Chapter 3 Pervert Ladies
Anya's face drained of color.
“Is this how you’re doing your job?” Dante barked, slamming the file down on the desk. “Printing this kind of crap all day? This is a professional office, not some teenage magazine!”
“I didn’t—” she started, staring in confusion.
He didn’t care.
“You're already broke. I gave you a chance, and this is how you repay it? Don’t you have enough common sense to know what belongs in a damn CEO’s file?”
Anya quickly bent down to pick up the photos that had fallen from the file. She shoved them back in and slapped it shut, her face tight with worry as she looked up at Dante.
“I didn’t do it. Someone asked me to bring this file to you. I’m not stupid—why would I print such photos and hand them to you?”
Dante’s jaw clenched as a muscle ticked near his temple. His eyes darkened, and he rose from his chair, his tall frame casting a shadow over the room. His voice was cold, edged with anger.
“Anya, this isn’t—”
The door swung open.
Ashley walked in with a different file in her hand and an expression of innocence plastered on her face. Her eyes shifted between Anya and Dante.
“I overheard you, Anya,” Ashley said, shaking her head as if disappointed. “Mr. Kingsley, she really shouldn’t be mixing personal matters in the office. It’s shameful, honestly.”
Anya marched across the room and stopped right in front of her. “Perfect timing. You’re the one who gave me that file, right? Tell him. This is the same file you handed me.”
Ashley blinked, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about? When did I give you anything? This—” she held up the file in her hand, “—is the actual file Mr. Kingsley asked for. Maybe you overheard me and grabbed the wrong one to impress him?”
“What?” Anya’s face contorted with disbelief, her voice rising slightly.
But Ashley clicked her tongue, unimpressed.
“Anya, I’ve worked here for years. I’d never make such a stupid mistake. I didn’t give you any documents.”
Anya’s fingers twitched, her hand curling into a fist. She had to fight the urge to slap the smug expression off Ashley’s face.
Ashley casually walked over to Dante’s desk, placing the file down and looking between the two.
“You’re too young for this job. Is your only plan to get rich fast and seduce your boss? This isn’t some cheesy drama, Anya. You have to take responsibility when you mess up.”
Anya’s face darkened, her patience wearing thin. She stepped forward.
“I’m the one who needs to learn? Learn what? You handed me that document and now you’re accusing me to my face?”
Ashley’s expression shifted to mock devastation. She turned to Dante. “Mr. Kingsley, please. You have to believe me. I would never do something like this. This new hire is doing inappropriate things and, now blaming me?”
Anya opened her mouth to speak, but Dante’s voice cut through the room like thunder.
“Enough.”
The silence was immediate.
Ashley fought hard to hide her smug smile. ‘That’s all it took.’ She smirked inwardly, standing straighter, assuming Dante’s anger would now fall on Anya. ‘Mr. Kingsley never tolerates mistakes. Now she’s getting fired.’ Her thoughts raced with glee, already plotting how to slide into Anya’s position—and eventually into Dante’s bed.
Dante frowned as he looked at the closed file, then glanced at Anya again. His expression softened slightly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a black credit card and extended it toward her.
“You’re going through a lot,” he said, offering her the card. His voice was calm now. “Take this to spend on yourself. Stop worrying about everything else and focus on your work. If you do well, you won’t have to stress about anything, and your attention will be on work.”
Ashley’s mouth dropped open.
‘He’s… giving her a credit card? Not firing her? What the hell is going on?’
Anya blinked, caught off guard. Then her lips curved into a grin, the tension in her shoulders fading.
“I don’t need a card, Mr. Kingsley.” she said quickly.
“Take it,” Dante insisted, holding it out. His tone turned softer, almost gentle. “If you have money, you won’t be distracted by other worries.”
“It’s alright, Mr. Kingsley. I really don’t need it.” She smiled and lightly pushed his hand back.
Dante studied her for a moment, then raised a brow. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.” She nodded, and he finally pulled his hand back, picking up his coffee for a sip.
Then Anya suddenly pulled out her phone and placed it in front of him.
“I don’t need a card,” she muttered nonchalantly, showing him a QR code on the screen. “Just transfer the money directly. Cards are too much trouble.”
Dante choked on his coffee, coughing a little.
She handed him some tissues immediately. “Here.”
He took the tissue, eyeing her with disbelief and something close to amusement.
Ashley stood frozen, her eyes darting between the two. She couldn’t form a single word.
Dante wiped his mouth, glanced at Anya, then slowly picked up his phone. He scanned the QR code she held up and transferred a few thousand dollars to her.
Anya’s phone chimed. She looked at the notification and beamed.
“Thank you for the money. I’ll pay you back once I get my salary.”
Dante’s lips twitched with a rare smile at the corner of his mouth. He pocketed his phone and sank back into his chair.
“Don’t make mistakes like this again at work.”
“Of course.” Anya nodded quickly, then turned her sharp, direct gaze to Ashley.
“I’ll make sure to double-check every document before I bring it in, so no one gets to blame me for their mess.”
