Sara's POV

I had to sound desperate. That was the reason I was here.

Irene Peters was desperate for a job. Desperate enough to walk into Carlos Alvarez's lair. A woman clinging on the edge of survival, stupid enough to walk into a mafia's lair.

His eyes pinned me, sharp and dangerous, waiting for an answer. I could feel the weight of his gaze, like a predator savoring the tremble of prey.

It must amuse him seeing me this way. He must thrive on seeing women tremble.

And that damned wig. The fringe kept slipping into my eyes, itching my skin. I pushed the fringe aside, silently cursing my Irene Peters act.

My voice croaked, just enough to sound desperate. "I need the job."

He nodded, lips curling slightly, as though he believed me. "How desperate?"

He stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking on the floor. My heart pounded, a wild rhythm against my ribs. "What can you do? Anything?"

I nodded quickly, too quickly. He stopped.

"I don't need your qualifications. I just need one thing."

I held my breath hoping it would not be learning how to handle a gun. Or something worse.

I was just a con artist. Yes, I swindled men.

But I didn't end them. Not even their savings. I took enough to make them curse but never pursue.

"How obedient are you?"

The question formed a knot in my stomach. Maybe it was the way he asked it that made it sound sultry. Suddenly, it was like I had walked into an adult scene I hadn't rehearsed and my dominant partner was asking how obedient I could be.

"I...I can do everything office related," I emphasized.

Emphasis was necessary to avoid miscommunication.

My response brought out a laughing reaction from him that cut through the thick air between us. He stopped impromptu and grabbed my wrist, pulling me to himself. His cologne assaulted him. But it was his gaze that sent shivers down my spine.

Or maybe I was the one misreading.

"Who said anything about an office?" He quired. "Your job description is personal assistant. That means, you belong to me. You assist me."

Okay. I had stepped into the wrong den. He was already personalising me like he had given me the job and I was his possession.

My instinct screamed to bolt, to curse Thomas for dragging me into this mess. But running wasn't an option. Not with a sniper waiting at the exit.

He let go of my hand but not his gaze. "Do you understand?"

I didn't hesitate. I nodded.

I knew men like Carlos Alvarez. I always avoided them. They were always too smart, always a step ahead, and always too difficult to read.

How was I going to steal from this man?

He was watching me like he could hear my thoughts.

"This won't do," she said, gesturing at my blouse and pair of trousers. "We'll have this fixed."

Fixed?

"Am I hired?"

"You're employed. And you'll start now. Not with these rags on."

I stared at the outfit like he had insulted my favourite clothing. If only he knew what my wardrobe contained. And my recent addition, the million dollar dress Thomas had wanted me to appear in.

I curtsied slightly. "Thank you. I'll serve you in my best possible way."

Someone, that statement tasted sour in my tongue. He didn't respond. Only nodded.

"Pat will fix you," he said walking away.

Pat appeared a few minutes later. A middle aged woman who had the body of a model. She smiled warmly when she saw me.

"Congratulations," she said, her voice syrupy. "It's a privilege to work for Mr. Alvarez. He's always considerate towards his staff."

It sounded automated. Like I was listening to a broken record.

She could do better to convince me.

But I was Irene Peters. And she was terribly gullible or good at looking so.

I smiled. "I'm lucky to have been chosen."

She coughed to hide a sneer I already caught.

"Aren't you sweetheart. Now, we have to do something about these clothes. You're the face of Mr. Alvarez and you need to appear striking at all times."

"But-"

"Oh, shush dear. I'm here to handle that. Follow me."

Her heels clacked against the marble as she disappeared from the hall. I stood, contemplating on whether to follow or take the opposite direction.

But the opposite direction had a snipper waiting for me.

So, I followed her.

The hall led to an exit, strangely. And right outside was a sleek, black limo waiting. She walked into it and I stood there, gawking.

"Come in," she beckoned, chuckling. "It's courtesy of the boss."

Was this Carlos' way of keeping his staff quiet? Dangling luxury like bait.

The limo was a dream. Soft, plush leather chairs, chilled champagne, air conditioning that felt like a caress. The true Evelyn Rodriguez lifestyle. For a while, I almost forgot I was Irene Peters.

