Chapter 5 THE FIRST TASK

The buzzing sound of the intercom startled her,

cutting through the silence like a blade.

"Ms. David. My office. Now."

Viva jolted upright, nearly dropping the phone she hadn't even gotten a chance to find her voice. The faint "Hello?" had barely escaped her lips before she snapped her mouth shut.

She had just placed her bag down, hadn't even sat to admire her new desk-and now she was being summoned again.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she rushed back, mentally cursing the day and its chaotic start.

As she stepped into Damon's office, the storm hit.

"In my entire life, David,"

he said, standing near his desk with the offending cup in hand, "I have never tasted coffee this bad. Cold. Bitter. And unfiltered. Where exactly are you from?"

She stiffened. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll fix-"

"Hell no. There's no time for that,"

he snapped, cutting her off. "We have a meeting with the media house editor in ten minutes."

Her stomach dropped. "Media house?" she repeated, eyes widening.

"David," he said slowly, clearly losing patience, "I hate repeating myself. I'm sure you're not slow... right?"

She forced a tight-lipped smile. "No, sir."

"Never come into my office without a Post-it and pen," he continued, as if it were a commandment. "You are not here to decorate space."

"Right," she echoed.

"And for God's sake-learn to make a cup of coffee."

He shoved a thick bunch of files across the desk toward her. Viva scrambled to catch them before they slid off.

"You have five minutes. Read these. Prep me. Come up with possible questions and answers for the meeting."

She blinked. "Will that be all, sir?"

"You don't get to ask me questions, Ms. David."

"Noted," she muttered, hugging the files to her chest as she turned to leave.

Her heels wobbled under her steps-damn nerves-and she cursed the stilettos that now felt like torture devices. Still, she held her head high.

"David," he called again.

She turned around, trying not to flinch.

"The sound of your heels... irks me."

Her mouth parted, but she said nothing.

He reached into his drawer and pulled out a black card, sliding it across the table like a dealer in a high-stakes game.

"From the look of things, those heels are about to snap, and I would not have my assistant embarrassing me in front of important people, if your reputation doesn't bother you , mine does. so, do well to Change them, and don't spent the entire time shopping, we have a lot of work to do."

She stared at the card, then at him.

He didn't smirk. He didn't blink.

He meant it, he was serious as a heart attack, Goldie was weird, but this man was nuts

****************************SUPER POWERED VIVA*****************************************

Stepping out of his office, Viva didn't breathe-she texted.

EMERGENCY.I need a new pair of sophisticated shoes in less than 5 minutes. Pleeeeeeeease. My life depends on it. I got his card.

Lilly replied instantly:

Awwwn. Look at you. Shopping with your baby daddy's money.

Never pegged you for a gold digger, Viva.

"Lilly, I'm serious!" Viva typed, practically shaking. "I don't have time. Just get it done. I'll owe you."

"I'll be there. Don't die."

Viva let out a breath and looked around. She had five minutes. Just five.

"Come on now, Viva," she whispered to herself, "this is your photographic memory's time to shine."

She dropped the files on a small table and dove in.

The pages blurred-stats, press history, old interviews-but none of it made any sense. So she pulled out her phone and started googling. Fast.

Names. Faces. Backgrounds. Past controversies.

Her Post-its began filling up like battle plans-questions, answers, trigger phrases, tactics. Her hand moved like it had a mind of its own.

This was her superpower.

And Damon Adams? He was going to regret ever calling her slow.

Just in time, the intercom buzzed.

"Ms. David."

She stood, straightened her gown, grabbed her notes, and stepped back into his office.

Damon didn't look up from his phone. "Alright, Ms. David. Tell me what you got."

She took a step forward, voice steady now. "Sir. Ms. Susan David is known to twist narratives and feed blogs whatever they want to hear. The goal is not to beat her at her own game-it's to stay ahead."

He looked up. Finally. Interest flickering in those cold eyes.

"Start with a joke," Viva continued. "Something light. Human. But brief. Keep your answers short and straight-forward. She thrives on chaos-anything can be a trigger."

She placed her stack of Post-its neatly on his desk.

"Possible questions," she said, tapping one. "Including personal rumors, scandals, and company controversies. I prepped redirect statements too."

He stared at the notes. Then at her.

Viva caught it-the flicker. He was impressed. And trying not to show it.

She had him right where she wanted.

"And sir," she added smoothly, "if she asks about your personal life-don't indulge. Be firm. Any carelessness is fuel for her. She turns the smallest comment into headlines."

He leaned back, arms crossed, watching her like she was a riddle he hadn't solved yet.

"Focus on the company's achievements, vision, and growth," Viva said. "But throw in a flaw. A calculated one. Something real. It makes you relatable. Strong."

Damon was silent for a beat too long.

Then his gaze dropped to her feet.

" and Your shoes?" he asked flatly, ignoring all other points she scored.

She smiled, cool and effortless. "They'll be here just before the meeting, sir."

*******************************RAT CHASE*********************************************

Damon slid a sleek black card across the table toward her. "Go check if the conference hall is free-we're holding the interview there. Thirteenth floor. Don't get lost."

