The CEO's Fake Assistant

NATALIA

If life throws you a lemon, make a lemonade out of it, so they say. That’s not true, at least not in my case. I would rather make poison out of it if that were possible. Right now, I did choose poison over lemonade.

I thought I was strong and could handle whatever sh*t life throws at me. Well, that’s what I believed, not until life threw some really stinking sh*t my way.

I wish I could be nonchalant about it and act the way I usually do, but I can’t seem to do that. It hurt. I’m a few steps away from depression.

Dark thoughts keep creeping into my mind, and I can’t seem to shake it off. I’ve thought of slitting my wrist more than a thousand times, but then the pain that would fuel my parent's soul keeps the thought at bay. But the thought keeps coming back every time I go online and see the derogatory comments about me and my parents.

I don’t really give two fucks about what the world has to say about me, but my parents? That’s a no, but sadly, I can do nothing.

I hate the fact that my parents are dragged into my mess. I hate that they are abusing them because of that b*st*rd.

People are so gullible to believe everything they see or hear. I hate that I’m running away and leaving my parents to face the world by themselves.

I cursed the day I met that b*st*rd. He didn’t just ruin my life but that of my parents. What did my parents ever do to him? They were nice to him, and they treated him like their son. I was nice to him too, so what really happened?

What did I do wrong?

I still feel like this is a nightmare, but sadly, I can’t wake up because this is a reality.

“Natalia darling, are you sure you want to do this?” My dad asks as I reach the landing stairs. I heard that men don’t cry, at least not in public. They cry in their heart. However, that’s not the case with my dad. His eyes are red and puffy from crying. And the pain on his face is like a blow to my gut.

I can’t forget the first tears that rolled down his cheeks when we received Bryce's message. There was no moment for manliness; my dad crumbled before me. He cried with me that day. It was the most embarrassing moment of my life and my family.

My dad was so ashamed to face his guest, but he wasn’t ashamed to stand by me. His warm embrace gave me the strength to make it out of the church amidst the press of reporters. It's been five weeks, but it still feels like yesterday. Every breath I take seems to suffocate me, and the pain on my parents' faces is not making this any better.

“Yes, Dad, I want to do it. I can’t stay here, or else I will lose my mind. Everyone is talking about it.” Even after five weeks, the media is still talking about me.

Dad wipes his face and nods at me in understanding. He reaches out his hand to take my bag, and I let him. I feel like my dad has aged twenty years in just five weeks.

“I don’t care what people say or think about you. They can say all they want.” I let out a sigh.

“I wish I didn’t care. I thought I didn’t, but I do, and it is killing me. I need to get away from all of these, Dad.” My dad palms his face and settles into the nearby couch.

I hate to see my parents in pain because of me. I hope they will be more at peace when I leave. I can’t bear to see them hurting like this.

“Natalia, please don’t go; I need you here.” Delicate frowns appear on my mom’s face as she cups my face. Her voice is husky, and her lips are trembling so hard. “Mom, please.”

“Natalia…” I look into my mom’s once sparkling eyes, which look lifeless and filled with gloominess. My heart shatters, and I can’t hold back the tears pooling in the corner of my eyes. I loathe myself for being the reason for her pain.

“No, mom, I can’t stay. I need to get out of here. I need to clear my head. And maybe start afresh. I need a new beginning, and I can’t do it here, Mom.”

“Fine, I understand the need for you to go away for a while until the heat dies down, but going with a different identity is what I’m against. Are you ashamed of us?” my mom asks, and I shake my head. I take her hands into mine.

“Mom, I’m not dropping my identity because I’m ashamed of being your daughter. I want a new life for myself out there. Besides, you haven’t done anything for me to be ashamed of. If anything, I brought shame and disgrace upon you and Dad. I’m the one to be blamed. I’m really sorry I dragged you both into my mess.”

“Nonsense, you didn’t do anything wrong; if anything, that ungrateful b*st*rd is to be blamed for everything.” My dad yells, slanting a dark glare into space with a clenched fist. I’ve never seen my father this angry before. It breaks my heart, really.

“I can’t be exonerated from all the blame; after all, I brought him into our lives. I was blinded by my love for him so much that I ignored all the red flags. I should have listened to you, Dad, when you first warned me about him, but I refused. Now look where my stubbornness has landed me –us.”

