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FILTHY LITTLE ASSISTANT
img img FILTHY LITTLE ASSISTANT img Chapter 5 The Final Test
5 Chapters
Chapter 6 One Refusal img
Chapter 7 First Day img
Chapter 8 The Secret img
Chapter 9 Overheard img
Chapter 10 Pretending img
Chapter 11 Marco img
Chapter 12 His Private Collection img
Chapter 13 The Mistress Deal img
Chapter 14 His Mistress img
Chapter 15 The Stranger's Bed img
Chapter 16 The Price of Silence img
Chapter 17 The Hunter img
Chapter 18 Beautiful Lies img
Chapter 19 Falling img
Chapter 20 His img
Chapter 21 Too Late img
Chapter 22 Safe With Him img
Chapter 23 The Haze img
Chapter 24 Shattered img
Chapter 25 The End of Dante img
Chapter 26 Worth It img
Chapter 27 She Stays img
Chapter 28 Playing Broken img
Chapter 29 What We Want img
Chapter 30 Her Game img
Chapter 31 Getting Obsessed img
Chapter 32 Watching img
Chapter 33 His World img
Chapter 34 Out of Control img
Chapter 35 Breaking Point img
Chapter 36 claimed img
Chapter 37 The Morning After img
Chapter 38 You Are Nothing Without Me img
Chapter 39 Cold Calculation img
Chapter 40 Playing the Part img
Chapter 41 Over img
Chapter 42 His Mother img
Chapter 43 Playing Family img
Chapter 44 After She Leaves img
Chapter 45 His Control img
Chapter 46 The First Move img
Chapter 47 Loyal Dogs img
Chapter 48 The Devil You Wake img
Chapter 49 Waiting for Ashes img
Chapter 50 The Quiet img
Chapter 51 One More Shot img
Chapter 52 The Villa img
Chapter 53 The Son img
Chapter 54 Coming Home img
Chapter 55 Her Move img
Chapter 56 The Right Decision img
Chapter 57 The Long Night img
Chapter 58 The Cafe img
Chapter 59 The Other Side img
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Chapter 5 The Final Test

The car drove through the gates and stopped. Same villa as before.

I was terrified.

Enzo got out first. I grabbed my suitcase and followed.

The front door opened before we reached it. Marco stood there, looking exactly the same as he had during the interview. Cold. Professional. In control.

"Welcome back, Jolene." He moved out of the way so we could come in.

I walked past him, dragging my suitcase behind me. The broken wheel made noise in the entrance hall.

"Leave it," Marco said, nodding at my suitcase. "Someone will take it to your room."

I let go of the handle. My hands felt empty without it.

"Follow me." Marco walked toward a different room than before. Enzo walked next to me.

I was trapped between them. Two tall men who looked at me like I was something they owned.

We entered what looked like a study. Nice desk, fancy chairs, books everywhere. There was a bar cart with expensive-looking bottles in the corner.

"Sit," Marco said, pointing at a chair.

I sat.

He walked behind his desk but didn't sit. Just stood there, looking down at me. Enzo leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Watching.

"Your job starts now," Marco said. "Not tomorrow. Now."

My mouth went dry. "Okay."

"This is your final test. Pass it, and you have the job. Fail, and the car takes you to the airport. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He gestured to the bar cart. "Pour me a whiskey. Two fingers. No ice."

I stood up and walked to the cart. My hands were shaking as I picked up a glass. I had no idea which bottle was whiskey.

"The one on the left," Enzo said from behind me.

I nearly dropped the glass. I hadn't heard him move.

He was right behind me now. Close enough that I could feel the heat from his body.

"Pour it," he said quietly.

I picked up the bottle with shaking hands. Poured what I thought was two fingers. Some spilled on the cart.

"Messy," Enzo said quietly. His hand touched my lower back. "Do it again."

"I already poured it."

"I said try again." His hand pressed harder.

I poured the whiskey back into the bottle. I tried again. This time I didn't spill.

