The Billionaire's Fated Love

Chapter 3

Tristan went straight to the inner sanctum—his office on the twentieth floor. Jacob followed a few paces behind, a stack of urgent documents clutched in his hands. He set them on the CEO’s desk, but his mind was elsewhere.

As Tristan slashed his way through the paperwork, Jacob slipped back into the executive lounge to cross-reference the applicants’ files. He counted thirty-two resumes. He flipped through them once. Then twice. His heart skipped a beat.

Not a single one was named "Vernice Williams."

Growing more perplexed by the second, he called HR. "Sandra, check the system again. Is there a Vernice Williams in the IT queue?"

"None, Mr. Brown," the HR reported as she worked on her keyboard. "No one by that name has applied today."

Left with no other choice, Jacob demanded the physical files for every single IT applicant. A few minutes later, Sandra arrived, handing over a stack of paper. Jacob began to peel through them, his eyes searched for the face he had just seen in the lobby.

He stopped. His breath hitched as he stared at the final resume.

The photo was unmistakable. It was Vernice. Every feature, every line of her face, was a perfect match. But the name typed in bold letters at the top of the page wasn't Vernice Williams. It was Belle Roberts.

Jacob’s forehead creased into deep lines of confusion. “Does she have a twin? No, impossible. The Williams family was clear—Vernice is an only child. Can two strangers really look this identical?”

He didn't wait. He snatched the file and marched back into the CEO’s office.

"Boss," he called as he walked up to Tristan’s desk.

"What now, Jacob?"

"You need to see this." Jacob slid the document across the desk.

Tristan’s eyes scanned the page. Slowly, his brows knitted together. "Is this for real?" He looked at Jacob, just in time to see him nod. "How is this possible? Are they twins?"

"I thought the same thing." And then Jacob reminded him, "But remember what Lawrence Williams told us? She’s the only daughter. There are no siblings."

Tristan leaned back in his leather chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "So, is this some cosmic coincidence? Or are the Williamses playing games with us?" He tapped the photo of the smiling girl on the paper and let out a short, cold chuckle. "If they’re trying to pull a fast one, they’ve got another thing coming."

He stared at the face of "Belle Roberts" for a long moment, and a spark of curiosity lit his eyes. "Check on the real Vernice again. Run a full trace. And hire this girl—this Belle—as my Executive Secretary. I want to know who she really is within an hour. Not a minute late!"

Downstairs, Sandra approached the woman waiting in line. "Miss Roberts? We’ve reviewed your application, and our CEO was very impressed. If you’ll follow me, please."

Belle’s heart hammered against her ribs. "Am I hired?" She inquired, her eyes wide.

Sandra gave a professional nod and gestured toward the executive elevators.

Belle was ecstatic. As the elevator climbed, she rubbed her palms together, a permanent, glowing smile fixed on her face. She couldn't believe it. She hadn't even been interviewed!

‘I must be better at coding than I thought!’

When the doors slid open on the twentieth floor, Belle was so energized she practically jumped out of the car, nearly colliding with Jacob.

Jacob watched her, eyes narrowed. ‘Why is she acting like a child? Is this an act? Is she pretending to be some innocent girl to hide her identity?’

He vividly remembered the real Vernice Williams. He had met her twice—once when he delivered her engagement ring, and she had been a snobbish, entitled brat who didn't even acknowledge his presence. The second time, he’d seen her scream at a waiter in a restaurant over a few drops of water on her purse.

This girl, bouncing on the balls of her feet with wide, curious eyes, seemed like a completely different person.

"Mr. Brown, this is Belle Roberts," Sandra introduced.

Belle beamed and extended a hand with genuine warmth. "Hi, Mr. Brown! I’m so excited to join the IT team."

Jacob and Sandra exchanged a quick, awkward glance. Sandra had forgotten to break the news. Jacob stepped in before the silence became weird. He gestured toward the executive office. "Follow me, please." He gave Sandra a dismissive nod, signaling she was free to go.

"Please, take a seat," Jacob pointed at one of the chairs.

Belle sat, but her eyes wandered. "Will I be working from here, Mr. Brown?" There were two desks, two computers, and... absolutely no IT equipment—no servers, monitors, or even hardware.

"I think there’s been a slight misunderstanding," Jacob leaned against the backrest of the other chair. He watched her closely for any flicker of "Vernice" in her expression. "Sandra forgot to mention that you weren't hired for IT. You’ve been hand-picked to be the CEO’s new Executive Secretary."

Belle’s jaw dropped. Her eyes were wide with shock. "What? But... that’s weird. I’m a computer engineer. I applied for IT." She pouted, her disappointment visible and uncensored.

Jacob couldn't help but chuckle. The reaction was too authentic to be faked. "Our CEO, Mr. De Clarion, felt you were more... suited for this role. You’ll be working directly with me."

He sat at his desk and began the orientation. "This is our shared office. The white phone is your direct line to the CEO. The black one is for the front desk. Are you following?"

Belle nodded, though her brain continued to buffer. ‘How did I qualify as a secretary? I don’t know the first thing about filing or schedules!’

Jacob cleared his throat to snap her back to attention. "May I continue?"

Belle heaved a sigh, realizing she was trapped. "Yes. Go ahead."

"Good. When reception calls about a visitor, check this list on the wall," Jacob pointed to a color-coded list. "It’s simple. People in the blue column go straight to the executive lounge. The ones in yellow should be sent to the visitor’s lounge. But those in the red column, and anyone else that’s not on the list, must be sent out immediately. They aren't welcome in this building, let alone this floor."

Belle stood up and walked to the wall, her finger tracing the names in the red column. She let out a small, amused huff. "Ha! So these are the 'bad guys,' then?"

Jacob’s heart nearly stopped. Vernice Williams’ name was right there in the red column. Belle had looked right at it and hadn't flinched. She hadn't even blinked. ‘Is she really not Vernice?’ Jacob’s mind spun.

To dig deeper, he started asking some quick "getting to know you" questions. "So, Belle, what brings you to Bree City?"

"I’m originally from Dale, but there’s no room to grow for IT grads there. I wanted a real challenge, so I moved here to find the best company in the city."

Jacob nodded. ‘She has a backstory. It seems like a solid one.’

However, their conversation was abruptly cut short when the heavy office door flew open with a bang. Jacob stood up instantly. Belle followed suit, but as she turned toward the door, she froze.

Her breath hitched. Her mouth parted slightly.

‘How can a man be this beautiful?’ she wondered, her heart doing a frantic somersault. ‘He didn't look like a CEO; he looked like a Greek god who had accidentally wandered into a corporate office.’

Tristan’s cold, blunt gaze landed on Belle the moment he stepped inside. He looked her up and down, his eyes trailing from her head to her toes with an entitled, analytical air. He noticed her starstruck expression and felt a flick of amusement. “I didn't realize my ex-fiancée was a goddess!”

Tristan had only ever seen photos of Vernice; they had never met face-to-face. He knew she had seen his pictures, though. As he stared at the girl in front of him, a thought crossed his mind: If she’s this bewitched by my looks, why on earth would she have run away from the wedding?