Chapter [13]: Assistant

"This way, Miss," the man said in a low, calm voice. Lolita recognized him as one of Monica's men. Without a word, she followed him out of the dimly lit ballroom to where a sleek black Mercedes Maybach was parked. The car gleamed under the streetlights, its dark-tinted windows hiding whatever lay inside. The door opened smoothly, and she slid in, her heart heavier than she cared to admit.

As the car pulled away, she glanced back through the window. Her eyes caught a fleeting figure in the distance—a pair of amber eyes watching her disappear into the night.

"Should we follow her?" a voice asked softly from the shadows.

"No," Sofian Sai replied with finality, his gaze fixed on the departing car.

Inside the Maybach, the silence was suffocating. "Where are you taking me?" Lolita finally asked, her voice steady yet sharp.

"Back to your motel," the bodyguard replied curtly, his eyes fixed on the road. "Miss Monica will see you tomorrow."

She didn't press further, knowing the futility of it. Her head leaned against the cool glass of the window, her exhaustion seeping into every fiber of her being. The city's lights blurred into streaks of gold and white as she stared out.

When they arrived at the modest motel, she stepped out of the car without a word, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. The receptionist handed her the key, and she made her way to her room, her steps heavy. Behind the locked door, Lolita let the tension of the night finally slip away. She stripped out of her gown, folded it neatly, and shoved it into her backpack along with the mask. She fell onto the bed, her body sinking into the thin mattress, and closed her eyes.

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Lolita woke to the pale afternoon light streaming through the curtains. Her eyes fluttered open, and the sight of her phone's screen made her heart jolt—it was already 1 PM.

She bolted upright, panic settling in her chest. How could she have slept so long? Her brother, Matteo, was probably hungry, and her bedridden mother... God, what if something happened to them while she was gone?

Moving quickly, she showered, slipped into her old, worn clothes, and stuffed her belongings into her bag. The gown and mask—symbols of a world she had no place in—lay tucked away. "I'll return them later," she muttered to herself before hurrying out to hail a taxi.

The ride to San Pablo was uneventful but grating. She watched the scenery change as the roads became rougher, lined with potholes and stray goats. The air felt thicker, dustier. When the taxi stopped at the usual drop-off point, Lolita paid the driver and stepped into the bustling streets. The faint sound of children laughing and the scent of frying plantains filled the air as she walked.

She spotted Matteo's friends playing football near the house. "Big Sis Lolita!" one of them called out, grinning as he waved.

Lolita gave them a small, distracted smile. "Where's Matteo?" she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

The boys shrugged. "We haven't seen him," one replied before kicking the ball toward the goal.

Her stomach sank. When she reached their small, cluttered house, she pushed the door open to find it unlocked. Anger flashed through her. How could Matteo leave it this way?

"Matteo!" she called out as she moved through the house. No response. Her eyes darted to the room where her mother stayed, but it was empty too. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths quickening.

Her mind raced with worst-case scenarios until she noticed it—a black Maybach parked just down the street. The same one from last night. Her jaw tightened as the driver stepped out.

"Miss Monica would like to see you," he said.

Without hesitation, she followed him back to the car, her nerves frayed but her expression stoic.

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The Maybach glided through the gates of Monica's estate, a sprawling mansion surrounded by lush gardens that felt almost sinister in their beauty. Inside, Lolita was escorted to Monica's office.

The room smelled faintly of cigars and expensive perfume. Monica sat behind her mahogany desk, her sharp eyes fixed on Lolita. Shane lounged in a chair across from her, a smug smile playing on his lips, while Andrew stood near the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Have a seat," Monica said smoothly, gesturing to the chair beside Shane.

Lolita sat down, her back straight and her expression guarded.

"I shouldn't have doubted you," Shane said, clapping his hands slowly. His smile widened as he leaned forward. "You were... impressive."

"I told you she'd be perfect for the job," Monica added, a hint of pride in her voice.

Andrew finally turned from the window, his gaze meeting Lolita's. "Indeed. Well done."

Monica slid an iPad across the desk toward Lolita. "You might want to see this."

Lolita hesitated before picking it up. Her stomach turned as she watched the footage from the ball—her conversation with Sofian Sai, the dance, every carefully calculated move she'd made. They'd been watching her the whole time.

"Sofian is looking for a personal assistant," Andrew said, breaking the silence.

Lolita frowned, her fingers tightening around the iPad. "And what does that have to do with me?"

"By Monday, you'll write an application to Xus Group," Andrew replied, his tone firm.

Her laugh was bitter. "I don't have a laptop. I don't have a proper dress. And, in case you've forgotten, I'm an illiterate. How exactly do you expect me to get the job?"

Andrew smirked. "Don't worry. We'll take care of that."

Monica leaned back in her chair. "That won't be a problem. Waki will take you to your new apartment filled with clothes"

Lolita's eyes widened, though she quickly masked her surprise.

"And as promised..." Andrew slid a briefcase across the desk toward her.

Her hands shook slightly as she opened it. Inside was more money than she'd ever seen in her life—$15 million.

"There will be more," Andrew said, his tone almost casual, "as long as you hold up your end of the deal." He walked back to the window, his silhouette framed by the sunlight.

"And your mother?" Monica added, her voice smooth. "She's already receiving treatment at the best hospital. Matteo is there too, being well taken care of."

Lolita's throat tightened, but she refused to show emotion.

"Don't forget," Andrew said without turning around, "I want to see you by Monday."

Monica gestured toward the door. "Brilos will take you to the hospital now."

Lolita stood, clutching the briefcase tightly. As she left the room, Shane's voice followed her. "Good bye Lolita, I will see you soon."

She didn't look back.

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