Chapter 4: Lend Me Your Assistant

Prisley felt a chill run down her spine as she walked out, her back stiff and her movements robotic.

As soon as the door closed behind her, the sound of breaking glass echoed from the office, making her heart skip a beat. She frowned, knowing that Heather had exploded in anger.

Prisley walked over to the Secretariat and spoke to Lisa, a secretary. "Lisa, let everyone know not to enter the president's office for the next twenty minutes."

Lisa's eyes widened in surprise. "Is the president mad again?"

Prisley nodded. "Notify the janitorial staff to be ready." With that, she went back to her own office.

Heather's temper was unpredictable; sometimes, he would fly into a rage for no apparent reason. Prisley was the only one who could calm him down.

No matter how angry Heather got, a few gentle words from Prisley would restore his peace. This earned Prisley the nickname "Firefighter" among her colleagues.

But this time, she was the cause of the fire.

Back at her desk, Prisley hid her face behind a folder and let the tears flow. It was her way of venting when she felt wronged. It was her only outlet. She never showed her vulnerability to the outside world.

Today, she cried longer than usual. After a while, she wiped away her tears away, went to the bathroom to wash her face, and touched up her makeup.

There was still a lingering scent of intimacy on the bed of the cubicle. The thought of the pleasure she had shared with Heather a few moments ago now turned into a confrontation, and more tears welled in her eyes.

"Heather, I love you, but I can't accept this kind of relationship," she said to herself sadly.

Heather smashed a glass cabinet with a crystal desk ornament, scattering his beloved collection all over the floor. How dare she defy him? Money and property couldn't buy her a smile, yet she insisted on leaving?

She used to be so obedient, so easily satisfied... Irritated, he swept everything off his desk, and forcefully loosened his tie.

After a moment, Heather chuckled to himself. "What's the big deal? She was just a pet in my hands. A tantrum now and then was kind of cute.”

He'd buy her a present later to make her happy again.

Figuring it was time, Prisley gathered a stack of documents to take to the president's office. As she reached the door, she heard loud laughter from inside. It was Heather and Steve, another vice president of the company.

Steve joked, "Heather, now that Filla is back, why not give me your assistant?"

Heather laughed, "Steve, don't forget, I've never liked sharing my toys with you since I was a kid."

"With so many beautiful women in the company, you just throw money at whoever catches your eye. Once you throw more than enough, they'll crawl obediently into your bed."

"Did you do the same to her?"

"Pretty much, didn't hold back on the spending."

The frivolous laughter filled the office.

Steve and Heather had been childhood friends, practically inseparable.

Hearing herself being openly discussed like that made Prisley feel exposed and embarrassed, as if she had been stripped naked and put on display.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The frivolous laughter inside stopped abruptly.

"President Rynn, there are some less urgent documents that need your review. Regarding Warner Tech, I wonder if you have a moment to hear my report?"

Prisley's fingertips felt cold as she handed over the files. She felt burning eyes on her back, scanning her like an X-ray machine.

Heather's earlier cheerfulness faded as he coldly replied, "Go ahead, Steven's no stranger."

Prisley handed the documents to Heather and Steve, then began her presentation.

"The downsizing plan proposed by Warner Tech's HR director is not feasible," Prisley declared, meeting Heather and Steve's gaze.

Heather and Steve exchanged looks. "Warner's software and product solutions are quite mature. While there may be some redundancy in non-production areas, I believe we should increase our investment in R&D rather than follow the HR Director's suggestion."

"I have investigated our competitors' R&D investments and market prospects. The data is all in the report. If we play it safe, we could face a crisis in less than two years."

"I have outlined the costs and expenses of both plans for comparison. Now, it's up to you to decide."

With that, Prisley looked at the two in front of her. Heather studied the report, while Steve's look changed from frivolous to approving.

"You're not afraid of offending Warner Tech's HR director? He's on David's side." Steve teased.

Prisley smiled contemptuously. "I can always be fired," she replied, giving Heather a meaningful look before turning to leave.

"Hey, Prisley, wait," Steve called after her, his eyes still somewhat intoxicated from their conversation. He looked at Heather. "I’ve got a cocktail party tonight, and I need someone to go with me. Can I borrow your assis...?"

"No," Heather cut him off, cold and determined.

"Come on, Heather, don't be so stingy. It's an important event tonight, with some big names in attendance. I'm doing it for the company, you know I don't have a suitable date for such an occasion," Steve pleaded.

Prisley knew Steve was never short of company, but finding someone to accompany him to a high-end business cocktail party might be a challenge indeed.

After a few seconds of consideration, Heather relented. "Fine, but you pay her overtime," he said, his displeasure evident.

Steve whistled happily. "Great, Prisley, I'll pick you up after work."

Prisley replied with a professional smile before leaving. Overtime pay, these rich dandies knew how to make fun of others.

Before leaving work, Prisley changed into her evening gown, accessorized with jewelry, and applied light makeup before heading to Heather's office.

During working hours, Prisley always dressed in standard administrative attire, opting for knee-length pencil skirts and never deliberately displaying her beauty or sensuality.

Her daily wardrobe consisted mostly of loose-fitting dresses. Only on formal occasions did she wear form-fitting gowns that accentuated her graceful curves.

As Heather looked at her low-cut dress and the sparkling diamond necklace adorning her neckline, his expression darkened. He absentmindedly wrapped his arm around Prisley's waist, taking a moment before speaking in a subdued tone, "Go change into another dress."

"Why? I've worn this dress before," Prisley asked.

"You're going with Steve tonight," Heather replied, his tone tinged with impatience and firmness.

"What's the difference?"

"Of course there is a difference." He sounded slightly impatient, his tone becoming more forceful. Prisley could only return to her office and change into a different dress.

Despite being the CEO of a large conglomerate, Heather struggled privately with feelings of insecurity. He had undergone rigorous training since childhood, immersing himself in business analysis while others played with toys.

His mother had left after a divorce early in his life, and his stepmother, Steve's biological mother, showed him only superficial kindness.

His father, the man who had subjected him to grueling training since childhood, suffered a sudden heart attack and passed away five years ago, leaving behind a vast empire for the young Heather to inherit.

He always concealed his fragile heart behind a tough exterior, never revealing his true self. It wasn't until he met Prisley that he experienced true warmth and allowed occasional glimpses of vulnerability.

The thought of Prisley's beautiful body, which belonged to him, being embraced by Steve the playboy, annoyed him.

However, he couldn't risk an unpleasant confrontation with Steve over such a matter, so he asked Prisley to change into something less revealing.

Prisley reluctantly returned to her office and changed into a dress that didn't show off her figure as much.

"How about this" Prisley asked when she returned.

Heather looked her for several seconds before saying solemnly, "Prisley, you don't have to go tonight."