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“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.