Chapter 2 The New Secretary
In one swift motion, Dante snatched the towel off the bed and wrapped it around his waist, his jaw clenched, eyes flashing with fury and disbelief.
“Are you out of your mind? Who the hell are you?!” he demanded.
“Who are you?” Anya demanded, ignoring his question as she crossed her arms over her chest protectively.
He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched tight, and with a low growl, he grabbed the nightclothes from the bed and stormed back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
Anya, still paralyzed from the shock of seeing a fully naked man for the first time in her life, stood frozen. He looked like he’d been carved out of stone. Her earlier panic had vanished, replaced with a painful thudding in her chest.
She had no idea where to go. This was her room. Where else was she supposed to go?
So she stayed, stiff and seething, waiting for the pervert to come back out so she could scream at him and throw him out.
But when he reappeared, he looked like he wanted to kill her. His eyes had darkened further, thunderstorm-black.
He was fully dressed now in a black T-shirt and sweatpants that hugged his tall, powerful frame. His dark hair was still damp, tousled, and falling over his forehead. Those intense green eyes locked on her, sharp as knives and burning with fury.
She twisted slightly, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her glare defiant even as fear prickled up her spine. “Pervert!” she muttered under her breath.
His glare turned lethal, and she instinctively took a step back.
Just then, Griffin walked in, his eyes shifting between her and the furious man towering near the bed.
“What’s going on in here?” he asked. “Why are you calling him a pervert?”
Anya flushed in embarrassment and turned to him, eyes wide and blinking rapidly to clear the image burned into her brain.
“Grandpa, there’s a naked pervert in my room!” Anya cried, her voice cracking with panic. “Him!” She jabbed a finger at the murder-eyes man.
Then, as if the horror hadn’t sunk in enough, she leaned in a little closer and whispered urgently, “He was naked just now. Like—no-panties naked.”
Griffin suddenly burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking with amusement as his eyes moved between the two of them.
“That’s my grandson, Anya. He’s Dante. Dante Kingsley. My own flesh and blood.”
Anya’s mouth fell open. Her horrified eyes darted to Dante.
‘I just called him a pervert. Repeatedly.’ The realization sunk in. ‘He looks like he’s about to make me homeless again.’ Panic filled her eyes as she met his cold glare.
She immediately looked away and clung to Griffin like a shield.
“I… I didn’t know,” she mumbled, stepping closer to him and away from Dante’s terrifying stare. She inched closer to the old man, whispering, “Grandpa, what is he doing in this room? I don’t want to stay here with him.”
She cast another nervous glance toward Dante and immediately flinched under his gaze.
“I-I’ll sleep in the hall. Or maybe even the garden,” she stammered. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”
Griffin was laughing so hard now that it had turned into a full-blown belly laugh.
“Anya, you’re not sleeping in the garden,” he chuckled. “Your room is on the other side of the stairs.”
Anya spun around instantly. “I’ll go right now. Thank you for the room, Grandpa.”
Before either man could say another word, she bolted out the door and down the hall, disappearing in a flash.
Griffin watched her disappear, a smile tugging at his lips. Then he turned to Dante.
“Who is she?” Dante asked flatly, his frown deepening. “What’s she doing here?”
Griffin leaned on his cane and let out a long sigh.
“She’s the Foxes’ daughter. Years ago, their real child went missing at an amusement park. A few hours later, they found Anya—who looked identical to their missing daughter. They thought she was theirs and took her home. Raised her as their own. But today… their biological daughter came back. And the moment they realized they’d raised the wrong girl all these years, they kicked Anya out.”
Dante’s brows lowered, his jaw tightening.
Griffin’s voice dropped, bitterness lacing his words.
“They threw her out like trash. Said they didn’t want her anymore. What kind of parents do that?”
Dante nodded slowly, then asked, “How long is she staying here?”
Griffin narrowed his eyes, glaring at him. “As long as she wants. Why does it matter to you? It’s my house.”
Dante raised a brow, unbothered. He grabbed his phone from the bed and muttered, “I was just asking. No need to bite my head off.”
Griffin grunted, then eyed him suspiciously. “You’re thirty, Dante. You’ve never dated a woman. Not even a man. Right?”
Dante gave him a flat look. “I’m not into men, Grandpa.”
“Good.” Griffin nodded, slapping his cane against the floor. Then leaned in and asked, “So… what do you think about Anya?”
Dante’s head snapped toward him. “Grandpa, don’t start. That girl and I? Not happening. What is she—sixteen?”
“Twenty,” Griffin waved it off. “But you’re right. She can do much better.”
Dante’s eyes flashed dangerously, but Griffin didn’t notice—or pretended not to.
“Anyway,” Griffin went on. “That girl’s in real trouble. She has nothing—no family, no home, no money. She needs a job. Weren’t you looking for a secretary recently?”
Dante straightened up, tossing his phone back on the bed and planting his hands on his hips, clearly irritated.
If it had been anyone else in Griffin’s place, they’d have run for the hills at that look.
