Chapter 10 My Personal Assistant

Austin was both startled and suspicious, his mind suddenly flashing with the idle gossip he'd heard.

"I heard Mr. Robinson always admired your wife… even praised her work."

"Austin, if you really want to make peace with Mr. Robinson, why not bring your wife to the gala? Who knows—he might be more inclined to forgive you for her sake."

And then came the memory of Brandon's lingering gaze on Olivia the night before.

Could it be…?

Austin's eyes burned red, a mix of humiliation and anger at the thought of another man coveting his wife—alongside a secret thrill he'd never admit aloud. He shot to his feet, pacing the office in tight circles before finally making up his mind.

Minutes later, Austin was back home. He stormed into the bedroom, startling Olivia out of her thoughts.

"Austin? Is that you?"

Her unfocused gaze darted toward the sound. Austin, heart pounding, didn't notice her unease. He strode up to her, looking down from above.

By any measure, Olivia was beautiful. Her delicate features were framed by a small, fine-boned face. Long lashes trembled with nervous tension, casting faint shadows over eyes that, though sightless, were clear and arresting.

Austin said nothing. Olivia's wariness grew. "Austin? Is that you?"

His gaze dropped to the soft curve of her lips—rosy, inviting—and the smoothness of her skin. He found himself leaning in, drawn by the urge to taste those lush lips.

"You… who are you! Someone, help!"

Olivia's sharp cry for Xyla was followed by two hard slaps across Austin's face.

"You bastard! My husband will beat you to death for this!"

The blows left him stunned. He tried to explain, but Olivia's hand shot up again, landing a third slap. "Get out!"

Austin finally caught her wrists, shouting, "Olivia, it's me!"

"…Austin?"

She looked up at him, feigning innocence, panic in her voice. "How could it be you? What have I done?"

"I'm sorry, Austin… I didn't mean it. You wouldn't say a word, and I thought you were an intruder…"

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Austin's anger collapsed into silence. He drew several deep breaths, his expression twisting before he managed to say, "It's fine, Olivia. Don't be afraid.

"Let's put this aside. I need to ask—was it Brandon who brought you home last night?"

His eyes locked onto hers.

Olivia's heart skipped, and she stared at him in surprise. "Austin… you already know?"

"I… I didn't mean to hide it. I was afraid you'd be angry." She lowered her head.

That look only confirmed his suspicions. He gripped her shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze. "What happened last night? Tell me, Olivia!"

She shrank back, speaking only after a long pause. "Mr. Robinson… he asked me to work at his company.

"He said I owed him three hundred million dollars from pulling out of a project years ago… and that I should work to repay the debt."

Three hundred million? Austin's mind spat curses. Brandon was clearly after more than money. Yet what came out of his mouth was the opposite. "If that's true, Mr. Robinson is generous."

Swallowing the humiliation, he forced a smile. "Olivia, this is a great opportunity. You've been stuck at home for two years—you must be restless. And now The Robinson Group is offering you a way back into the workforce. I'm happy for you."

Olivia almost applauded him. His skill at swallowing pride was something to behold.

She smirked inwardly. No wonder she'd once been blind to his true nature. "Austin, I knew you'd understand me. Don't worry—at Mr. Robinson's company, I'll work hard and contribute to our family."

His expression softened at her promise. He pulled her into his arms. "Good, Olivia. I trust you."

In his embrace, her lips curled into a mocking smile.

Before heading to The Robinson Group, Olivia made a stop to see divorce attorney Elise Sinclair.

Elise was formidable—known for high‑stakes cases and for securing exceptional settlements for her clients. But after reviewing Olivia's file, Elise's expression tightened.

"Ms. Smith, while you have a lot of evidence, most of it is circumstantial—and much of it was obtained illegally. In court, it would likely be ruled inadmissible."

Her voice was gentle but firm. "I understand your feelings. But if you want him to walk away with nothing, this isn't enough."

Olivia caught the implication instantly. "What else do you need?"

A faint smile curved Elise's lips. Behind her gold‑rimmed glasses, her eyes were sharp. "At the very least, I need concrete proof of infidelity. For example—a photo in bed.

"With that, I'd have a sixty percent chance of winning."

Olivia nodded slowly. "I understand, Ms. Sinclair. I'll get you the proof you need."

Elise's smile deepened. "Then I'll be waiting, Ms. Smith."

With a clear target, Olivia's mood lifted. She was still smiling when she arrived at the Robinson Group.

The receptionist, hearing her name, immediately led her upstairs. "Ms. Smith, Mr. Robinson is expecting you in his office."

Olivia thanked her, taking in the unusual quiet of the top floor. She walked to the end of the corridor and stopped at the door marked "Chairman."

Drawing a deep breath, she knocked lightly.

"Come in."

The familiar voice made her push the door open.

The office was minimalist—black, white, and gray—serious but not cold, reflecting Brandon's meticulous nature.

"Mr. Robinson, I'm here to start work…"

"The office next door is yours. From today, you'll be the project manager—and my personal assistant."

Brandon didn't look up as he cut her off.

Olivia froze mid‑sentence. "…What?"

"Personal assistant." His eyes met hers. "You'll learn. I can teach you right now…"

He rose, a playful smile on his face, closing the distance between them step by step.

Olivia instinctively backed away. Brandon kept advancing.

Within moments, her back hit the wall. There was nowhere left to go.