The Blind Maid Is My Secret Assistant

Chapter 4

Miguel Anguer had a problem.

A very serious problem.

And, for once, it had nothing to do with money.

It had nothing to do with the board of directors.

It had nothing to do with the mysterious traitor inside his company.

It was Anya Margo.

More specifically, Miguel had developed a habit.

Whenever something went wrong, he looked for Anya.

It had started with something small.

A missing document.

Then a business report.

Then a disagreement with one of his executives.

Then an important contract.

Before long, Anya had somehow become the first person he wanted to talk to whenever he had a problem.

The situation was becoming embarrassing.

Especially because Anya was his maid.

Not his secretary.

Not his business consultant.

Not his executive assistant.

His maid.

Yet somehow, the blind woman in the navy uniform had become more useful to him than half the executives sitting in his boardroom.

And Miguel wasn't sure whether he was impressed...

Or concerned.

It began one Monday morning.

Miguel was sitting at the breakfast table, staring at three different reports.

Anya entered carrying his coffee.

She placed the cup beside him.

"Good morning."

Miguel didn't answer.

Anya waited.

"Mr. Anguer?"

"Hmm?"

"Your coffee."

He looked at the cup.

"Thank you."

She turned to leave.

"Anya."

She stopped.

"Yes?"

"Come here."

She walked toward him.

"What do you need?"

Miguel pushed a report toward her.

"Read this."

Anya stared at him.

Then at the report.

"Why?"

"Because I want your opinion."

"I'm your maid and I can't see well."

"I know."

"Then why are you giving me business reports?"

"Because everyone in my company keeps telling me what they think I want to hear."

Anya smiled.

"And you think I won't?"

"I know you won't."

She tilted her head.

"That's true."

Miguel gestured toward the document.

"What's wrong with this proposal?"

Anya carefully picked it up.

She read the first page.

Then the second.

Then the third.

She remained silent.

Miguel waited.

After nearly a minute, she said:

"The profit projections are inflated."

Miguel raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"They assume the competitor won't respond."

"They probably won't."

"They will."

"Why?"

"Because this company is trying to enter their strongest market."

Miguel leaned back.

"Go on."

"They'll lower their prices temporarily."

"How do you know?"

"Because they can afford to."

Miguel stared at her.

Anya continued.

"If you move forward with this acquisition, you should delay the launch by six months."

"Six months?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Use the time to negotiate exclusive supplier contracts. Otherwise, your competitor will control the supply chain."

Miguel was silent.

That was exactly what his senior strategy team had failed to consider.

He picked up his phone.

"Cancel the meeting."

Anya blinked.

"Which meeting?"

"The acquisition meeting."

She smiled.

"Good."

Miguel looked at her.

"Good?"

"Yes."

"You sound pleased."

"I'm pleased when people listen to me."

Miguel almost smiled.

"You're becoming dangerous."

"I've been told."

By Wednesday, it happened again.

Miguel was preparing for a board presentation.

His executives had spent three days arguing over the presentation.

Nobody could agree on which strategy to recommend.

Miguel finally lost patience.

He returned to the mansion.

Anya was cleaning the library.

"Anya."

"Yes?"

"Come here."

She sighed.

"What now?"

Miguel handed her a stack of papers.

"Tell me what's wrong."

Anya stared at him.

"You really do this now?"

"Do what?"

"Bring your work to me."

"You seem to be good at it."

"I'm a maid."

"I know."

"Then why do you keep asking me?"

"Because you're better than most of my executives."

Anya paused.

That was unexpectedly sincere.

She took the papers.

She read them.

Then she frowned.

"The numbers on page twelve are wrong."

Miguel immediately checked.

She was right.

He looked at her.

"Anything else?"

"Yes."

She turned several pages.

"Your presentation focuses too much on expansion."

"That's the goal."

"No."

"No?"

"You don't need to expand."

Miguel frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

"You need to strengthen what you already own."

She pointed to the report.

"Your three most profitable divisions are losing market share."

"Only temporarily."

"No."

Anya tapped the paper.

"Your competitors are targeting your weaknesses."

Miguel stared at the document.

She was right.

Again.

He sat down.

"How did you notice that?"

"The numbers."

"Most people look at the numbers."

"Most people look at the totals."

She smiled.

"I look at what the totals are hiding."

Miguel stared at her.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then he smiled.

"You know, you're wasted here."

Anya laughed.

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

By the end of the week, Miguel's new habit was officially out of control.

