Page 8 of Merciless Billionaire's Savage Desire

“What fiancée? Just look at her. She doesn’t even look—”

“She’s prettier than you,” a man muttered with a shrug.

The girl shot him a cold glare, lips tightening. Ashley, who’d had a crush on Dante since he first walked into the company, felt like she'd been sucker punched. Watching the man she admired walk in with another woman by his side felt like a slap—one she didn’t see coming.

“I wonder what kind of relationship they have,” someone else muttered. “He’s never been seen alone with a woman before.”

Just then, a tall man joined the group, eyes locked on the door that had just closed behind Dante and Anya.

"That’s Mr. Kingsley’s new secretary," he informed them. "And I suggest you all stop gossiping unless you want to lose your jobs."

The earlier man nodded quickly, a tremble in his throat. “Right. He doesn’t mess around when it comes to rumors.”

“But…” a woman leaned in and whispered, “Mr. Kingsley’s never hired a female secretary before. It’s always been men. Why would he bring a woman now?”

“Maybe she’s just a temporary fill-in,” someone guessed. “Until he finds someone permanent.”

Ashley latched onto the idea like a lifeline. “Exactly,” she said with a snort. “She doesn’t even look like she knows what she’s doing. I give her a day or two—she’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

As the office buzzed back into work mode, Ashley sat down but kept watching Anya like a hawk. The girl was walking around the office, talking to different departments, asking questions, adjusting tasks on her tablet. And for some reason, everyone she spoke to was smiling. That only made Ashley's blood boil.

Ashley’s fingers clenched. The girl had a round face, big bright eyes, and a smile that made people warm up to her instantly. It made Ashley sick seeing all that fakeness.

“Is she seriously going to roam around the office all day like she owns the place?” Ashley muttered bitterly under her breath, watching the same blond guy who insulted Anya earlier now laughing with her like they were best friends.

Then, Ashley’s eyes gleamed with a plan. She stood up abruptly, marched over to her desk, and started clicking through hercomputer. She printed out a few photos, grabbed a blue file folder, stuffed the prints inside, and walked quickly toward Anya.

She found her in the corner of the floor, where there were no cameras.

“You’re the new secretary, right?” Ashley asked with a sweet, fake smile. “Mr. Kingsley asked for this file. Could you take it to his office, please?”

Anya smiled back, unsuspecting. “Sure.”

She knocked once before stepping into the CEO’s office.

Dante sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his expression grim as he looked up from his screen. His cold eyes flicked to the file in her hand as she held it out to him.

“How’s it going?” he asked, his voice deep, rough, but unexpectedly sincere. He took the file from her, then added, “Are you settling in all right?”

The question caught Anya off guard. She blinked, startled. He had been so cold to her since yesterday that she thought he hated her—like she was intruding into his life. The question didn’t match the man she met yesterday. She had assumed he didn’t want her here at all.

“I—uh—yes,” she nodded quickly, clearing her throat. “I’m still getting used to everything, but the office is nice. The work is manageable—”

She was mid-sentence when Dante flipped open the file, and she saw the sharp shift in his expression.

His eyes darkened like a brewing storm. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around the file.

“What the hell is this?” he barked, slamming the file onto the desk. His chair turned toward her sharply, his piercing eyes locked onto her face.

Anya blinked in confusion. “What...?”

Dante opened the file again, and the prints slipped out—dozens of shirtless male models spilling across his desk.

Chapter 3 Pervert Ladies

Anya's face drained of color.

“Is this how you’re doing your job?” Dante barked, slamming the file down on the desk. “Printing this kind of crap all day? This is a professional office, not some teenage magazine!”

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