Dante noticed the flicker in Anya’s eyes. He raised the back of his hand to his mouth, hiding the smile threatening to break through, though a frown had already crept into his brows. Clearing his throat to mask the chuckle, he watched as Anya picked up the file and walked out of his office.
Ashley watched her leave, her nails digging into her palms. ‘He didn’t believe her, did he?’ her heart pounded in her chest, nerves flaring.
"What are you still doing here?" Dante's voice cut sharply through the air, colder and far more impatient than the tone he'd used with Anya. "Leave. Get back to work."
Ashley’s face flushed with humiliation. The stark contrast between how he treated her and how he spoke to Anya made her stomach twist. Her jaw clenched, but she said nothing—just turned on her heel and left the room without a word.
The day passed quickly, and as evening crept in, Anya packed her bag, ready to head home.
The girls seated near Ashley glanced up and watched her. One of them sneered, her voice sweet but laced with mockery. “Not even pretending to work overtime on your first day, Anya? Mr. Kingsley’s still in his office. Shouldn’t you at least try to impress him?”
Anya looked at her, unbothered, and shrugged. “My work’s done. I’m here to do a job, not babysit anyone.”
Their jaws dropped in disbelief. Ashley glared, while the others exchanged stunned glances. But Anya didn’t care. She turned and strutted away with calm indifference.
As she neared Dante’s office to let him know she was leaving, she overheard his voice through the slightly ajar door. He was on the phone, the loudspeaker on.
“I won’t be able to make it. Swamped with work,” Dante muttered, his hand scribbling notes on a file with sharp strokes.
Music blared faintly in the background from the caller’s side. “Come on, it’s been ages. Just come for a bit. Rough week, man.”
Dante exhaled slowly, his broad chest rising with restraint. “Fine. I’ll come by later.”
At that moment, Anya’s phone buzzed, breaking the silence. Dante lifted his head, brows raised as she answered the call.
“Anya?” Griffin’s warm voice came through. “When are you and Dante coming home? Dinner’s ready. I’ll have the table set if you’re hungry already.”
“I was just about to leave, Grandpa,” she said nervously, biting her bottom lip. “But Mr. Kingsley seems like he’s about to head out and meet his friends.” She glanced at Dante, who was clearly listening. Then she lowered the phone and stepped closer to him, allowing Griffin’s voice to carry.
“Don’t come home,” Griffin said immediately. “Go with Dante. There are dangerous girls at these bars. I’m afraid someone might try something—spike his drink or worse. It’s happened before.”
Dante frowned, tilting his head, confusion flashing in his eyes.
“Okay, Grandpa,” Anya murmured, hanging up the call.
When she lifted her gaze, Dante was staring at her, his dark eyes locked on hers so intensely she flinched in surprise.
“I’m not taking you with me,” he said firmly. “Go home.”
Anya slipped her phone into her bag, standing her ground. “No. Grandpa asked me to keep an eye on you,” she said, eyes burning with determination. “So you have to take me with you. If something happens, I’ll handle it.”
She crossed her arms, chin lifting in stubborn defiance.
“I don’t care about you,” she added quickly, catching the subtle twitch in his jaw. “I care about Grandpa. He’s worried. I don’t want him to worry.”
Dante dragged a hand over his face and exhaled. A dull throb pressed against his temples, and he rubbed his forehead with two fingers before looking back at her.
She was still standing there—staring at him with those wide, unblinking eyes. No hesitation. No trace of a smile to suggest she was joking.
***
Anya stepped into the Blue Orchid Bar beside Dante, and her lips parted in awe. The place was enormous—elegant and dazzling with an open roof that revealed the night sky above. Stars shimmered overhead while the party thrived below. For a bar, it was more stunning and extravagant than anything she had imagined.
Dante walked swiftly through the crowd but didn’t stop at the bar. Instead, he moved past it and headed for the staircase leading to the VIP area above.
Anya followed close behind as he made his way to a central table in the elevated lounge that overlooked the entire club.
A few men were already seated—breathtakingly handsome, like gods who had stepped straight out of a fantasy. As soon as they saw Dante, they greeted him with grins and nods.
And those grins and nods? They nearly stopped Anya’s heart, hitting her with mini heart attacks with every step she took toward them.
‘What is this? Heaven?’ she trembled.
Dante took a seat on the plush leather couch. Anya sat beside him, her posture calm but her gaze curious as she observed the others.
The arrangement had three couches around the table, enough to seat a dozen comfortably.
Triston, one of Dante’s longtime friends, looked between them with a wide grin. “So... you’re into younger women?” he teased. “Isn’t she a bit too young to be my sister-in-law already?”
Chuckles echoed around the table.
Two more men sat at the table. One was Raiden—cool and composed, dressed in a crisp shirt, clearly a man of business like Dante. The other was Adrian, relaxed and slightly tipsy, nursing a drink. He owned a massive luxury cars empire. Triston, in contrast, was a well-known model—loud, playful, and flirtatious.
Dante reached for one of the many glasses chilled in the center of the table and took a sip. “She’s not my wife,” Dante said flatly, clearly annoyed. “She’s just—”
“Just a friend?” Raiden interrupted.