He began calling Anya.

Not just when he was home.

During business hours.

At first, he called once.

Then twice.

Then four times.

On Friday morning, Anya was in the kitchen when her phone rang.

She answered.

"Hello?"

Miguel's voice came through.

"Where are you?"

Anya frowned.

"At the mansion."

"I know that."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I need your opinion."

"On what?"

"The Osaka contract."

Anya sighed.

"Mr. Anguer, I'm working."

"So am I."

"I'm cleaning."

"You can clean later."

"You're my employer."

"Exactly."

"Then you're ordering me to work?"

"No."

"Then why are you calling?"

"Because I need help."

Anya pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You have an entire legal department."

"They're incompetent."

"You have financial analysts."

"They're worse."

"Executives?"

"They're the reason I'm calling you."

Anya sighed.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Then what happened?"

"One of my partners wants to change the terms."

"Don't agree."

"Why?"

"Because they're testing you."

There was silence.

Miguel asked:

"How do you know?"

"They want to know how desperate you are."

Miguel sat back in his office chair.

She had understood the situation in less than thirty seconds.

"You're right."

"I usually am."

"That's becoming annoying."

"So is calling me every two hours."

Miguel smiled.

"I'll call you again later."

"Don't."

"Goodbye, Anya."

The call ended.

Anya stared at her phone.

"Unbelievable."

At lunch, Miguel called again.

"Yes?"

"I need your opinion."

Anya closed her eyes.

"About what?"

"The new shipping agreement."

"No."

"You haven't even seen it."

"I don't need to."

"Why?"

"Because if you're asking me, you already don't trust it."

Miguel went silent.

Anya smiled.

"Am I right?"

"Unfortunately."

"Then don't sign it."

"I won't."

"Good."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He hung up.

Anya put down the phone.

Three seconds later, it rang again.

She answered.

"What?"

"I forgot something."

"What?"

"Your coffee was terrible this morning."

Anya stared into the distance.

"Goodbye, Mr. Anguer."

She ended the call.

By Saturday, Anya had had enough.

Miguel was sitting in his study reviewing contracts.

Anya entered with a tray.

He looked up.

"I need your opinion."

"No."

Miguel blinked.

"No?"

"No."

"But I haven't asked the question."

"You don't need to."

"Anya."

"I'm your maid."

"I know."

"Not your secretary."

Miguel leaned back.

"You're better than my secretary."

Anya Picqueed her arms.

"Then pay me more."

Miguel froze.

Silence filled the room.

Anya waited.

Miguel stared at her.

She stared back.

He slowly lowered the document in his hand.

"Did you just negotiate a salary increase?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

"You're my employer."

Miguel blinked again.

She had done it.

She had walked into his office, insulted his secretary, criticized his business habits, and negotiated a raise in under thirty seconds.

"How much?"

Anya named a figure.

Miguel nearly choked.

"That's ridiculous."

"You said I'm better than your secretary."

"I didn't say you're worth that much."

"You implied it."

"I did not."

"You did."

Miguel stared at her.

She smiled.

He realized something terrible.

She had won.

Again.

"Fine."

Anya's smile widened.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"Effective immediately."

"Excellent."

She turned toward the door.

"Anya."

She stopped.

"Yes?"

"You're enjoying this."

"Very much."

She left.

Miguel watched her go.

Then he laughed.

He couldn't help it.

The woman was impossible.

That evening, Miguel discovered another problem.

His board meeting had gone exceptionally well.

The strategy Anya had suggested had impressed the directors.

The acquisition she had warned him about had been delayed.

The financial risk had been avoided.

The shipping agreement had been renegotiated.

And somehow, every decision he had made after consulting Anya had worked.

Miguel sat alone in his office.

He looked at his phone.

He wanted to call her.

He stopped.

"No."

He put the phone down.

Ten seconds later, he picked it up.

He called.

Anya answered immediately.

"What?"

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That the board would reject the original proposal?"

"They wouldn't."

Miguel frowned.

"What?"

"They wouldn't reject it."

"Then why did you tell me to change it?"

"Because you didn't need their approval."

Miguel was silent.

"What?"

"They wanted to see whether you were confident."

Anya's voice was calm.

"You gave them three alternatives. That made you look uncertain."

Miguel leaned back.

She was right again.

"I changed the presentation."

"I know."

"You weren't there."

"I heard."

Miguel smiled.

"You were listening?"

"Perhaps."

