Page 82 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
“Non-exec, but a director. Monica Lozano.”
“With the same pay?” I asked, unable to believe my luck.
“Yup.”
Less work. Same money. No weird vibes.
This was a win.
My mind lingered on the cold, handsome CEO.
Yeah—not worth it.
“Do you know when I start with Monica?”
“Monday afternoon. You just need to do a handover with your replacement.”
“And you’re on the same floor,” I said, grinning before I chuckled. “I’m moving down in the world.”
“You sure are. We’re the fun crowd.”
It wouldn’t be hard, given where I was coming from.
“Do you know why I’m being transferred?” I asked casually, stabbing a juicy tomato before scooping up some crumbly feta with my fork.
“I thought you’d never ask. Rumour has it he requested his next PA be much older,” she said, giving me a sly look. “Anything you want to tell me?”
“Holy shi—no. Absolutely not. He couldn’t stand me,” I said, genuinely confused. “Well… I thought he did…”
Evelyn’s razor-sharp gaze locked on mine, analysing every twitch of my face.
I shook my head. “You’ve got bad intel. The man never said or did anything inappropriate, and I definitely never flirted with him. I need a job,” I said, leaning in with a whisper. “Not a dick.”
“Damn it. I wanted to know about his dick,” she said, looking properly downtrodden as she lowered her fork.
This was why I loved Evelyn. She had zero filter when she wasn’t in manager mode.
?? ?? ??
When I returned to my desk, I redirected the calls back to my phone and sat down to dissect the emails already vying for my attention.
One glared at me.
Laurent Dubois
Subject:Come see me when you’re back from lunch.
Of course.
I smoothed my blouse, lifted my chin, and grabbed my tablet. No hesitation. He could throw what he liked at me—I could take it.
I knocked once, then pushed the door open without waiting.
He wore his navy suit today. Not just any suit—custom tailored. The kind that whispered money and power with every precise stitch. The man filled it out better than any model, all broad shoulders and long limbs. His dark eyes snapped up, and he raked a hand through his thick hair. Even that was annoyingly perfect—just enough dishevelled to make him look human. The beard was neat, but didn’t soften the sharpness of his jaw.
It just made him look… darker.
Dangerous.