“No,” Anya said before Dante could even finish his sentence. “I’m not his friend. I’m just an employee.”
Dante turned to her, his gaze sharp. “What?”
The table fell silent.
Everyone turned to look at her in disbelief. Even Dante’s eyes narrowed, his brows knitting in surprise, clearly not expecting her to cut ties so coldly. She didn’t even try to take advantage of the situation. She just… outright rejected any association with him beyond work?
Completely oblivious to the stunned silence, Anya kept her eyes glued to the colorful drinks in front of her. She picked up a sparkly blue one and took a sip, her eyes lighting up in wonder. “I just came along to have some fancy drinks, that’s all,” she added casually, already going for her second glass.
“She’s bold,” Raiden commented, amused.
Adrian chuckled and leaned back. “She doesn’t look scared of you at all, Dante.”
“She’s drunk,” Dante said flatly, sipping his drink as the others howled with laughter.
Raiden smirked. “So when she’s sober, she’s scared?”
Dante ignored the comment and took a long sip of his drink, while the others smirked.
The men exchanged glances. Triston leaned back with a wide grin, lifting his glass toward her. “To our brave guest.”
Anya grinned back and clinked her glass with his. “Cheers!”
The mood at the table lightened again, laughter and conversation picking up as the men started talking amongst themselves. Anya, meanwhile, ignored all of them and focused on her new goal—trying every sparkling drink on the table. She stayed focused on sampling every glittering drink she could find, trying to guess their flavors like it was some sort of game. She didn’t even notice when she had downed five glasses.
By the sixth, her vision was starting to blur.
Dante’s sharp gaze followed her hand as it reached for yet another glass. He grabbed it before she could take it.
“Anya,” he said sharply, his jaw tightening. “I told you not to come. And now look at you. How many drinks have you had already?”
Anya glared up at him with drunken defiance. “Don’t be so rude to me! Is that how you talk to the one who came here just to save you from pervert ladies?”
Dante clenched his jaw, placing the glass back down with a thud.
Triston was starting to shake with laughter, “Man, even your employees go into hiding for four days when you give them that glare. Look at her.”
Triston snorted. “She came with you to save you from ‘pervert ladies’?”
“Shut it!”
A few sips later, her eyes glazed over and her tongue loosened. She raised her glass with a lopsided grin. “Mr. Kingsley is my savior,” she declared. “If he hadn’t taken me in last night and let me sleep in his bed, I’d be homeless!”
Every man at the table froze and turned to Dante.
“You’re living with him?” Raiden sat up straighter, the rest of the men looking intrigued. Dante’s glare practically screamed ‘stay out of this!’.
“You’ve had enough,” Dante said, pushing gently on her head to make her sit.
But she swatted his hand away with a scowl and launched into a full explanation about how her mom kicked her out and Dante let her stay. “Ex-mom kicked me out. So I ended up at Dante’s house. He let me sleep in his house. He’s so kind.”
The men listened, clearly entertained.
Then, suddenly, she turned toward Dante, placed one knee on the couch, grabbed his collar, and leaned close—her drunken eyes locked onto his.
“He is my savior,” she said again, louder this time. “If he hadn’t taken me into his bedroom, I’d be on the streets.”
“Into his bedroom ?” Triston repeated, eyes wide.
Dante’s jaw ticked. He snatched a fry and shoved it into her mouth. “Anya, shut up and sit down.”
She chewed happily, then leaned her forehead against his. “You’re so generous,” she whispered loudly. “You even feed me now. You’re the kindest man alive. So handsome. Such a deep voice. You even gave me money.”
Everyone around the table gawked.
Dante sat frozen. Anya was too close. Her face, her voice, her breath—all of it right in his space. He’d never let any woman this close before. It didn’t feel uncomfortable… it felt different. A strange tremble moved through his chest.
She turned back to the others. “He’s got abs like a Greek god. I counted them. Eight. EIGHT abs!”
Adrian, Triston, and Raiden turned to Dante, disbelief all over their faces. The man who barely looked twice at women was now sitting with one in his lap, rambling about his body.
“You’ve seen his body already?” Triston asked, nearly choking on laughter.
“Anya, shut up,” Dante barked, trying to push her back.
Instead, she fell into his lap, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, her face buried against the warm curve of his throat.
Still unfazed, she looked at Triston and nodded with all the seriousness in the world. “Yeah. I had a very good look last night. Chest. Abs. And then down be—”
“ANYA!” Dante snapped, slapping a hand over her mouth.
She stuck out her tongue and licked his palm.
He jerked his hand back, startled.
“You’ve got such nice abs,” she muttered, still sitting in his lap. “Like, really nice. Hard chest. Not boobs or anything. Rock hard. So nice.”
“Anya—” Dante growled, grabbing her wrist, trying to pull her hand away, but she only wriggled it deeper under his shirt.
The men didn’t even try to hide their laughter now. They watched, drinking, fully entertained.
“What? You don’t believe me?” she looked offended. “Fine, take off your shirt. Show them. I’m telling the truth! I saw everything. You weren’t even wearing panties!”
“ Fucking hell! ” Dante roared.
The men around the table howled with laughter.