"Better." His hand stayed on my back as I carried the glass to Marco.

Marco took it without looking at me. "Now pour one for Enzo. Scotch. Three fingers. One ice cube."

I went back to the cart. Enzo moved with me, his hand never leaving my back.

I found the scotch. Poured three fingers. Reached for the ice.

"Wrong glass," Enzo said. His other hand came up and wrapped around my wrist. "That's for whiskey. Use the shorter one."

He guided my hand to a different glass. His body was pressed against my back now. I could barely breathe.

I poured the scotch into the right glass. Added one ice cube with shaking hands.

"Good girl." His breath was warm against my ear.

I brought him the glass. He took it but didn't step back. Just smiled that smile and took a sip.

"Acceptable," he said.

Marco sat down behind his desk. "Come here."

I walked over to him.

"You'll be taking notes. Every meeting, every call, every conversation I have that matters." He pulled out a leather notebook and a pen. "Write this down: Meeting with Castellano. Tuesday. 3 PM. Location TBD."

I took the notebook and pen. Wrote it down. My handwriting looked terrible because I was nervous.

Marco looked at what I wrote. "Again. Neater this time."

I crossed it out. Wrote it again neater.

"Better." He leaned back in his chair. "You'll learn fast or you're out. Simple as that."

"Yes, sir."

"Now." Marco gestured to a stack of folders on his desk. "Organize these alphabetically. You have five minutes."

I reached for the folders. There had to be at least twenty of them.

"Four minutes and fifty seconds," Marco said, checking his watch.

I started sorting. My hands were shaking so hard I kept dropping them. Behind me, I could hear Enzo moving around. I didn't dare look.

Halfway through, Enzo appeared beside me. He picked up one of the folders I'd already sorted and moved it.

"Wrong," he said. "This one goes first."

"But that's not alphabetical."

"Are you arguing with me?" His hand landed on my hip.

"No, I just."

"Fix it."

I fixed it, even though I knew I was right.

"Three minutes," Marco said.

I worked faster. Enzo stayed next to me, his hand moving from my hip to my lower back, then higher. His fingers traced along my spine through my blouse.

"Focus, Jolene," he murmured. "Don't let me distract you."

But he was. I kept losing track of which letter came next.

"Two minutes."

I was almost done. Just three more folders.

Enzo's hand slid around to my stomach. Pressed flat against it through the fabric.

"Keep working," he said softly.

I grabbed another folder. My hands are shaking worse now.

"One minute."

I put the last folder in place just as Marco said, "Time."

He stood up and walked around the desk. I looked at my work.

"Close," he said. "But not perfect. You put Jenkins before Jimenez."

I looked. He was right. I'd messed up one.

"I'm sorry, I."

"No excuses." Marco stepped closer. He was right in front of me now. Enzo was still behind me, his hand on my stomach. "In this job, being close isn't good enough. Perfect or nothing. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Say it again."

"Perfect or nothing."

"Good." Marco's eyes dropped to where Enzo's hand rested on my stomach. "Now let's see how well you follow instructions."

My heart started pounding harder.

"Enzo," Marco said, not looking away from me. "Let her go."

Enzo's hand disappeared. I could breathe again.

Marco walked back behind his desk and sat down. "There's one more thing you need to understand about this position, Jolene."

I waited.

"Your job is to assist me in every way I require. Professional tasks, personal tasks, whatever I need." He leaned forward. "That means when I tell you to do something, you do it. No hesitation. No questions. Complete obedience."

"I understand."

"Do you?" His eyes were cold. "Because I'm about to give you an order. And how you respond will determine whether you sleep here tonight or at the airport."

The room went silent except for my heartbeat.

Marco stood up slowly. Walked around his desk. Stopped right in front of me.

"Take off your blouse."

I stared at him. My brain stopped working.

Behind me, I heard Enzo shift. Waiting.

Marco's expression didn't change. "I gave you an order, Jolene. Are you going to follow it?"

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