I had crossed my legs and sank into the cushion. But when I brought the flute to my face and caught my reflection - stubborn wig and a face bereft of make-up - I uncrossed them and sat straight.

It was easy to get distracted in a vehicle this good. But it was dangerous.

As the ride started, Pat started her coaching.

"Mr. Alvarez is a simple man," she started. "All he needs is your honesty."

Well, too bad I sold that for a diamond necklace.

But I smiled shyly and nodded like I was the most honest thing on the planet.

"Obey his orders. Everything he asks...and you'll enjoy your job."

She winked at me, subtly trying to pass a message I didn't want to understand.

"You're young," she continued, oblivious to my growing irritation. "With good clothes you'll fit in perfectly. Who knows what the future might hold for you."

The only future I knew had my twins in a mansion, far away from this madding crowd. No Thomas. No Carlos.

"If I was younger," she continued, despite my irritation. "I would have had a kid for him. It pays a lot."

Was she hired to test my patience? Because she was succeeding at it.

The last thing I needed was a complicated relationship. I didn't even want a relationship. Just a lot of money, enough to find my Evelyn Rodriguez dream.

The limo pulled to a stop and when we stepped out, the towering elegance of Elysian Court stood before us. I gasped softly.

Pat, who was beside me, chuckled. "I told you, didn't I?"

Told me what?! Were we here to shop for him? Or maybe a fiancé since Elysian Court was a female luxurious boutique. One I had been to a thousand times in my head.

"Who's shopping?" I asked for clarity.

But she laughed heartily and stared at me. "You. You have ten free picks."

I blinked unbelievably. Me? Sara Anderson given a blank ticket? I didn't care about Irene's style right now. All I knew was, I couldn't let a good moment go to waste.

Irene Peters could come later.

Sara's POV

Who didn't know Elysia's court?

I had been here twice under different aliases and I had walked with an air of confidence like I owned the place. Well, back then, I had Frank Tower's credit card.

But now, I scruffled behind Pat, fighting to keep my act, while my eyes roamed around the room already looking for the perfect ten outfits from the lines of rack that held nothing but the best

I have been here before so I knew exactly where I was going.

Pat was speaking to the sales manager when I walked to the exclusive lounge. I knew I shouldn't be doing it. But I couldn't help it. A con artist never refuses an opportunity. Not one that came with this packaging.

Carlos, with all his menace, might just be a cloud with a silver lining.

A black gown caught my attention, its fabric shimmering like midnight. Beside it was the price tag. That was not my problem.

I never check.

I plucked it from the hanger, draping it over my body, imagining how it would hug my curves.

"No...no," the sales manager said the moment she saw me, her voice cutting through my reverie. She rushed towards me with Pat standing and gawking incredulously. "You can't touch that."

I tightened my grip on the how, flaring with a deviance that didn't suit Irene.. "Why?" I demanded.

I didn't need to be timid before Pat. Only Carlos Alvarez deserved that.

"I have been given a blank cheque to get whatever I want." I thrust the gown towards her. "You think I am not worth it?"

I unclasped it before she could say anything and the gown fell on the ground. It hit the floor with a soft thud.

A thousand dollars sound..

Two shrieks echoed. Pat's gasp and the manager's cry. The sales manager rushed to retrieve the gown but I stepped on it, ripping it.

"Irene!" Pat's voice was sharp, her eyes wide with horror.

"What have you done?!" the manager wailed, clutching the ruined dress.

I faced Pat who was watching the scene, teary eyes and beyond appalled.

"You said it, didn't you?" I snapped at her. "I'm the face of Carlos Alvarez. How dare she treat me this way?"

She shook her head with trembling voice. "That dress is worth thousands of dollars, Irene. You can't abuse the boss's generosity."

That was why she was stuck in a mini skirt and an automated voice at her age because of her lack of ambition, thinking Carlos was doing the best for her.

Blah blah blah...

I would have made enough money to own a private yacht if I had been her.

I rolled my eyes and pointed at the gown that was now resting on the sales manager's hand as she talked to security on the phone.

"That doesn't count," I said, unfazed. "I'll begin my picking if you don't mind."

I saw her face turn pale. Had she thought I was some saint? For someone who worked for Carlos Alvarez, she should be accustomed to cruelty.

Why pretend?

