HIS LAST ASSISTANT

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jasmine stared at the woman across from her. For a moment, neither spoke. The café buzzed with normal life around them. Coffee machines hissed. Cups clinked against saucers. People laughed at nearby tables, yet somehow the air between them felt heavy and dangerous.

The woman kept glancing over her shoulder as if expecting someone to appear, as if fear had become a habit.

Jasmine understood that look, Natalie had worn it for months.

"What happened?" Jasmine asked quietly.

The woman's fingers tightened around her coffee cup. "My name is Olivia."

Olivia swallowed, then laughed softly. "I haven't said this out loud in years."

Jasmine's chest tightened, and Olivia looked down at the table. "I worked directly under Richard."

The words immediately made Jasmine sit straighter.

"When?"

"Five years ago."

Five years, so this wasn't recent, Richard had been doing this for years.

Olivia continued. "He was charming at first."

"They always are."

Olivia smiled bitterly, and then her expression darkened. "When I rejected him, everything changed."

Jasmine's stomach sank. The details were different, but the pattern was not. Bad evaluations, sudden disciplinary reports, opportunities disappearing, colleagues turning distant, eventually termination.

By the time Olivia finished speaking, Jasmine felt physically sick because she wasn't hearing Natalie's story. She was hearing the same story again, just with a different name attached.

"Why didn't you fight it?"

The question escaped before Jasmine could stop herself. Immediately, regret filled her, Olivia didn't seem offended. She seemed only tired.

"So tell me."

She looked directly at Jasmine. "If one of the most powerful executives in your industry quietly destroys your reputation..."

Her voice cracked slightly. "Who exactly do you fight?"

Jasmine had no answer, neither did Natalie nor the countless women before them. That was the problem.

Olivia reached into her handbag, pulled out a flash drive, and placed it on the table.

Jasmine stared at it. "What is this?"

"Insurance."

Olivia's eyes hardened. "For years, I kept copies."

Jasmine's pulse jumped. Olivia had copies, evidence, and proof. Olivia pushed the drive closer. "I don't know what's useful."

Jasmine grabbed it immediately.

"Thank you."

Olivia stood fast as if she couldn't stay another second. Before leaving, she looked directly at Jasmine.

"Be careful."

Jasmine frowned. "Of Richard?"

Olivia hesitated, then nodded slightly. "Men like him don't stop until they're forced to."

Then she walked away, leaving Jasmine alone with the flash drive and a growing sense that they had just taken the first step into something much bigger.

•

•

Meanwhile, Natalie was having a completely different kind of nightmare.

A dinner invitation, one piece of paper, one sentence, yet somehow it felt like a death sentence. She stared at it from her desk, then stared some more, then she considered setting it on fire. Unfortunately, arson was generally frowned upon.

"You're glaring at it."

Natalie looked up, Samantha stood nearby, amusement flickering in her eyes.

"Maybe it'll disappear."

"It won't."

"Damn."

Samantha almost smiled. "The Cole family dinner is tomorrow."

Natalie's stomach dropped. Tomorrow, wonderful, just wonderful. She had exactly twenty-four hours to prepare for a family that had already hated her.

A family she'd never met, a family powerful enough to make Richard look ordinary.

Natalie groaned. "Can I be sick?"

"No."

"Food poisoning?"

"No."

"Sudden amnesia?"

Samantha folded her arms. "No."

Natalie sighed dramatically. Life was unfair, very unfair. Samantha's expression softened slightly.

"Just survive."

That wasn't nearly as comforting as she seemed to think.

•

•

Later that evening, Damien sat alone in his office. The city glittered beyond the glass walls. Normally, he appreciated the silence, but tonight, it felt unusually restless.

A knock sounded.

"Come in."

Marcus entered without waiting for permission as usual, Damien wasn't surprised.

Marcus dropped into a chair, and as usual, Damien wasn't surprised by that either. "You look miserable."

"I'm working."

"No."

Marcus shook his head. "You're thinking."

Marcus grinned. "About Natalie."

Damien looked up slowly, dangerously.

Marcus looked delighted. "That's a yes."

"It's not."

"It absolutely is."

Damien returned to his paperwork, a clear signal for Marcus to leave, but he ignored it completely.

"You know, this is fascinating."

Damien said nothing, and Marcus leaned back. "For years, women threw themselves at you."

"And suddenly you're interested in the one woman who doesn't care that you're a billionaire."

Damien's pen stopped moving for half a second, Marcus noticed. Of course, he noticed, the i***t noticed everything.

Marcus smiled. "There he is."

Damien put the pen down.

"What do you want?"

"Honestly?"

Marcus stood, straightening his jacket. "I want front-row seats."

Damien narrowed his eyes.

"To what?"

Marcus's grin widened. "The moment you finally realize you're in trouble."

Then he left, leaving Damien alone again.

Unfortunately… Marcus wasn't entirely wrong, and that irritated him more than anything.

•

•

The following evening arrived far too quickly, Natalie stood outside the Cole family estate frozen.

The mansion was enormous, elegant, and intimidating. It was everything she expected, everything she feared. The iron gates alone probably cost more than her annual salary.

Beside her, Damien stepped out of the car, looking completely calm. Of course, he was calm. This was his home, his battlefield, not hers.

Natalie looked at the mansion, then at Damien, then back at the mansion. "I've changed my mind."

"No."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

Natalie glared at him, Damien almost smiled but stopped himself, and then the front doors opened. A housekeeper appeared, and suddenly, it became real.

There was no escaping now, no delaying, no pretending, the Cole family was waiting. Somewhere inside that mansion sat the people who believed she wasn't good enough, who believed she didn't belong, who wanted her gone before they'd even met her.

Damien offered his arm, Natalie looked at it, then at him. For one brief moment, she hesitated, and then she took it. Together, they walked toward the mansion toward the family, toward the war, and neither of them noticed the woman watching from the second-floor window.

Victoria Cole, Damien's mother. Her expression was cold, and her judgment?... already made.