Chapter 1

FIDELIA

“Do it. Again. Miss Mills.” Vincent's email screamed at me, and I visibly backed away, eyes wide, blood boiling, and nerves high as fuck.

Damn that man.

Since I took this virtual assistant job three months ago at Hamilton Corp, working directly under the CEO, Vincent Hamilton, I’ve been considering hiring an assassin.

He was the most arrogant, strictest, unimpressed, and self-conceited ass of the century.

My boss, yes.

But I wonder the length I’d go to kick him off a building and spit on him.

If only he weren't a beautiful, eight-pack, gorgeous gray-eyed stud.

If only he didn’t look like a hot, nonchalant gangster that just crawled out of GQ magazine, maybe I’d be less mad.

“Lia.” My mom’s voice sounded from the bedroom next to my office partition, and I stiffened up.

Her voice sounded frail and cracked, but she said my name.

After six months of her dementia condition deteriorating, she said my name.

I hurried to her, taking the space next to her on the bed.

She looked up at me and smiled.

"Nurse, where’s Liam, my little baby?” She asked, and my heart dropped to my stomach.

Oh. I was mistaken.

She didn’t remember me. She meant Liam.

My younger brother was lost during childbirth due to complications.

Complications my dad caused.

Fighting back threatening tears, I plopped her against a pillow, and she winced as she sat up.

She’d been lying down for so long.

“Have you seen where they took my baby?” She asked again, the wrinkled skin around her baggy eyes shining at me with eagerness.

I didn’t say anything.

I just stroked her gray hair gently and soothingly with a small smile, like she was an infant, and she leaned into my arms.

Deep down I wanted to tell her to go to sleep.

I needed to work and make a lot of money so I’d continue her treatment and possibly take the next big step to improve her health. Even just a little bit.

She'd been sleeping for too long. Bedridden. Always spacing out. Her eyes were growing emptier by the day.

Most times I got tempted to give up.

But I couldn't shake off that one percent probability that she'd get better.

Shutting my eyes, I kissed her forehead and gently placed her head on the pillow because she had fallen asleep.

Then I returned to my office more burdened than before I left.

I didn’t have time to recover when my laptop buzzed with an angry Zoom call.

I peered at the screen, and my eyes widened.

Shit. Vincent was calling.

Not just a call. A shitty zoom call.

What was it again? Did I miss any details in the proposal I submitted, or did I position the graphs the wrong way again?

Maybe I ordered the wrong coffee.

Jesus, he was calling on Zoom because of that.

How petty.

I picked up the call, and as usual, I disabled my camera.

“Hello, sir. How may I be of help to you?”

“Think about it this way. How efficient can you be when you always restrict your camera in video meetings?"

I ruffled my hair in frustration, hating that he was bringing it up for the umpteenth time in two days.

“Through organizing your emails, managing your calendar, communicating with your clients, booking your flights, and scheduling business meetings. That's the exact description of my job, sir, which unfortunately doesn’t include video calls.” I explained, eager to punch the end button and scream out loud.

“Well, the exact description of your job has already been refined."

“By who, please?"

“By me. And you’re unfortunately at the verge of kissing that so called job goodbye if you don’t appear for our annual conference meeting. Physically, Miss Mills.”

My heart stopped. No.

He'd been persistent about convincing me to take his video calls over the past few weeks.

But I’d never expected him to put my job at stake just to force me to comply.

“May I remind you, sir, that the 'virtual' in 'virtual assistant' is very much relevant. It’s not a filler word.”

“And let me refresh your memory that part of your pledge to be a so-called honorable staff member of this company is to build trust and not hinder any measures taken to achieve that.”

“Refusing to reveal your physical identity and working like a ghost behind the screen is not really giving the impression of trust. Is it Miss Mills?”

I swallowed hard, pressing my thumb against my collarbone in panic.

No, I couldn’t do it. Show my face.

“So what is it going to be if I don’t accept?”

“You get a warning and lose your job. I’m sure you’re smarter than that. Are you not?” The way he asked, like he was rubbing it in my face that I had no choice.

And yes, I was smarter than this.

I wouldn’t lose my job over some trivial reason like being stubborn about remaining anonymous.

Only that it wasn’t trivial because I wasn’t the woman Vincent thought I was.

The smart, intelligent, brilliant, and reliable Fidelia Mills.

I was Fun Size, the curvy, naughty, and kinky OnlyFans entertainer whom Vincent had subscribed to her channel with thousands of dollars five years ago.

I had come hundreds of times, finger-fucking myself in front of him while he jerked off from behind the screen.