I moved to the cloth rack and was reaching for another dress when I heard a male voice.

"Ma'am," it said.

I ignored it. That was surely the security man she was calling.

But when I felt his hand against my back, I became enraged.

"How dare you?!" I demanded, seething.

Evelyn was dying to come to the surface. I wanted so badly to tell them off about how I was a billionaire disguised in poor clothing and...

Stick to the plot, Sara. Please.

This was going to be too hard.

"I did nothing wrong," I added, my voice dropping. The police man who had been taken aback by my outburst suddenly grew courage.

""You were reported for damaging a dress." he said.

I scoffed. "That's not what happened -"

"I'm sorry ma'am. But you'll have to leave."

Who would believe a lady in faded jeans?

I bit my lips and stared at him defiantly. "I'll be back."

The ride back to Alvarez's estate was quiet. Pat kept stealing glances at me with palpable judgement. She must have misjudged me initially

They always did.

Well, at least, I wouldn't be getting any more advice from her.

But as soon as we arrived, her mouth became a running faucet without control as she spilled everything to Carlos Alvarez. She was in the next room. But I could hear everything from the hall.

"...made a mess of a dress worth hundreds of dollars. We're lucky that they aren't demanding payment."

I heard fist slapping a desk and my heart lurched.

Okay.

Maybe I had gone way too far.

Did I forget that I was working for Carlos Alvarez? The Carlos Alvarez that had a snipper trained on me as I walked into his domain?

My throat suddenly became dry and I strained my ears to hear what he wanted to say.

Anything.

But nothing.

Then I heard his voice. Calm but angry. He was on a call. I didn't have the courage to move closer to the office to hear what he was saying. My heart was racing. Today could as well be my last day alive.

And my twins? Who would take care of them?

I bit my lips to stop the tears and my hands from trembling

Calm down, Sara. You've got this.

But I've got nothing but trouble. A very big trouble at that.

I had secured a job I didn't want and somehow found a way to provoke my boss a few hours later. And not just any boss.

Carlos Alvarez.

I reached for my phone. Maybe I should let Sean know that I wasn't returning back and he had to swear to me that he would take care of my twins and keep them away from their father.

Or maybe, it would be best if he knew. He would take care of them. But he had to promise. No step mother.

How the hell was I going to arrange all that right now? Thomas Grey didn't even know I had twins for him.

My life is pretty messed up, I know.

I fumbled for my phone, trying to find Sean's contact. Where the hell was it?

I stopped.

Take a deep breath, Sara.

Carlos was still on the call and I had no idea if it was a call for my execution. But I had time. Time to arrange for my departure.

I inhaled and exhaled deeply.

My eyes flew to the phone screen and I found his name. I had forgotten I hadn't saved his name as Sean in my state of anxiety.

My relationship with Sean - it was difficult to define. But right now, he identified as my babe.

I was about to hit call when footsteps echoed from the office. Heavy, deliberate. Carlos was coming for me.

Carlos' POV

I was mad. Raving mad.

How dare she?

I slammed the phone against its cradle, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot, and stormed out of the office.

She flinched when she saw me. Irene Peters..

I knew she was fiery when I saw her. It was always easy to identify them.

But right now, whatever fire she had shown at Elysian Court had vanished, and she was back to the cowardly lady who had begged for a job.

I tightened my lips and closed the distance between us. She stood up as I neared her.

"I can explain," she offered.

I stopped. "Begin."

I saw her fidgeting with her fingers and searching for the right words.

"The lady treated me like trash just because I was dressed in faded jeans. I didn't mean to tear the dress. I stepped on it accidentally as she tried to pick it from the floor."

I could tell that she was lying.

She was perfect.

Perfect for me.

Irene Peters could keep a straight face and lie. She was a performer.

"I know I shouldn't have -"

I raised my hand, stopping her mid sentence. Then I stepped closer, close enough to catch the faint floral notes of her cheap cologne. It was maddening, how it drew me in, made me want to lean closer, and smell her every time.

"I told you to get ten free dresses," I started. "Where are they?"

She was visibly shaking. The way her eyes danced whenever I was up close to her was amusing. Whoever she was, she was an enigma.

And she had caught my attention in a way few ever did.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I caused a scene, and they threw me out."