I can’t believe I fell victim to love again. I can’t fathom why he made a complete fool out of me. I trusted him. Love him. Invested millions into his business only to be stabbed in the eyes. What wrong did I commit against him? I feel like I’ve been thrown into the pool of rage I’ve been trying to escape. I’m livid at the pain and humiliation those bastards have caused my parents, and I promise they will pay for it.

“Darling, don’t beat yourself up. You will be fine. Where is that strong, resilient daughter of mine?” My dad shakes me lightly. I know he is trying to ease my pain, but it isn’t working.

“Take the card with you. At least this will help you cope. Getting a job in Austria might be a bit difficult with your fake identity.”

“That’s the whole point of this dad, I don’t need to be Natalia Petrov, the heiress of Pet oil. I want to be a twenty-seven-year-old girl without all the riches and luxury.”

I take each of my parents' hands into mine. “Please let me do this. I feel like there is so much I have to learn. I’ve been a victim of this mess over and over again.”

“Fine, take one of the guards with you.” My mom pleaded, but I shook my head undeterred.

“Mom, we already talked about this. I must be on my way so I won't miss my flight.” Mom pulls me into a tight hug, and Dad does the same.

“Let’s accompany you to the airport.” I shake my head vehemently at my dad’s suggestion.

“Nope, Dad, the moment I step out of that door, I’m no longer the heiress of Pet. Besides, I don’t need attention from the press, so let me travel low.”

“If that’s what you want, then it is fine. Please be careful, and if things get hard, just come back home.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“So you won’t even let your driver drop you off at the airport?” my mom says with a deep scowl.

“That’s Natalia’s car and driver, and I’m not her, remember? I’m now Amber as of this moment.” My parents sign dejectedly—my phone beeps, signaling my ride is here.

“Take care of yourselves, Mom and Dad. I miss you and love you so much.” After a couple of hugs, I stride to the cab waiting for me.

My thoughts are all over the place. I can’t stop replaying every moment I spent with Bryce and the incident of that day in my head.

I sigh and look out the window, barely seeing the scenery before me. The driver navigates the car into the airport and then slows down because of the little commotion in front of us. My eyes land on a figure, and even if I can’t see his face, I know it is him.

No, it must be my imagination playing tricks with me. There’s no way in hell… before I can complete that thought, another figure that I know too well turns, and the world plays out in slow motion. Everything else fades away except for the two figures that made me a theme of ridicule for the media.

Tears gush out, and I don’t bother hauling them back; I let them flow freely. Emotions spiral within me. Everything comes flashing within a second, overwhelming me.

Anger bubbles in my stomach like a tidal wave, and it takes everything in me to convince myself not to bolt out of the car and beat them to a pub of their blood.

The more I stare at them, the angrier I become. I don’t know what the universe is trying to test. My tolerance level, or it’s simply making japes of my stupidity. Why would I see them on the day I decided to leave the country?

What is God scheming?

They publicly show affection for each other after turning my life into shambles. I clench my fist so hard. Anger ripples through my pores as I look at them.

My eyes burn so bad at the sight of the all-too-familiar and expensive diamond ring. Bryce and I shopped for that ring together. More accurately, I bought that ring, and now it is sitting pretty on that b*tch finger. I can’t take my eyes off them even as the car drives past them.

Two thoughts surge through my mind; one, rush to them and unleash my anger 0n them by beating and possibly killing them if I can.

Two; stay put and leave quietly. After agonizing and self-counseling, I opt for the second option despite the alluring temptation to beat Bryce. Tears roll down my cheeks, and I lean back into the car, forcing myself to tear my eyes away. I wipe away my tears. I catch the driver’s worried look but ignore it and slide out the moment he kills the engine.

“How did I meet a manipulative pig like Bryce Donalds? Oh, I remember vividly.”

Leandro “This is absurd! How could this happen?” I yell, throwing the tablet at the wall. How and why does this keep happening to me? This has been the same for two years now, and I’m losing good money. I have done everything possible to save this company, but all my efforts proved abortive.

I was so sure that I'd hit the nail on the head this time, but look how this sh*t turned out. What in the world is this sh*t? I spent a lot of money on this project, only for it to be hijacked! God damnit.

This has to be a nightmare. I’m not only losing money but good staff too. This contract was my hope at redemption, but now it is gone. It is stolen!

“Sir, I don’t know how it happened. All I know is that there is a full PR campaign promoting the news.” My manager, Philip, replied.

“We've been clawing our way through two years without a single contract. And now, when we finally have something groundbreaking, it gets snatched away. I can’t develop ideas, and someo