The Billionaire’s Assistant

“One bottle, One fight”

Anthony POV

Jealousy had never been an emotion I bothered with; why waste time on something when you can easily acquire something better? Everything and everyone had an invisible price tag, and with my ample wealth, obtaining the shiniest and most desirable things was a mere transaction away. Before jealousy even had the chance to rear its ugly head, I would already have a superior version in my possession.

But there was one exception – a trip to Qatar, the land of all wealth, where a 30-karat limited-edition bracelet caught my eye at an auction. It was a generous donation from Sheikh Bint Nasser, for an important cause that had me missing my mother's birthday to represent our company. I had an intense desire to acquire that stunning piece as a gift for my mother and an apology for my absence.

As the auction began, I was fixated on the gleaming gold bracelet showcased in a glass casing, envisioning scenes straight out of Marvel movies, where it could be swiped away effortlessly in a flash of light. However, an urgent work call interrupted my focus, demanding my immediate attention. By the time the call ended, the bracelet was already auctioned off to an Arabian prince.

The sting of losing something I truly coveted had become an unfamiliar sensation, igniting an unyielding desire within me. I couldn't forgive myself for letting the opportunity slip away. Fuelled by my longing, I hired a private investigator to track down the other two pieces of the bracelet that were still in circulation. With persistence, I managed to locate them and had them meticulously combined into a magnificent and unique creation.

Finally, armed with the best version of the bracelet, I returned to Canada, triumphant over my feelings of jealousy. I had taken control of the situation, turning the tide in my favor. From that moment on, jealousy knew its place – a mere spark that ignited my ambition and determination to acquire the finest things in life.

In a world where I could have any woman I desired, my heart chose Karen – a PR nightmare waiting to happen. It baffled me; she seemed to do everything wrong as my assistant. The scheduling issues tripled, and I found myself jetting off at odd hours due to her constant mix-ups, even with simple GMT calculations. Her mistakes bordered on absurdity, like handing my breakfast to a stranger, almost giving me a panic attack. I feared that I would have to invest more in therapy with Mrs. Bang next month as my stress levels soared.

But despite her mishaps and the constant headaches she caused, I couldn't deny the undeniable pull I felt toward Karen. My heart chose her, defying all logic and reasoning. It was a maddening and exhilarating feeling that left me puzzled and entranced.

On the other hand, Klaus, a colleague from Senegal, had a skillful charm that had even won my mother's approval when she recruited him into the McCarthy enterprise. At first, I underestimated him, but he proved his prowess in a chess game during one of our company retreats. His style, the Capablanca random chess, was enticing, and he always lured his opponents into a false sense of security before delivering a strategic blow.

Meanwhile, Karen seemed perpetually scared and reserved, never meeting my gaze. The spark I once saw during her interview had vanished, or so I thought until I noticed her interactions with Klaus during her lunch breaks. She transformed in his presence, radiating joy and warmth, wearing the widest smile I had ever seen. It was as if she had rediscovered herself and embraced her true essence.

I couldn't shake off the realization that I was the problem. I couldn't make her feel the way Klaus did. The fire in her eyes, the laughter, the joy – they were all there, but not for me. It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing that the woman I longed for could only truly be herself with someone else.

As my heart battled with these conflicting emotions, the allure of the forbidden and the unattainable deepened the captivating drama unfolding in my life. Karen had become an enigma that I couldn't decipher, leaving me both enthralled and haunted by the possibilities that lay ahead.

As I subtly disrupted Karen's date with Klaus at Joe's Bar, a devious delight filled me. I couldn't bear the thought of her smiling freely and without restraint, especially in a place where she shouldn't be found at night. After all, she was not just my assistant but a tiny representation of me to the entire staff, and her actions reflected the image of McCarthy Enterprise.

Joe's Bar held a special place in the hearts of everyone at McCarthy Enterprise, not just because of its proximity to the office or impeccable customer service, but because it offered a unique space where everyone could be themselves. The bar was a gift from my father to Joe, who had dreamt of becoming a mixologist, and my sister and I had admired its shiny red interior from a young age.

However, I had intentionally stayed away from Joe's, knowing that it was my staff's favorite spot. I didn't want to make my presence uncomfortable for my workers, so I chose to keep a distance, even though the allure of the bar and its vibrant atmosphere beckoned me.

“Is there somewhere you rather be Karen?” I asked feigning ignorance of my exploit to ruin her date with Klaus at Joe’s. She was engrossed with her phone and it took a while for her to phantom what I had said.

“No sir,” she said as she dropped her phone into her bag and tried to look more interested even though the meeting was being held in Chinese and she couldn’t hear a word that was being said. It was torture for her indeed but nothing close to what I feel when I see her with Klaus.

But the truth was, I had become captivated by Karen in the past week, observing her quirks and mannerisms. Her actions, like pulling the edge of her dress when bored or nervous, and flipping a lock of hair behind her ear when clueless, had become fascinating to me. It was thrilling and embarrassing at the same time to find myself so absorbed in studying her whenever we were in the same room.

As the meeting droned on in Chinese, I couldn't help but glance at Karen from the corner of my eye, admiring her even though I knew I shouldn't. The tantalizing blend of jealousy, desire, and forbidden feelings swirled within me, creating an enthralling drama that I couldn't escape. Karen had become a puzzle I couldn't solve, and my heart was entangled in the captivating web she had unknowingly spun around me.

The tension in the room was palpable as Karen's incessant clothe pulling threatened to unravel her dress. I decided to adjourn the meeting, unable to concentrate on anything but her increasingly erratic behavior. To my surprise, she made a hasty exit, disregarding the customary etiquette of waiting for superiors to leave first. I couldn't help but shake my head at her utter lack of manners.

I expected that she'd be rushing to her second job at this hour, but instead, she headed straight to Joe's Bar. All my plans to disrupt her date with Klaus were in vain. As I secretly followed her inside, I couldn't resist donning a black cap for disguise and freeing up the private box called "Playing God" with a generous payment. From this vantage point, I could observe them without being seen.

As I watched them interact, my jealousy simmered, causing my fingers to tremble as I poured a vintage Macallan 1939 into my tumbler. I was torn between admiring Karen's every move and being consumed by the gnawing envy that surged through me. She looked radiant, with the bar's lights illuminating her caramel skin, making her glow like a goddess.

Witnessing their connection, I couldn't help but acknowledge their perfect blend, like two varieties of honey coming together. In comparison, I felt like raw, unpasteurized milk – a pale reflection of their magnetic chemistry. As much as I longed to be the one sharing her breath, I knew I couldn't be the man who made her smile that way.

Realizing that torturing myself further was futile, I summoned the waiter and settled my bill, whispering a few enigmatic words to him before my departure. Being Anthony McCarthy had its advantages – I could come and go without my presence being felt, like a shadow in the night.

As I walked away, my emotions in turmoil, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and despair. Karen had become an elusive enigma, and my jealousy had ignited a fire I couldn't extinguish. My encounter at Joe's Bar had left me with a realization that I had to confront my feelings head-on, even if it meant accepting that Karen's heart belonged to another.