"Threw you out?" My voice sharpened, anger flaring anew. "Did they know I was your sponsor?"

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor.

I grabbed her wrist and she let out a gasp in the quiet. "How could you? How could you let them ridicule you? A ridicule to you is like a ridicule to me. How could you let that happen?"

Her eyes danced with fear, and I relished it. Fear was power, and I wielded it like a blade. I tugged her toward the exit, her steps stumbling behind me.

She sat like a cornered animal in the limo, barely breathing. When the vehicle started, I placed a hand on her thigh.

She flinched.

My plan had been to calm her down but I had succeeded in frightening her more.

I took my hand off her body and reached for a flute, pouring chilled champagne, with deliberate calm and expertise, into it. I stretched the full cup towards her.

"For you."

She stared at the flute with a longing her eyes couldn't hide. But she shook her head.

"I couldn't."

"I insist."

She accepted the cup, her fingers brushing mine, took a sip, and dropped it while I watched her, a smile forming from the corner of my mouth. Then she set the flute down too quickly, as if afraid to indulge.

"Who do you think I'm angry at?" I asked her, leaning back. "You or the sales manager?"

She croaked her reply. "Me."

I folded my arms. "Why?"

"I made a mess of your reputation."

I straightened, now serious. "She made a mess of my reputation," I corrected.

The limo came to a stop outside Elysian Court and I stepped out, holding the door for her. But she took the other door, avoiding me. When she rounded the car, I grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

"Never leave me hanging when I open a door for you. Understood?"

She nodded frighteningly and I released her wrist with a shove. The last thing she wanted was to get me mad. I was already livid enough to shut Elysian Court for good.

No one had the audacity to challenge me.

The moment I stepped into the corridors of Elysian Court, whispers flew around and feet scurried away like roaches under a spotlight. My security details fanned behind me and stopped right in front of the entrance.

Irene was walking behind me, back to her frightened state.

Maybe it was better that way. My attempt to ease her in the limo had been a mistake. She had mistaken it for weakness.

The double doors of the building parted automatically and I stepped in and the store manager appeared, her face paling at my sight.

"M-Mr. Alvarez," the store manager stuttered.

I was in no mood to talk. One raise of my hand and one of my men appeared.

"A disrespect to my staff is a disrespect to me," I said, blowing hot. "This will be your last day as manager of this store. I need you to submit your resignation letter before the end of today to your boss."

She nodded without hesitation. My handyman appeared beside her.

"He'll escort you out...after you've rendered your last service. " I turned to face Irene, who was hiding a smirk. "...to my personal assistant."

"Right away, ma'am," she said, genuflecting, while I nested on one of the couches.

Irene vanished with the trembling woman and I focused on the bottle of Merlot sitting beside me. It was taking forever but when Irene stepped out in one of the dresses she had picked, she took my breath away. For a few seconds, all I did was gawk, flute midway towards my mouth.

It was more than the dress. It was the confidence she carried, the spark in her eyes. The defiance. The one I had sensed earlier, now blazing openly, with every step she took towards me. She had completely transformed from a drab nobody to someone who could capture my attention.

And she was still on that unconditioned hair.

I set my flute down and stood up, completely drawn by her presence. Now I saw her eyes, saw the sparks they carried, and even saw the defiance.

"You look...ravishing," I said.

She bowed meekly, her voice soft. "Thank you, Mr. Alvarez."

"Carlos," I responded without hesitation.

No woman had unraveled me like this in years. What was it about her? She was beneath my world, a nobody in faded jeans, yet she held my attention like a hypnotist.

"Carlos," she repeated, half smiling. "It seems you like this," she continued. "Then you'll like the rest I've bought."

Certainly. It looked like she had a good taste but was too poor to afford them.

"Leave this on," I told her, glancing at the time strapped to my wrist. "We have to go now."

I was expecting some shipment and I had to prepare for their arrival.

She nodded and walked to my side. I caught the reflection of the two of us, standing beside each other, from a show glass, her elegance matching my power.

We were like a match made in heaven.

Only that men like me didn't have soulmates. We didn't have a heart. Only control.

So I took my eyes off the reflection and started towards the exit. When we got to the car, she asked. "When will I be returning home today?"

A frown appeared on my face before I spoke. "Never. You'll live with me now."