The moment I stepped in front of Reid Enterprises, my gut screamed at me to turn around and run. The sleek glass doors reflected my face back at me—a woman dressed in business casual, looking the part, but feeling like a complete fraud.
"This is a terrible idea," my inner voice whispered.
Out loud, I muttered, "Let's get this over with."
Damien Reid had thrown me into this position as if I were some kind of business prodigy. Little did he know, I had the skills to survive—but showing them too soon would ruin my carefully crafted image of mediocrity. The key was balance: be competent enough to keep the job, but clueless enough to stay under the radar.
Stepping inside, I was hit with an immediate sense of eerie perfection. Sleek black floors, high-tech security, employees moving in precise synchronization like robots. And in the middle of it all stood a woman with razor-sharp glasses and an even sharper attitude.
"You're late," she declared, her gaze making me feel like gum stuck to her pristine schedule.
I blinked. "It's 7:59."
"Exactly. Early is on time. On time is late. Late is unacceptable."
Oh, great. One of those people.
"Right. Won't happen again," I lied smoothly, flashing my best "I totally care about this job" smile.
She remained unimpressed. "Follow me."
I was led through a labyrinth of hallways before stopping in front of a large office—my office. I peeked inside and—
"Oh, hell no."
Piles of folders teetered dangerously high, sticky notes covered every inch of the desk like some chaotic art installation, and in the corner, a printer looked like it had been plotting its own demise for years.
"I assume you're familiar with corporate restructuring?" Sharp Glasses asked.
"Totally," I replied. "Just remind me what it is. You know, for... confirmation."
She narrowed her eyes before handing me a tablet. "Your task is to manage department operations. Budgets, efficiency, failing projects, executive reports. The previous manager quit yesterday. Something about 'soul-crushing expectations' and 'Damien Reid has no heart.' You'll be taking over."
Fantastic. I resisted the urge to turn around and run. "Sounds... thrilling."
"Mr. Reid will check in later. Don't embarrass yourself."
With that, she left, shutting the door behind her.
I was alone. With this disaster.
"Alright," I muttered. "Time to fake it till I make it."
Three hours later, I had somehow broken the printer, accidentally approved an office-wide pizza party (which was apparently not budget-approved), and started a passive-aggressive email war between two department heads over a missing stapler.
The employees had already decided I was either an incompetent fool or a comedic genius sent to make their day interesting.
Then Damien walked in.
He took one glance around the room, arching a brow. "So this is what absolute chaos looks like."
Casually, I leaned on my desk. "It's called hands-on management."
Stolen novel; please report.
He stepped closer, arms crossed, smirking like he had just found his next source of amusement. "You're handling this beautifully."
I narrowed my eyes. "Are you being sarcastic?"
"What do you think?"
I tilted my head, putting on my most innocent expression. "That I'm thriving? That I was born for this job? That you're secretly impressed by my ingenuity?"
His smirk deepened. "Fix it. Now." I don't know if he was just being serious or was enjoying the situation?..
"Absolutely. Right after lunch" I said.
"No. Now." he said seriously, totally a boss.
I exhaled sharply, rolling up my sleeves. "Alright, let's see just how deep my reservoir of questionable skills goes."
Damien tilted his head slightly, gaze assessing. "I don't doubt that. I'm just wondering how long you plan to keep pretending otherwise."
I froze for half a second before flashing my brightest grin. "No idea what you're talking about."
His smirk remained. "Of course you don't."
And just like that, I realized something terrifying.
Damien Reid was onto me.
Wait—how? Did he know something? Had Ivy told him? No... probably not. She wouldn't, right? Unless he had a way of pulling it out of her. He was annoyingly persistent.
Ugh. Focus, Lily. The contract. Just stick to the contract. That's what matters. Just do the job and keep your head down.
But wait—do I need to start retracking my days here? What if I've slipped up somewhere? Oh no—what about the shop? Is Maomao handling things? What about Xiabao? He does look like that one male celebrity, but that doesn't mean he can run a business.
Alright, brain. Enough. Meeting adjourned. Back to pretending I belong here and let's quickly fixed this.
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The moment I signed that contract—wait, I didn't sign anything!—the moment I was forced into this job, I knew I had just stepped into a lion's den. And Damien Reid? He was the lion. No—more like a smug, overgrown housecat that enjoyed playing with its food.
"Be here at 8 AM sharp," Damien had instructed the night before.
Now, standing in front of the sleek glass doors, I checked my phone.
7:59 AM. Perfect timing—
"MISS LILY!"
A blur of color as a woman sprinted past me, balancing three coffee trays stacked on top of each other. I barely stepped aside before she tripped, sending a flood of overpriced caffeine straight at me.
I dodged—barely.
The coffee, however, found a new victim.
"...You have got to be kidding me."
Neatly dressed, now dripping in iced caramel lattes, was Jared—Personal Assistant to Mr. Reid. His expression? A mixture of why me?, I am so underpaid for this, and I should've been a lawyer like my mother wanted.
"...I don't get paid enough for this," Jared muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, forcing a customer-service smile, "Good morning, Miss Lily. Right this way."
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Jared's POV
You ever have those days where you think, this is it, this is how I die?
Yeah. That was today.
I'd worked under Damien Reid for five years. The man was ruthless, brilliant, and about as soft as a brick wall. People feared him. Respected him. Avoided eye contact in hallways.
And yet, as I stood in his office, watching Miss Lily, I saw something I never thought possible.
Damien Reid was entertained.
Not just amused. Genuinely, fully, enjoying himself.
Miss Lily's expressions were an open book—tense one second, irritated the next, then suspicious, then frustrated. She went through more emotions in five minutes than I did in five years here.
Damien, of course, smirked like a cat who had found a very interesting mouse.
I'd never seen anyone talk back to him so freely. Hell, I barely spoke unless spoken to. But Miss Lily? She was different.
And the best part? I was rooting for her.
According to my sources, she was the real reason Ivy's company skyrocketed. She had taken a chaotic mess and turned it into a goldmine—yet stayed in the shadows, working as a florist instead of taking credit.
Why?
I didn't know.
But I did know one thing—Miss Ivy trusted her. And now, that friend was here, standing in front of the most powerful man in the city, pretending she had no idea what she was doing.
I wasn't buying it.
Miss Lily was sharp. Ridiculously sharp.
And now? It was up to her to survive Damien Reid.
...Good luck, Miss Lily.
Because judging by the glint in Damien's eyes, he already knew what she was capable of.
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Next Chapter Questions:
Will Lily be able to keep up her act, or will Damien break through her defenses?
What secrets does Jared know about her past?
Can Maomao and Xiabao really handle the shop without her?
And most importantly... how much chaos will Lily cause next
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Author's Note: Hey, readers! First of all, thank you for diving into this chaotic mess with me. As a newbie author, every bit of feedback, every comment, and every reaction fuels my motivation (and possibly my caffeine addiction). Writing this story has been a whirlwind, and I hope you're enjoying Lily's misadventures as much as I am. Stick around—there's plenty more drama (and disaster) ahead!
Much love, Belle 🌸✨
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