WebNovels

Chapter 8 - The Set Up

The next morning at the office, Oska resumed his role as Stevanie's personal assistant. He and his boss were seated at her desk when a knock echoed through the room.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"I'll get it," Oska said, rising from his chair.

He opened the door to find a young woman standing there, elegantly dressed, her posture composed, a pair of round glasses framing her intelligent eyes.

"Good morning, Mr. Oska."

"Jennie. It's been a while."

From behind him came Stevanie's sharp voice.

"Who's that?"

Oska stepped aside. "Allow me to introduce Jennie Lei Shan. I brought her in to replace me as your personal assistant."

"I don't recall asking for a new assistant."

"Wouldn't it be better to have someone more… professional handle such an important position?"

Stevanie studied Jennie from head to toe, her expression unreadable. Then she turned coldly toward Oska.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Please give us a moment." She shut the door and dragged Oska deeper into her office.

"What's gotten into you?" she hissed. "Why would you bring me a replacement out of nowhere?"

"I've told you before, I'm not suited for this job," Oska replied calmly. "I make mistakes, easy to forget things. You remember what happened three months ago when I mixed up your meeting schedule with an investor's? I might cause more damage if I stay."

"I don't care." Stevanie's voice was laced with venom. "Do you think I hired you because I needed a good assistant? No. I needed someone I could vent my frustration on. If my employees do everything right, who would I blame when I'm angry? You're not here to help me—you're here to absorb my rage. You're my perfect punching bag."

Oska's lips curled faintly. "That makes no sense. Why don't you just hire a clown?"

"Because clowns don't cry when I whip them," she said with a smirk. "You do. Just like you did on our first night."

Oska's expression hardened. Her madness had deepened—perhaps beyond repair. And yet, a dark part of him wondered if he could use it to his advantage.

"So, you still want me to be your assistant?"

Stevanie nodded, her eyes wide, almost childlike. Oska sighed.

"Fine. But on one condition."

"What is it?"

"If Jennie can't be your assistant, then let her be mine."

"What?" she snapped. "Assistants don't get assistants."

"Relax. Jennie will only be there to make sure I don't make mistakes that might hurt you. You'll still get your chance to scold me if I do."

"I'm not paying her salary."

"Don't worry about that. I'll handle it. Just pretend she doesn't exist."

Stevanie pursed her lips, thinking it over. "Hmm… fine. But she's your responsibility."

"Thanks Ma'am."

Stevanie slammed the desk out of blue. "I told you do not call me Ma'am anymore. I really don't like when people keep calling me like that."

"Forgive my curiosity, but why? Aren't you a married woman, even before we met? You have Annchi though."

"You're wrong. I've never been married before, and Annchi isn't my biological child."

"Huh?" Said Oska with stupid face. But it seemed the wife no longer wanted to exchange words with him. Oska just scratched his head, which wasn't itchy, and opened the door.

And so, Jennie Lei Shan became Oska's assistant, while Oska remained the assistant to his psychotic wife. Stevanie despised the arrangement, her jealousy thinly veiled every time Jennie stepped into the office.

Despite that, Jennie proved her worth almost instantly. She meticulously organized every detail of Stevanie's packed schedule—meetings, calls, events—all done with flawless precision. Her efficiency was unmatched.

It didn't take long before Stevanie noticed.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Oska asked when he caught her watching him and Jennie.

"I'm suspicious of you," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You've changed. You're not the same man I met three months ago."

Oska leaned back slightly, smirking. "Do you want to know about my past? Or have you finally decided to see me as more than your slave?"

Stevanie rolled her eyes, uninterested, which only amused Oska further.

"You looked so annoyed," he teased. "Think of me as someone who met a great man—one who changed my life."

"Is he rich?" she asked flatly.

"Incredibly rich. The kind of wealth you can't even measure."

That caught her attention. "Really? Can I meet him?"

"Why?"

"Maybe he could change my life too—make me richer than I already am."

"Still not satisfied with what you have, huh?" Oska asked.

"What can I say? Money is the second thing I love. The more, the better. There's no such thing as enough."

Oska's smile faded. "Unfortunately for you, the man I'm talking about is dead. He left his fortune to me. That's where all my money comes from."

Jennie, standing nearby, gave him a quick, puzzled glance. The story wasn't true, and Oska knew she could tell. He subtly shook his head, warning her to stay silent.

"So, you're rich now?" Stevanie said, her voice laced with intrigue.

"I wouldn't say rich. Just… enough."

"Then why did you come back to me? With all your wealth now, surely you have more than enough to live in this city."

"Why not? I miss you. It's only natural for a husband to miss living with his wife again after not seeing her for three months."

"Really? I think you understand our marriage contract very well. We are not real husband and wife. I'm sure you came back because you are planning something. Do you want revenge?"

Her words made Oska's stomach twist. Husband and wife? He remembered the contract—the cruel agreement that bound him to her. Her mock tenderness did nothing but reopen old wounds.

His hands clenched behind his back, anger surging beneath his calm mask.

Oska froze for a moment. Then he put the mask back on his face, "Don't be silly. I know you hurt me before. But after three months apart from you, I feel lonely. Who knows, maybe I've really fallen in love with you."

Stevanie rested her chin on her hand, her expression softening. "Well, I can tell you've changed. You're starting to look more like a real husband though. Maybe we could actually be one someday."

Hearing that, once again, Oska froze. Stevanie's words clearly sounded like manipulation. They were truly toxic. And that made Oska's emotions explode even more.

"Sir, are you alright?" Jennie asked gently.

"I'm fine," Oska replied. "Just… focus on your work."

Stevanie's voice cut through the air. "No, Oska. Could you leave us for a moment? I need to talk to your new assistant in private."

He frowned. "What are you planning to do?"

"Nothing harmful," she said with a cold smile. "Just a woman-to-woman chat. You're not invited. Get out now."

A knot tightened in Oska's chest, but he obeyed, stepping outside the office. He lingered near the door, unease gnawing at him. He strained to listen, but the voices inside were faint—interrupted now and then by a muffled sob.

"What the hell is she doing to Jennie?" he muttered.

Ten minutes later, the door flew open. Jennie stumbled out, tears streaking down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, sir," she cried. "I can't be your assistant. I'm leaving. Goodbye!"

Before Oska could stop her, Jennie fled down the corridor, her sobs echoing behind her—each tear falling like a quiet warning.

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