I EMPLOYED MY RIVAL'S DAUGHTER.

CHAPTER 1: MOST PEOPLE AREN'T ME.

Declan Voss

“No…officers listen to me, I have never seen this girl in my whole life,” I struggled to free myself from the grip of the cops on me. I sent a pleading look at Victor's way. ”Do something! We were together that night” I said hoping he would save me from this crime I knew nothing about.

Victor smirked, I could see how evil it was and the next thing he said left me speechless. “Officers take him away…he doesn't deserve to live among the rest of the citizens.” Victor looked at me with fake pity but happiness glinted in his eyes. ”Declan, I told you, to change or you will be put behind bars”

I exploded, trying to launch at Victor but was held back. “Bastard!”

The son of a b***h just denied me. I have never been this betrayed in my life. Not just by anyone, but someone I call a friend. My best friend.

“You f*****g did it, Victor, admit it!” Victor screamed. “…take him away officers”

I wanted nothing more than to push a knife into his chest. My best friend just betrayed me.

The reality of what is happening, hits harder than a bullet.

I pushed forward at him again, “You piece of s**t! I'll kill you when I'm out and then go to jail for real when I do that“

★★★ End of flashback★★★

I swiveled my chair in slow circles, with my eyes shut and my fingers drumming on my u-desk. My heart is pounding with the fire of revenge.

My phone chimed, making me open my eyes...I leaned forward to the phone on the desk, and a smirk danced around my lips. It was a reminder for today's Interview.

I leaned back in my chair, and the leather creaked under my weight, and my eyes stared at the name on the screen: ZARA LANGFORD. One of the applicants.

The almighty daughter of Victor Langford. My worst Rival and enemy. The man who'd smiled when he took my company away seven years ago...back then, I was really naive enough to trust partners. He'd taken away my patents, my Investors, my future, all that I built from scratch and left me with nothing but a rage for vengeance and a lesson I'll never forget, one that is in-scripted deep in my heart; *’ Trust is a luxury a billionaire can't afford.'*

Now Victor is going bankrupt. And the empire he never built is crumbling at his feet. And his precious daughter was job-hunting. Desperate enough to apply at Voss Enterprises without knowing who the CEO was.

Perfect! It's gonna be an interesting interview.

I tapped the intercom. " Send her in"

The door opened a moment later, and there she was.

Zara Langford walked into my office as if she owned it; her shoulders were back, her chin held high, and her dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, catching the afternoon light. She wore a simple black blazer over a white blouse, her pencil skirt fitting snugly to her hips. Her green eyes flicked around the room, taking in the minimalist steel-and-glass, the view of the city outside, and finally, they landed on me and met mine with zero deference.

“Good afternoon” She greeted me with her eyes still glued to mine.

Silence. I didn't respond. None of the Langfords is worth my response to their greeting. They all deserve to die.

She didn't flinch. Didn't gulp nervously or appear impressed by the views. She just held my gaze like she was sizing up an opponent.

Interesting. She lived up to the rumors I've heard about her.

"Miss Langford" I didn't stand "Sit."

She crossed the room, her heels clicking on the marble floor and took the chair opposite my desk.

I kept studying her. No fidgeting. No nervous smile. Just confidence that brushed against my Ego. No applicant has come this far without shaking with fear.

I interviewed her for thirty minutes and she checked every question.

She really is an interesting candidate.

"You are not what I expected," she said, her voice smooth like she does talking smooth for a living.

I arched a brow "And what did you expect?"

"Someone who sends HR drones for interviews. Not the CEO himself." She said with a side smile and the room fell silent.

I swiveled my chair and let the silence stretch a little, watching her. She didn't shake, shiver, or tremble.

“I make exceptions for interesting candidates.” I slid her résumé across the desk, though I’d memorized every line. Top of her class at Columbia. Internships at places that should’ve led to offers. Instead; nothing. Daddy’s company was imploding, and no one wanted to touch a Langford right now. Or be part of their mess.

