Chapter 19: Work Day With The Devil
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime.
Standing right outside was Marcus, Damian’s chief assistant. He opened his mouth to read the morning schedule, but froze the moment his eyes landed on the woman attached to his boss.
Damian stepped out, his hand sliding firmly around Ana’s waist. He pulled her flush against his side in a tight, unyielding grip.
"Gather the marketing team," Damian ordered flatly.
Minutes later, the entire department was lined up in the bullpen. The room went dead silent. Every eye was glued to Ana.
"Listen up," Damian declared, his deep voice echoing across the floor. "From today onward, Anastasia will be joining your team as a marketing intern. She will be working right here on the floor."
A collective murmur broke out among the staff. The employees looked at each other, their expressions instantly turning skeptical. A billionaire’s wife working as a low-level intern?
But Damian wasn’t done. His grip tightened on her waist, his eyes darkening possessively as he looked at the team leader. "Furthermore, Anastasia and I are getting back together. She is back where she belongs. You will treat her with the absolute same respect you afford me."
Total shock. The employees stood frozen, staring at their ruthless, untouchable boss publicly claiming his ex-wife.
Ana felt a wave of panic hit her. The stares were overwhelming, and she could already feel the unspoken resentment from her new "peers." Remembering his threat, she forced her trembling lips into a bright, flawless smile. She played the part perfectly, even though her insides were twisting.
She kept the fake smile plastered on her face as she scanned the crowd... until her eyes locked onto a familiar figure standing by a glass pillar in the corner.
Vivian Stark.
The sweet, innocent mask Vivian had worn the night before was completely gone. Her face was sour and twisted with pure bitterness, her eyes practically burning holes right through Ana.
"Mr. Sterling," the marketing manager, Mr. Harris, quickly stepped forward. He had a tight, eager-to-please smile plastered on his face. "Welcome back, sir. Please don’t worry about anything. I will personally assure that Ms. Anastasia is well taken care of on our floor. She won’t have to lift a finger if she doesn’t want to."
Hearing the blatant favoritism, Ana felt a pang of discomfort. She didn’t want to stand out more than she already did, especially with Vivian’s sour glare burning into her from the corner.
"Please, Mr. Harris, just treat me like any other intern," Ana spoke up, keeping her voice soft but firm. She looked at the manager, trying to soften the tension. "I already feel bad getting a position like this without going through the proper interview procedures. I want to earn my place."
Damian paused, his dark eyes shifting down to look at her. He raised a single eyebrow in sharp question, a mocking glint dancing in his gaze.
"Are you sure you can handle that, Anastasia?" He asked, his deep voice carrying a quiet, underlying challenge. He knew exactly what kind of hell a corporate bullpen could be for an outsider.
Ana looked back up at him, maintaining her flawless, bright smile despite the racing beat of her heart.
"Perfectly sure," she replied confidently. "How difficult can it be?"
Damian let out a low, humorless sound that sounded dangerously like a chuckle. He slowly released his grip on her waist, giving her one last intense, warning look before turning on his heel.
"We’ll see," he murmured flatly. Without another word, he strode toward the executive elevator, leaving her completely exposed on the marketing floor.
Damian turned on his heel and strode toward the executive elevator, leaving Ana completely exposed on the marketing floor.
Vivian watched his retreating figure, her jaw clenched in silent fury. The moment she saw him step into the private elevator bank, she broke away from the glass pillar and hurried after him, slipping into the executive hallway just before the doors closed.
"Damian!" Vivian called out, her voice sharp as she caught up to him outside his private office. "What exactly are you up to?"
Damian didn’t even pause. He walked straight to his heavy mahogany desk, throwing his briefcase down before finally turning his cold, piercing gaze toward her. He didn’t answer her question.
Instead, he leveled her with an icy look. "From now on, Vivian, you are not to come to my office or my home unannounced."
Vivian blinked, stunned. "What? Damian, we’ve been friends for..."
"I don’t care," Damian interrupted, his deep baritone cutting her off flatly. "I don’t want my wife getting the wrong idea about us."
A sharp, bitter laugh escaped Vivian’s lips. She crossed her arms, her knuckles turning white. "Your wife? Damian, look at reality. She is your ex-wife."
Damian leaned forward, resting his large palms on the desk, a dangerous, unwavering glint in his dark eyes.
"Not for long."
Vivian’s heart dropped. Panic flared behind her eyes, and she quickly shifted tactics, her expression morphing into one of deep, professional concern. "Damian, be reasonable. The board of directors will not be happy about this. You just appointed your ex-wife to the marketing department without a single interview. They are going to see this as blatant nepotism. It will hurt the company’s image."
Damian didn’t even blink. A slow, arrogant smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as he looked down at her.
"My company," he murmured, his voice dripping with absolute power. "My rules. Now leave, Vivian. I have a meeting."
Vivian’s blood turned to ice. She forced a polite nod, turned on her designer heels, and walked out of his office. The moment the heavy doors shut behind her, her face contorted into pure, unadulterated rage.
She wasn’t going to let Anastasia ruin everything she had built.
Instead of going back to her own department, Vivian detoured straight to a private conference room and dialed the marketing manager’s extension. "Mr. Harris. My office. Now."
Minutes later, a nervous Mr. Harris hurried into her office. Vivian was already sitting behind her desk, her expression perfectly calm, her posture elegant.
"You called for me, Ms. Stark?" Harris asked, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.
Vivian smiled at him sweetly... a gentle, angelic expression. But the aura radiating off her was bone-chillingly cold.
"Sit down, Harris," she murmured softly. "Let’s talk about our new intern. I want you to assign Anastasia the absolute filthiest, most grueling grunt work on your floor. Make her life a living hell."
Harris blinked in absolute shock, his face going pale. "Ms. Stark... with all due respect, I can’t do that. You heard Mr. Sterling. He publicly claimed her. I don’t want to get on the boss’s bad side. If he finds out..."
"He won’t," Vivian interrupted, her voice dropping into a dangerously smooth purr. She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto his like a predator. "Think about it, Harris. If Anastasia is treated like royalty, the rest of the staff will resent her. The board will think our CEO is abusing his power and bringing blatant favoritism into the team."
She tilted her head, her fake smile widening. "As a result, your entire marketing department will look highly unprofessional. It will get terrible reviews from upper management. And when the quarterly evaluations come... you wouldn’t want your job on the line for an intern, now would you?"
Harris swallowed hard, the veiled threat hitting him loud and clear. He was caught between a ruthless CEO and a powerfully manipulative director.
"I... I understand, Ms. Stark," Harris stammered, nodding quickly. "I’ll make sure she is tested thoroughly."
"Good," Vivian purred, her eyes gleaming with venomous satisfaction as she looked out the glass window toward the bullpen. "Let’s see how long the little princess lasts."