“Grandpa, she just walked in on me naked in my own room, and now you want to send her to work in my office? As my secretary ?” His voice was like steel. “How the hell is that a good idea?”
Griffin snickered, clearly amused. “What? Are you embarrassed because a girl saw you naked? It’s not that big a deal!”
He started walking toward the door. “I’ll bring her back in and ask her to apologize—”
Dante moved fast, closing the distance in two strides and grabbing his grandfather’s arm, stopping him cold.
“That’s not necessary! I’ll give her the damn job, alright?”
Dante’s voice cut through the air, low and sharp with restrained frustration.
Grandpa halted mid-step and turned around, nodding with a pleased smile. “Good! It’s decided, then.”
Dante’s hand dropped from his arm as the old man continued, “Great. Tomorrow, she’ll go to your office with you.”
He said it casually, already walking out of the room.
“No, Grandpa, I didn’t mean tomorrow—” Dante tried to interject, but Griffin was already descending the stairs, disappearing from sight before Dante could even reach the door.
Dante clenched his jaw, fists tightening at his sides.
“It’s a deal then! She’ll be ready tomorrow!” Grandpa’s voice echoed from below.
Dante let out a heavy breath, frustration bubbling under his skin, and walked back into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.
***
Charles walked up to the grand entrance of the Fox residence, passing through the outer gate and ringing the bell several times. After a long pause, the doors finally opened, revealing Valentina with a deep frown on her face.
She looked ready to launch into a tirade—until she noticed unfamiliar faces.
“Who are you?” she asked, suspicious.
Charles looked past her expectantly, but saw no one else.
He spoke politely, “Does Anya live here? Anya Fox?”
“No,” Valentina snapped and immediately stepped back into the house. She grabbed the door. “There’s no Anya in this house. Get lost.” With that, she slammed the door and locked it from the inside.
“Mrs. Fox—” Luca stepped forward, trying to stop her, “This is Mr. Charles. He’s—”
But the door was already shut in his face, his hand smacking loudly against the iron. The sharp bang echoed in the quiet night.
Charles and Luca exchanged a look.
Then Charles exhaled deeply and turned to walk down the steps. “Luca, find out what’s going on. I want to know exactly where Anya is.”
“Of course,” Luca replied immediately, already pulling out his phone. “Don’t worry, Uncle. I’ll send men right away. We’ll find her soon.”
***
At the Kingsley manor, the breakfast table looked more like a royal banquet. Dozens of platters lined the marble surface—pancakes, fruits, pastries, cheeses, and more. But Anya sat stiffly, only picking a few slices of fruit, her appetite ruined by nerves.
Next to her sat Dante.
Dressed sharply in a tailored charcoal suit, his broad shoulders and intense aura filled the space beside her. Even without looking directly at him, she could feel him—his quiet, powerful presence made her heart race. Even his silence made her gulp.
Her leg tapped nervously beneath the table, and she forced a piece of fruit into her mouth.
Dante’s gaze slid to her, and she almost choked on that fruit.
“About last night—what you saw—”
“I didn’t see a thing!” she blurted, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Nothing. Not even a shadow. I’m blind. I have night blindness.”
Her breath hitched. She spoke so fast it came out like one long, panicked sentence.
Dante’s sharp eyes narrowed at her, lips pressing into a firm line. Then he returned to his breakfast with a low grunt. “Even if you had seen anything, you won’t remember it.”
“Yes. Absolutely.” Anya nodded quickly. “Nothing at all. I have the memory of a fish. Seven seconds max. Especially the nak—”
She slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening. She flipped her face away, horrified.
‘You want to get kicked out of this house too?!’ she cursed herself, cheeks burning red.
Dante clenched his jaw. Then he said in a deadly calm voice, “Since you’re coming to the office from today, don’t expect any special treatment.”
Anya looked up. His cold eyes met hers.
“Remember this. You’re just like any other employee. Don’t expect favors.”
“I know. Of course.” She nodded again, her tone more serious now.
Noticing her eyes fixed on him, Dante cleared his throat, an awkward expression briefly flickering in his gaze. He grabbed the plate of sandwiches from the table and shoved it in front of her.
“Eat this. I’m leaving. If you want to go with me, be outside in five.”
Anya grabbed a sandwich and shoved it into her mouth without hesitation, chewing as fast as she could. Dante pushed back his chair and stood, towering over the table as he turned and strode out of the room without another word.
Four quick bites later, she swallowed the last bit, grabbed her purse, and bolted after him.
Outside, a sleek white Rolls-Royce waited in the driveway, gleaming under the morning sun like a ghostly beast. Dante stood near the passenger side, talking on the phone, his back to her. She slowed her steps as she approached, nervous.
His green eyes flicked her way for a second, making her heart stutter in her chest.
She shuffled awkwardly in place, waiting for him to finish his call. He turned away again, murmuring into the phone.
Anya rocked nervously on her heels, fidgeting with the strap of her bag. She hated how just a look from him could make her stomach twist. He made her heart pound so hard, she feared he’d hear it.
