Chapter 50
The woman's voice was low, laced with a poorly concealed disdain when I asked her.
I looked her directly in the eye, my own tone unapologetically blunt. "You look like just another employee. What kind of deal could you possibly offer?"
Her proposition was so over-the-top that I almost suspected it was a joke.
After all, the truly unscrupulous people I had known were never so quick to reveal their hand.
Still, I couldn't rule out the possibility that this was a deliberate test, so I held my tongue and waited, my patience worn thin, for her to elaborate.
She cleared her throat and asked, "You need money, don't you?"
"Who doesn't? But you'll have to convince me you're not wasting my time."
She leaned in conspiratorially. "Come with me now. I'll take you somewhere."
"Where?" My guard went up instantly.
Instead of answering, she seized my arm, her grip surprisingly firm, and began pulling me toward the elevator. For a fleeting moment, I regretted engaging with her at all, but she held tight, showing no intention of letting go.
I hesitated for only a few seconds before deciding to follow.
Though her hostility was palpable, this was still the corporate office, a building under the constant watch of security cameras. It seemed unlikely that anything truly dangerous could happen.
The elevator descended two floors. She led me into an office, shutting the door immediately behind us with a decisive click.
"Sir, I brought her."
My gaze shifted to the figure behind the desk, his back turned to us. There was something vaguely familiar about his silhouette. When he swiveled his chair around, a thoroughly unremarkable face registered with shock.
"What are you doing here?" He exclaimed.
The woman who had brought me was just as surprised. "You know her?"
As his astonished stare lingered on me, my own memory clicked into place. Back when I was representing the Smith Group, I had attended countless galas and functions, meeting a wide array of people. This middle-aged manager was one of them, a face from a forgotten cocktail party. I recalled how he had stubbornly refused to name his company but had vaguely hinted at a potential partnership. To think he was a department manager here, at the Windsor Group, of all places.
I began, unafraid as I walked past him and settled into the chair opposite his desk, "is the Windsor family some kind of shady organization you should be ashamed of? Why were you so secretive back then?"
He blinked, momentarily thrown, before his brow furrowed. "Shouldn't you be at the Smith Group? Why would Mr. Windsor bring you here? And to that position, of all things?"
"Which position? It's just an assistant's job. Is there a problem?"
The female employee, as if just now processing the situation, stepped closer to me, her voice rising. "Of course, there's a problem! Mr. Windsor is famously the city's most eligible bachelor, completely uninterested in women. For him to suddenly bring a woman into the company, let alone place her in his own office as his assistant—it's highly suspicious, to say the least."
I watched the almost worshipful gleam in her eyes and felt the corner of my mouth twitch in amusement. "So, what was this deal you mentioned?"
It was clear now. These two were hardly the formidable adversaries Alexander had warned me about. My defenses lowered completely.
"What exactly is your relationship with Mr. Windsor?" The manager demanded, his face hardening as he seemed to accept my new role. "If I recall correctly, you're Mr. Smith's fiancée, are you not?"
At the mention of my past engagement, his mind clearly connected to the recent storm of negative press surrounding the Smith Group, and his frown deepened.
"Your engagement to Mr. Smith was called off, so now you've decided to latch onto our Mr. Windsor?"
His logic was so bafflingly convoluted that for a moment, I didn't even know where to begin my rebuttal.
"Let me be frank with you," he continued, his tone condescending. "I was placed here by Mr. Windsor's elders to keep an eye on him. Not just any woman can get close to him."
And just like that, everything fell into place. "So the deal you were talking about, don't tell me it was to offer me a sum of money to leave him?"
The female colleague looked away, a flicker of embarrassment crossing her face as if she, too, recognized the absurdity of the cliché. She still gave a slight nod.
"We were sent to protect Mr. Windsor," she added in a small voice.
My mouth twitched again, but a more serious question began to form.
As far as I knew, Alexander's parents had died in an accident long ago, and his grandparents were also gone. Elders who could command Alexander? Who could that possibly be?
"Shouldn't that be Alexander's decision to make? Who else has the authority to interfere in his life?" I asked directly.
"Mr. Windsor's uncle, of course. Carter Windsor," the woman answered, her expression filled with a misplaced pride. "Mr. Carter Windsor may not work at the headquarters, but he has always been deeply concerned for his nephew. He specifically assigned the manager and me to keep watch. We've already driven away several other women who had designs on Mr. Windsor."
I knew little about this Carter, but I seized on the keywords. "He's not at headquarters, yet he has you stationed here as guards? Are they that close?"
It sounded less like concern and more like surveillance. And judging by the simple-mindedness of the two people in front of me, they were likely being used as pawns without even realizing it.
"Of course they're close. He's the closest relative Mr. Windsor has."
I remained skeptical. Glancing at the time, I waved a dismissive hand at her. "You don't need to worry. My relationship with Mr. Windsor is not what you think. I only want to be a capable assistant who can be of genuine help to him."
Recalling the file Charles had given me, I was anxious to get back and review it, so I prepared to leave.
The two of them exchanged a look, silently weighing the truth of my words.
"You can't go yet," the woman said, blocking my path. "How do we know you're telling the truth? What if you really do have ulterior motives concerning Mr. Windsor?"
I stared at the person obstructing my way, my patience finally exhausted. "Alright, fine. And what if I do? What if I have every intention of making a move on Mr. Windsor?"
The words had barely left my lips when the office door was suddenly pushed open.
Alexander stood in the doorway, his deep-set eyes fixed on me, a flicker of displeasure in their depths. "What are you doing in here?"
A fine sheen of sweat dotted his brow, as if he had been walking quickly.
For a moment, I was at a loss for words. I could hardly tell him I'd been dragged here under suspicion of having designs on him.
The manager and the woman shot to their feet, their faces paling in panic, suddenly rendered speechless by his presence.
Seeing their cowardly reaction, I felt a wave of reassurance. Even if they were being manipulated, they lacked the courage to cause any real trouble.
"I got lost," I improvised, stepping to his side and gesturing with a professional air. "Mr. Windsor, were you looking for me?"
As his assistant, I felt it was my duty to maintain a professional demeanor at all times.
We walked side by side down the corridor, but I could feel his searing gaze still locked on me.
"What did you say back there?" He asked abruptly, his voice low. "Something about having every intention of making a move on me?"
My body went rigid, and my hands clenched into fists at my sides.
He had heard everything. I had hoped he would dismiss it as trivial nonsense, but now he had brought it up himself, leaving me no room to feign ignorance.