He laughed.

"You really are mysterious."

"So I've been told."

There was a pause.

Then Miguel said quietly:

"Thank you."

Anya was surprised.

"For what?"

"For helping me."

She smiled.

"You're welcome."

"Good night."

"Good night, Mr. Anguer."

He ended the call.

For several seconds, Anya sat quietly.

Something about his voice had changed.

There was less arrogance.

More warmth.

She didn't like how much she noticed it.

Because she knew she shouldn't become emotionally involved.

Miguel was her employer.

Her mission.

And potentially her greatest complication.

Over the next few weeks, their strange relationship became normal.

Miguel began asking Anya's opinion on everything.

Business contracts.

Restaurant menus.

Travel schedules.

Even his wardrobe.

One morning, he stood in front of her.

"Black or gray?"

Anya looked at his suit.

"Black."

"Why?"

"It makes you look less approachable."

"I don't want to be approachable."

"I know."

He smiled.

"Good."

Another morning, he asked:

"Should I fire Daniel?"

Anya frowned.

"Why?"

"He annoyed me."

"That's not a reason."

"He made a mistake."

"Then correct him."

Miguel stared at her.

"You've become very bossy."

"Someone has to be."

He smiled.

"You know, I think you enjoy telling me what to do."

"I do."

But beneath the humor, Anya continued her investigation.

Every morning, she organized Miguel's documents.

Every evening, she listened when executives visited.

Every night, she secretly reviewed the information she had gathered.

The evidence was becoming clearer.

Someone had been accessing Miguel's private files.

Money had been transferred through hidden accounts.

Several contracts had been deliberately sabotaged.

And the silver cufflink she had discovered belonged to someone very close to the Anguer family.

Anya knew she was getting closer.

But so was the enemy.

One evening, she found another anonymous message waiting in her room.

There were only six words.

I KNOW YOU ARE HELPING HIM.

Anya's blood ran cold.

Someone knew.

She immediately looked toward the window.

Nothing.

She checked the hallway.

Empty.

Then she heard footsteps.

Slow.

Heavy.

Approaching her door.

Anya slipped the message into her pocket.

The footsteps stopped.

A knock sounded.

"Anya?"

Miguel.

She opened the door.

He stood there holding two cups of coffee.

"I thought you might be awake."

Anya looked at the coffee.

Then at him.

"What do you want?"

Miguel handed her a cup.

"Nothing."

She raised an eyebrow.

"That's unusual."

He smiled.

"I just wanted to say thank you."

"For what?"

"For being my secret weapon."

Anya's heart skipped.

"I'm not your weapon."

"I know."

He looked at her.

"You're something much more dangerous."

Anya smiled.

"What?"

"Someone I trust."

For a moment, she couldn't speak.

Trust.

That word was dangerous.

Because Miguel trusted the woman standing in front of him.

But he didn't know who she really was.

He didn't know she was investigating his company.

He didn't know she had saved him from financial disasters.

He didn't know that every time he called her for advice, she was secretly gathering information that could expose the traitor.

And he certainly didn't know that the woman he trusted most was the very person he had never thought to suspect.

Anya looked at him.

"Good night, Miguel."

It was the first time she had called him by his first name.

Miguel noticed.

His expression softened.

"Good night, Anya."

He walked away.

Anya closed the door.

She pressed her back against it.

Her heart was beating far too quickly.

She touched the message in her pocket.

I know you are helping him.

The danger was no longer theoretical.

Someone was watching.

Someone knew she was helping Miguel.

And someone wanted her to stop.

But Anya had no intention of stopping.

Not now.

Because somewhere along the way, her mission had changed.

At first, she had been helping Miguel because it was her assignment.

Then she had helped him because he was in danger.

Now...

She was helping him because she cared.

And that frightened her more than any enemy ever could.

Across the mansion, Miguel sat in his office.

He looked at the latest anonymous note from his mysterious assistant.

It contained only one sentence:

THE BIGGEST THREAT IS ALREADY INSIDE YOUR HOUSE.

Miguel slowly smiled.

"My secret assistant."

He looked toward the door.

And for the first time, a strange thought entered his mind.

Maybe the person he trusted most was already standing beside him.

Maybe the answer had been in front of him all along.

He simply hadn't learned how to see it yet.

And neither Miguel nor Anya realized that their lives were about to collide in a way neither of them could escape.

The CEO had found his secret assistant.

He just didn't know she was wearing a maid's uniform.