Just then, her phone beeped.

He didn't even flinch-he snapped. His eyes cut sharply to her.

"Seems you have a very active social life. Texts. Calls. Are you some kind of influencer?"

"No, sir," Viva stammered, trying to silence the screen fast. "It's... about the shoes."

"Whatever it is-when you're in this office, the last thing I want to hear is your phone buzzing."

She nodded quickly and backed out of the room, already digging out her phone.

Lilly:

Girl, I'm here. I can't get past security. You need to come get it!

"Oh no..."

Viva groaned. There was no time to do both-check the hall and get the shoes. She'd already wasted precious minutes.

She raced toward the elevator-just in time to see the doors close. Full. Of course.

Seconds ticked by. A minute. Two.

"Come on, come on, come on..."

Finally, the elevator returned. She bolted downstairs, found Lilly waving like a frantic stylist, and grabbed the bag.

"Hey! Slow down!" Lilly shouted after her. "You're gonna twist an ankle-"

"No time!"

********************************JOKES ON YOU VIVA********************************************

Viva sprinted back inside, ignoring the stares from employees who clearly thought she was not okay. Her heels clacked with fury as she ran up the corridor of LD Tech-past employees pictures, coffee carts, and confused interns.

She reached the 13th floor.

And froze.

Damon was already there. His back was straight, arms folded, expression murderous. And standing beside him, lips already curled in amusement- Ms. Susan David herself.

"So glad you could finally join us, Ms. David," Damon said coolly.

Then, turning to Susan:

"Seems my assistant and you not only share a last name... but a habit of being fashionably late."

Susan chuckled like a cat who caught a bird mid-hop, "c' mon now Damon, I already apologized"

"There you go, Viva," Viva murmured to herself "You're the joke he needed to lighten the mood."

Viva bowed slightly. "Apologies," she said breathlessly, scanning the card against the panel.

The conference hall doors slid open with a soft chime.

And what greeted them?

Grandeur.

Golden lighting. Velvet chairs. A long glass table that gleamed like a lake under the moon. Panoramic windows framing the skyline like art.

She held the door open for them, her pulse still racing.

Okay, Viva, she told herself. You made it. You're late, sweaty, and possibly dying inside-but you made it.

As they took their seats in the grand conference hall, Damon leaned into his chair, his voice suddenly softer, smoother.

"Susan," he said with a half-smile, "you look even better than the last time we met. Are you sure you're here to interview me, or just to make me nervous?"

Susan's red lips curled up as she laughed. "You flatter me, Damon. But I never get nervous. You, on the other hand..."

Their playful banter rolled back and forth like a private joke. Viva sat beside them, posture straight, pen clutched in her hand-watching, smiling politely. But inside, she felt a strange pull of irritation. Damon's charm came alive around Susan in a way that was just... too much. She shook it off, keeping her cool.

The interview began.

Susan asked her questions with sharpness and grace. Damon answered with practiced ease-calm, poised, confident. He spoke like a man who knew every inch of his empire and wasn't afraid to show it. Viva couldn't deny it-he was built for this life.

Until-

The doors creaked open.

A new voice cut through the room like silk laced with venom.

"Well, well, well. Susan, don't you think it's a little unfair to grant my brother an interview... and not me?"

Everyone turned.

"Leo," Damon muttered, the composure on his face slipping fast.

Leo strutted in with the smirk of a man who knew he wasn't welcome and didn't care. "It makes me a little... what's the word... upset. I'm a CEO too, after all."

Damon stiffened, suddenly reduced from king to flustered little brother.

Viva's instincts kicked in. She couldn't let this spiral. She wouldn't.

"Erm, sir," Viva said quickly, rising a little from her chair, "this was an impromptu session. Not exactly planned. I'm sure Ms. Susan would be happy to schedule something more fitting for you at another time."

She glanced at Damon for backup. He caught on immediately.

"Of course, brother," Damon added smoothly. "Either of us can represent the company. I just happened to be available. That's all."

Leo's eyes shifted to Viva, cold and curious.

"And who are you again?"

"Viva. Vivian May David," she replied, standing her ground.

He scoffed, uninterested. "Whatever." With a dismissive wave, he turned and walked out.

The tension remained, thick in the room.

Viva turned to Susan with a small, practiced smile. "Mr. Leo and Mr. Damon tend to prank each other like this. Brothers, you know? I assume you have siblings too-a brother, maybe? You must pull these kinds of tricks on each other."

Susan raised a brow, but let out a dry laugh. "I guess," she said. Then her expression turned sharp. "But Viva... Damon and I go way back. This interview is a friendly one. You don't need to patronize me."

The air dropped a few degrees.

"And I don't appreciate people digging into my personal life."

She closed her notepad with a sharp snap.

"I'll see you around, D."

She stood, heels clicking dramatically as she exited the room, her perfume trailing after her like the echo of a storm.

Viva exhaled-slow, measured.

Damon? Silent.

His eyes weren't on Susan.

They were on Viva.