Page 81 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
Either way, this couldn’t go on.
?? ?? ??
To: Simon Harlow
Subject:Immediate PA Role Reassignment Request??
Hello Simon,
Please initiate the process of transferring Ms Lucia Hart to a similar role elsewhere within the company. I trust you’ll find a suitable department aligned with her current responsibilities and skill set. She has performed adequately, and I expect the transition to be handled discreetly and with minimal disruption to workflow.
In her place, I require a new personal assistant with extensive experience—preferably a candidate aged 45 or above, male or female. Competence, discretion, and emotional resilience are non-negotiable.
Please ensure this is prioritised. I would like options on my desk by end of week.
Regards,
Laurent Dubois
Chief Executive Officer
Dubois Enterprises
I read the email over again before hitting send. Instant relief hit me, because soon she’d be someone else’s problem. I slapped the laptop closed.
The office was empty, but I chuckled to myself.
She couldn’t play her littleMiss Fuck Megames anymore.
I wasn’t a fool, and no one could play me.
Chapter 4
Lucia
The cannelloni looked and smelled beautiful—but it would put me to sleep, and I needed to stay vigilant around Dubois. The man needed a break from work… or something.
I sighed, my shoulders drooping as I drifted toward the salad bar.
My mood lifted instantly when I spotted feta cheese, cherry tomatoes, peppers, and baby spinach still available.
Ooh, chickpeas and sprouted pulses, too.
“Oh God, I found you,” Evelyn panted despite taking the elevator to the canteen. “Ooh, chickpeas. Hold on, let me get a tray.”
Evelyn was my senior manager. She oversaw all the PAs and secretaries across both executive floors. Down to earth and approachable—as long as you did your job—she always had your back. She was the reason most of the staff hadn’t run off crying into the abyss of unemployment.
I paid for my food and waited for her to join me.
“Over here,” she said, guiding me to a quiet spot in the corner.
We sat down, and I lifted my cutlery.
“What’s happened now?” I asked, already knowing this was about Laurent Dubois.
“You’re being transferred to Malik’s floor—but don’t worry, you’ll have the same role and pay as you did upstairs.”
“No way,” I said, gaping at her.