She glanced at the paper, then back at me. “So what’s the catch? The salary you posted is obscene for a personal assistant role.”

“No catch.” A lie, but a smooth one. “I need someone sharp. Discreet. Someone who can handle high-stakes environments without trembling. You checked every box.”

Her lips curved; just a fraction. Not a smile. More like she’d caught the insight of what I was up to. “And yet here you are, personally vetting me. Forgive me if I’m skeptical.”

I leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “Skepticism is useful. Blind trust gets you fired. Or worse.”

She mirrored my posture, leaning in. The space between us shrank. I caught a faint trace of her perfume—something clean, citrusy, unexpectedly addictive.

“Then let’s be clear,” she said. “What exactly would I be doing?”

“Whatever I need.” My voice dropped lower. “Scheduling. Travel. Confidential projects. Handling things no one else can know about.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And if I say no?”

“You won’t.” I let a small, cold smile slip from my lips. “The pay is seven figures annualized. Benefits. Apartment in the building if you want it. You’d be set for life after a year. Most people would kill for that.”

She studied me for a long beat and then chuckled. “Most people aren’t me.”

No. She wasn’t.

Someone who didn't flinch in my presence is not most people. She keeps replying in the same tone I'm using.

One thing is clear, she is not easily intimidated.

I stood, rounding the desk slowly. She didn’t move as I stopped beside her chair, close enough that she had to tilt her head to meet my eyes.

“Tell me, Zara...” I said her name for the first time, let it roll off my tongue cold but sharp. “...why apply here? Your father’s company is still afloat. Barely. Loyalty should keep you there.”

Her jaw tightened; just a flicker. “My father’s company isn’t hiring. And I don’t mix family and work.”

Smart girl.

I reached down and brushed a nonexistent speck of lint from her shoulder. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. Her breath hitched; barely audible.

“Then we understand each other,” I murmured. “You start Monday. HR will send the contract. Sign it. Don’t be late.”

She rose slowly, bringing us almost chest-to-chest. Up close, her eyes were even more dangerous; sharp, searching, like she could see straight through the pretense.

“I’ll read the fine print,” she said softly. “I don’t sign anything blind.”

I smiled. Genuinely this time, though she wouldn’t know why. “Good. I hate easy wins.”

She turned to leave, pausing at the door. “One more thing, Mr. Voss.”

“Declan.”

She glanced back over her shoulder. “Don’t underestimate me.”

The door clicked shut behind her.

I exhaled, staring at the empty chair, where Zara was sitting. My pulse was steady—too steady for a man who’d just set a trap.

But something else stirred. Something darker. Hungrier. Something I couldn't explain yet.

Zara Langford wasn’t just a pawn. She is a perfect bait to use in perfecting my revenge

You just wait for me Victor, I'm coming hard for you.

Zara Langford

I made it to the elevator before my knees threatened to give out.

Holy mother of hell.

Declan Voss wasn’t just rich. He was lethal. Tall, broad-shouldered, tailored suit clinging to a body that clearly spent more time in a gym than a boardroom. Dark hair, sharper jaw, eyes brimming with invisible and scary fire. Declan is cold, calculating, and way too aware of every reaction he pulled from me.

I pressed my back to the wall as the doors closed, heart hammering.

What in hell happened in there?

He’d touched my shoulder. One casual brush. And my skin still burned where his fingers had been. Gosh!

Stupid. So stupid.

This job was a lifeline; money to keep the lights on, to help Mom without begging Dad for scraps. But Declan Voss wasn’t offering charity. He was offering a deal with strings I couldn’t yet see.

I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over the contract HR had already emailed. Seven figures. An apartment.

And the devil himself is my boss.

I hit accept before I could overthink it.

Monday couldn’t come fast enough.

Or maybe it couldn’t come slow enough.

Either way, I know I was walking into the lion’s den.

And the lion had already started circling.