After a few minutes, Dante ended the call and walked toward her. Without saying a word, he pulled open the car door.
“Thanks,” Anya said with a bright smile, climbing in quickly.
Seated, she beamed up at him. But Dante just stared at her with that same pissed-off expression.
“Th–thanks?” she repeated awkwardly, extending her hand toward the door as if to close it herself.
Dante growled something under his breath and slammed the door shut with force.
Anya jumped in her seat.
Anya flinched. “What’s wrong with this guy?” she whispered to herself, watching him stride around the car to the driver’s side.
Moments later, the engine roared to life, and the car sped down the streets of Manhattan.
***
Kingsley Corporation was one of the most powerful companies in the world, especially in tech and intelligence. It was one of the fastest-growing empires in the country, and with that kind of influence came tight security and a high-pressure environment, even though the office itself was filled with people.
Dante strode across the seventeenth floor, his steps swift and firm, the sound of his polished shoes echoing through the marble hallway. Towering at well over six feet, with broad shoulders, sharp features, and an aura that made people stand straighter when he passed, Dante was impossible to ignore. His dark, custom-fitted suit clung to his frame perfectly.
Anya walked beside him, though slightly behind—struggling to keep up with his long strides. Her eyes darted nervously to the people around them. All chatter in the hallway died as every pair of eyes landed on them.
“Is that... a woman with Mr. Kingsley?” one man whispered, inching closer to the group of coworkers who were also staring like they'd just seen a ghost.
“Ice King… with a woman? Am I dreaming?” another girl gasped. “He never even lets women be alone with him in public, let alone into his office! What’s going on?”
“Could she be his fiancée?”
“What fiancée? Just look at her. She doesn’t even look—”
“She’s prettier than you,” a man muttered with a shrug.
The girl shot him a cold glare, lips tightening. Ashley, who’d had a crush on Dante since he first walked into the company, felt like she'd been sucker punched. Watching the man she admired walk in with another woman by his side felt like a slap—one she didn’t see coming.
“I wonder what kind of relationship they have,” someone else muttered. “He’s never been seen alone with a woman before.”
Just then, a tall man joined the group, eyes locked on the door that had just closed behind Dante and Anya.
"That’s Mr. Kingsley’s new secretary," he informed them. "And I suggest you all stop gossiping unless you want to lose your jobs."
The earlier man nodded quickly, a tremble in his throat. “Right. He doesn’t mess around when it comes to rumors.”
“But…” a woman leaned in and whispered, “Mr. Kingsley’s never hired a female secretary before. It’s always been men. Why would he bring a woman now?”
“Maybe she’s just a temporary fill-in,” someone guessed. “Until he finds someone permanent.”
Ashley latched onto the idea like a lifeline. “Exactly,” she said with a snort. “She doesn’t even look like she knows what she’s doing. I give her a day or two—she’ll be gone by the end of the week.”
As the office buzzed back into work mode, Ashley sat down but kept watching Anya like a hawk. The girl was walking around the office, talking to different departments, asking questions, adjusting tasks on her tablet. And for some reason, everyone she spoke to was smiling. That only made Ashley's blood boil.
Ashley’s fingers clenched. The girl had a round face, big bright eyes, and a smile that made people warm up to her instantly. It made Ashley sick seeing all that fakeness.
“Is she seriously going to roam around the office all day like she owns the place?” Ashley muttered bitterly under her breath, watching the same blond guy who insulted Anya earlier now laughing with her like they were best friends.
Then, Ashley’s eyes gleamed with a plan. She stood up abruptly, marched over to her desk, and started clicking through her computer. She printed out a few photos, grabbed a blue file folder, stuffed the prints inside, and walked quickly toward Anya.
She found her in the corner of the floor, where there were no cameras.
“You’re the new secretary, right?” Ashley asked with a sweet, fake smile. “Mr. Kingsley asked for this file. Could you take it to his office, please?”
Anya smiled back, unsuspecting. “Sure.”
She knocked once before stepping into the CEO’s office.
Dante sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his expression grim as he looked up from his screen. His cold eyes flicked to the file in her hand as she held it out to him.
“How’s it going?” he asked, his voice deep, rough, but unexpectedly sincere. He took the file from her, then added, “Are you settling in all right?”
The question caught Anya off guard. She blinked, startled. He had been so cold to her since yesterday that she thought he hated her—like she was intruding into his life. The question didn’t match the man she met yesterday. She had assumed he didn’t want her here at all.
“I—uh—yes,” she nodded quickly, clearing her throat. “I’m still getting used to everything, but the office is nice. The work is manageable—”
She was mid-sentence when Dante flipped open the file, and she saw the sharp shift in his expression.
His eyes darkened like a brewing storm. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around the file.
“What the hell is this?” he barked, slamming the file onto the desk. His chair turned toward her sharply, his piercing eyes locked onto her face.
Anya blinked in confusion. “What...?”
Dante opened the file again, and the prints slipped out—dozens of shirtless male models spilling across his desk.