could get in to talk to the manager and maybe finally get my foot across the door.”

“I'm not convinced. "Any more lies you've got in that little head of yours?”

“I just want to be able to go and leave freely,” Charlotte stated while twisting her fingers. “We're twins, you know." Just this one favor, and it’s not like it is something difficult,” she pleaded, acting spoiled.

Charlotte Jones was incredibly spoiled by her grandpa, who showered her with gifts and indulged her with every whim. She never had to lift a finger around the house, and she could always count on her grandpa to provide for her every need. She was the epitome of a pampered princess, and she was quite content to remain that way. However, this lifestyle had made her somewhat naïve and sheltered, and she tended to believe whatever she was told without questioning it. This often got her into trouble, but her grandpa was always there to bail her out.

“I already know that it's one of your petty plans again. You shouldn't eat too many sweets, as for the card, just forget it.” Christopher declared, walking down the hallway. As soon as she saw him leaving, she grabbed the sleeve of his suit.

He looked at her, her eyes pleading with him. "I can't do that," he said. His sister's face fell, her shoulders slumping. "Please," she said, her voice breaking. "I really need this." The plea tugged at his heart.

"Children!" A deep, authoritative voice cut through the tension like a knife.