Bloodbound Betrayal

Chapter 6: Becoming Ned’s Assistant

“Ah!” Sophie suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth. Who is that? It was that arrogant, rude man again.

“Ned,” Jonathan strode straight to the GM’s desk. “Look here—I’ve brought you an assistant. From now on, you’ll be working together.” He pushed Sophie forward. Now the two were staring eye-to-eye, mortified.

Ned’s brows knitted tightly. He shot up from the executive chair. “Dad, you can’t be serious. Her—the convenience-store cashier who came to harass me this morning—and you’re making her my assistant?!”

“Convenience-store cashier? Harass? You two know each other? What harassment?” Jonathan looked between them, astonished.

Sophie recounted the whole incident from start to finish. “Haha, Ned, that was your mistake! You misunderstood Sophie. All right, let’s put this behind us. I’m deciding right now—Sophie will be your assistant. I was originally planning to have her work for me, but she turned down this old man, saying the young have more energy. She didn’t want the job! Haha!”

Hearing Uncle Harrington’s words, Sophie hurried to apologize, the explanation already on the tip of her tongue. “It’s getting late—no more awkwardness, you two. Come with me to the restaurant for lunch, then you can both officially start work. This afternoon I’m playing golf with Charles. Today I’m going to beat him by several strokes…” The trio left the 65th floor and took the elevator straight to the Western restaurant on the 4th floor.

Walking behind Jonathan, Sophie kept her eyes fixed ahead, inwardly groaning: This is mortifying. Of all people, it had to be him—my direct boss. Two terrible encounters in a row—this is the start of some clichéd drama. Please, no more plot twists. I’m not into domineering-CEO types at all! I like sunny, handsome, warm guys… That other young man who came in that day wasn’t bad, hehe! What a chaotic morning. Tonight I must get Mum to add an extra slice of cake to sweeten things up.

Ned, by contrast, appeared perfectly composed—no inner monologue betrayed him. From childhood, his upbringing had trained him to remain unruffled by anything, never to show joy or anger on his face. But for the girl beside him—so expressive, so unpretentious, so vividly different—he was beginning to feel curious. After all, upper-class girls matured early; they learned to scheme almost before they could walk. Their facial expressions and speech were all stamped from the same polished template: hypocrisy was just the first step, and beneath the glossy surface lay nothing but calculation and greed.

Edward James Harrington was only 20 years old, yet he had already earned a first-class honors degree in PPE (Philosophy, Politics, and Economics) from Oxford University. He was a true child prodigy, entering Oxford at 17 with outstanding grades and graduating with excellence in just three years.

At 16, he had begun participating in corporate decision-making. Despite his young age, his style was remarkably seasoned, and every project he touched turned out exceptionally well.

This time, he was tasked with independently managing Crown & Cipher. C&C was a longstanding British luxury five-star hotel, newly renovated and completed in early February 2025. This put enormous performance pressure on Ned—the group demanded that within six months, he achieve results on par with last year, and by year-end, secure a net growth of over 60%. It was already late March, and time was running out.

Meanwhile, as his newly appointed assistant, Sophie—a rookie fresh to the workplace—plunged headfirst into the chaos of work and the exclusion and exploitation from colleagues, carrying her visions for the future and eagerness for the professional world.

She was truly reluctant to become Ned’s assistant, not only because of two less-than-pleasant encounters, but also due to the deep-seated inferiority and fear of the unknown workplace environment within her. Coming from Manchester to London, she harbored a trace of self-doubt deep down, knowing full well that her background clashed with this glamorous position, yet she was unwilling to give up this hard-won opportunity.

“Sophie, this is the seat the chairman arranged for you—the as-sis-tant’s spe-cial seat.” After lunch, following Ned back to the office, she immediately felt the strange glances from her colleagues. The veteran employees were full of disdain and exclusion toward this parachuted assistant.

“Another one who got in through connections—looks like she’s not even of age!”

“Another inexperienced little rookie; we’re in for it again…”

“Don’t go soft—little rookies need plenty of toughening up…”

“…”

The colleagues were chatting animatedly in the group chat, occasionally casting furtive glances at Sophie and pointing at her behind her back. Sitting at her desk, Sophie felt as though thousands of eyes were scrutinizing her. In just one afternoon, she had been saddled with a pile of miscellaneous and chaotic tasks.

The colleagues assigned her all sorts of tedious and meaningless chores, as if she weren’t Ned’s assistant but everyone’s. From organizing mountains of accumulated files, to brewing instant coffee for colleagues, to handling the tricky documents no one wanted to touch…

A month passed, and Sophie had become like a robot at everyone’s beck and call, endlessly busy.

Worse still, some colleagues deliberately handed her tasks that were easy to take the fall for. Several times, minor projects under the department slipped up on details, causing the company certain losses. Yet the real project leads shoved all the blame onto Sophie, accusing her of failing to relay critical information in time, which led to the mishaps. Facing these groundless accusations, Sophie felt immense grievance and anger. She tried to explain to her colleagues, only to be met with even colder stares and sarcastic remarks.

“You’re just young—that’s why you messed up. Admit your mistake, don’t do it again, and stop throwing a tantrum. Tch~~”

“Sophie, if there’s anything you don’t understand in the future, come ask us seniors in time. Don’t just barrel ahead on your own.”

“Alright, alright, that’s how young people are—thinking they’re so smart, looking down on us old-timers.”

“Oh man, what a waste of effort. Because of your mistake, my bonus this month is gone. Bad luck!”

“…”