Chapter 6 Leon Ronnie's POV

Leon Ronnie's POV

Who put salt in the coffee? Should I regret hiring Miss Sanders?

When she came to my office for an interview, my heart already felt her pain. For a young woman, she had already experienced a very difficult life. And that day in the coffee shop, I was sure it was Chloe's fault. I knew what kind of woman Chloe was.

My grandmother taught me that when someone encounters setbacks in life, it is not wise to throw more bricks at them. On the contrary, it is wise to help them.

When I grew up, I rarely saw my parents. They are usually busy with business transactions, holidays and celebrations without me. I had always been lonely, but my grandmother took me under her wings and allowed me to grow into the man she thought I should be.

When Molly made coffee for me, I kept watching her in the kitchen. She was very slim, wearing big clothes.

Chloe was angry with her and I felt guilty for yelling at her yesterday. I just wanted her to go to bed for a rest. I couldn't bear Chloe's yelling. Even I knew Chloe had gone too far.

Today Molly gave me my coffee again, it tasted pure salt. Salt! ? She did this to me on purpose because I yelled at her yesterday? Who cared, I was the damn boss, Chloe was angry because of her. My beautiful fiancee wanted to know what kind of fool I had hired.

I continued to dress while watching her on CCTV. Was she making coffee again for herself? When I saw her spit out in the sink and rinse her mouth with water, I smiled. She stared at a bottle of milk, then poured the contents into the sink and threw away the container.

What was the problem with that milk? ? I wanted to know, but? I was a bit behind. I was ready, picked up my briefcase and went out. Chloe had left early.

Twenty-five minutes later, I reached my tower. I have two more people coming for the interview.

The knock on the door caught my attention. A tall blond woman walked in with a skirt on her knees, hugging her too tightly. The shirt she was wearing wanted to get rid of the elaborate breasts that burst out from inside. The heavy red lipstick started to sting my eyes, and her long nails made my skin crawl. All this was too much, but I still let her sit down.

"Have you had any experience in this role or similar roles before?" I asked her after telling her what I expected of my personal assistant.

"Okay." There was a smile on her red velvet lips. "I have no experience, but I am willing to learn."

She put the nib to her lips, and I clearly felt that she was flirting with me. I was not the one who mixed with some sluts just because she wanted a job. Such a woman may put you in a very dangerous situation, not a good way. They may destroy your image, tarnish your company's name, and drag you down.

"You only have thirty seconds to leave my office."

The eyes covered by thick false eyelashes opened wide in disbelief, then stood up and left.

What was the problem with these women? ? I thought about it and shook my head.

I called the next person, hoping to be a better person, but this person was worse. She had to use about 80% of plastic: her breasts, buttocks, facial features. She had a dark complexion, but she had golden braids or wigs, or whatever the long straw hat, blue lips, blue nails and blue skirt make her ugly look more ugly.

I didn't like to belittle women, but they did to themselves. You are here for an interview, not a strip club. A person should look very professional in this condition.

My fiancee was becoming one of them.

Why couldn't they look like Molly? ? No makeup, no tights, no screaming expensive clothes? But...

What are you doing, Leon? ? Why do you think of your maid? ? You hired her out of pity, nothing more.

Before she changed seats and sat down, I dismissed the second lady from the post and sorted out my thoughts. I had seen enough. I didn't care if they were more educated than the president, I just wanted them to leave my sight.

Chloe came to see me at lunch. She made her hair and sprayed my favorite perfume on her body. I immediately grabbed her lips and pulled her to the chair. When I kissed her neck, she let out a groan; when I saw a red mark, I stopped. Is that a fucking hickey?

"Why are you stopping?" she asked and started kissing me.

"What is this?" I asked, poke the place with my finger, trying to cause pain.

"Ouch, Leon! Damn it! It was bitten by a mosquito."

Mosquitoes on my ass. That was what she calls them these days.

I didn't trust her; I didn't know why I wanted to marry her. Maybe it was because my grandmother always asked me when I settled down and claimed that she wanted to have a great-grandson before she died.

I met Chloe at the fundraising event my company held in Chicago the previous year. She had been talking to my best friend Jack, then he introduced us and she has been relying on me ever since. I slept her that night, so I always asked myself if she was so easy. She said it was because of the alcohol. She would never sleep with a man unless he gave her alcohol and dinner thirty times, and there must be contact.

"Baby, we are getting married. What do you think of me?"

I gently but firmly took her off of me, grabbed my jacket, and started walking towards the door. "Let's go to lunch, I'm hungry." I said, turning my back to her.

She shook her head and followed.