Chapter 4 THE NIGHTINGALE FILE

THE DEVIL BILLIONAIRE PERSONAL ASSISTANT

(Life take turns)

Chapter 3

Emily stared at the email notification. "Shadow Wolf?"

The words echoed the cryptic entry in Oliver's chaotic schedule. Her fingers hovered over the mouse, a strange mix of apprehension and morbid curiosity bubbling within her. This was definitely outside the realm of quarterly reports and budget forecasts.

Taking a deep breath, she clicked on the email. It was short and to the point:

---

Subject: Shadow Wolf

Location: The Obsidian Lounge, The Serpent & Quill Hotel

Time: Tonight, 9:00 PM

Dress Code: Discreet Elegance

Note: Bring the Nightingale file

---

The Nightingale file? what's that??. Emily frantically searched through Oliver's digital files, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

After a tense few minutes, she located a heavily encrypted folder labeled "Nightingale." Attempting to open it prompted a request for a password. Frustration mounted. How was she supposed to prepare for a lunch meeting and decode this cryptic rendezvous with a "Shadow Wolf" without any context?

This wasn't just stepping into the lion's den; it felt like being thrown into a spy thriller.

Just then, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Joyce:

Hey! How's the fancy Beverly Hills gig going? Spill the tea! ☕ Did you meet the Devil himself yet? 😉

Despite the mounting stress, Emily smiled. Joyce's enthusiasm was a small ray of sunshine in the bizarre situation.

It's... interesting, to say the least. Yes, I met him. And his very... elegant associate,. More later! Wish me luck for lunch. 😅

She quickly typed back before returning to the enigma of the Nightingale file. Maybe Eleanor could help with the password. But first, she had a lunch meeting to prepare for.

The meeting details were more straightforward, detailing a potential merger with a tech startup. Emily meticulously organized the financial projections and key personnel profiles, her finance background proving useful. By 12:15 PM, she had a neat folder ready.

As she stood to leave her office, a sudden craving hit her: lemon drizzle cake. The disastrous image of Joyce's "puddle" flashed in her mind, making her chuckle. Maybe she'd bake one herself this weekend-a proper one, not a culinary catastrophe.

She walked to Oliver's study and knocked lightly.

"Enter," his deep voice commanded. He was on a call, gesturing for her to wait. Emily observed him, a strange mix of curiosity and trepidation swirling within her. Up close, the intensity of his green eyes was even more striking.

He exuded an undeniable aura of power, but there was also a weariness in the lines around his eyes that hinted at a life far more complex than the tabloids portrayed.

He ended the call and turned his attention to her, his gaze sharp and assessing.

"The documents?"

"Here, Mr. Williams," Emily said, handing him the folder.

He quickly scanned the contents, his brow furrowing slightly before relaxing. "Efficient. Good."

A flicker of something akin to approval crossed his face, and Emily felt a tiny spark of satisfaction. Maybe she could navigate this after all.

"You will accompany me," he stated, standing up. "Vivienne has another engagement."

Emily nodded, following him out of the study. As they walked through the opulent mansion, she couldn't help but feel like Alice tumbling down a very expensive rabbit hole.

The sleek black car that had brought her earlier was waiting. The chauffeur opened the door, and Oliver gestured for her to enter first. The gesture was unexpected, a small crack in his otherwise formidable exterior.

The drive to the restaurant was silent. Emily stole glances at Oliver, who was now engrossed in his phone. He seemed completely oblivious to her presence, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being constantly observed.

The restaurant was an exclusive establishment, hushed and elegant. The maître d' greeted Oliver by name and led them to a secluded table. As they settled in, Emily felt a wave of nervousness. This was her first real interaction with him outside of the initial, rather intimidating, introduction.

"So, Miss Chen," Oliver began, putting down his phone. His gaze was direct, making Emily's heart flutter slightly despite herself. "My mother seems to think you possess certain... qualities that make you suitable for this temporary role."

Emily met his gaze, trying to project confidence. "I am organized, efficient, and I pay attention to detail, Mr. Williams. I am also discreet."

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "Discretion. A valuable commodity in my world. Tell me, Miss Chen, what are your impressions so far?"

Emily hesitated for a moment. Should she be completely honest? "It is... certainly different from my usual responsibilities, Mr. Williams. There seems to be a level of... ambiguity that I am still trying to understand."

He chuckled softly, a surprisingly warm sound. "Ambiguity is often a deliberate tool, Miss Chen. It keeps things... interesting."

His eyes held a glint that Emily couldn't quite decipher. Was he testing her?

The waiter arrived, and they ordered. As they waited for their food, Oliver asked her a few more questions about her background and her work at WD financial inc. Emily found herself surprisingly at ease, answering honestly and directly. There was a sharp intelligence behind his probing questions, but also a hint of something else... curiosity?

"And why did you agree to this reassignment, Miss Chen?" he asked, his gaze intense.

Emily hesitated. She couldn't exactly tell him that his mother had practically ambushed her in the parking lot.

"I saw it as a new challenge, Mr. Williams. An opportunity to broaden my skills and contribute in a different capacity."

He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "A challenge. Interesting. Be careful what you wish for, Miss Chen. Challenges in my world can be... demanding."

Their food arrived, and the conversation shifted to the merger proposal. Emily found herself contributing more than she expected, her financial insights proving valuable. Oliver listened attentively, occasionally asking pointed questions that revealed his sharp business acumen.

As the lunch concluded, Emily felt a strange mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. She had survived her first real encounter with Oliver Williams. He was intimidating, yes, but also surprisingly engaging. And beneath the layers of his formidable persona, she had glimpsed something... intriguing.

Back at the mansion, Emily decided to tackle the mystery of the Nightingale file. She found Eleanor dusting in the hallway.

"Eleanor, do you happen to know the password for Mr. Williams's encrypted files?" Emily asked casually.

Eleanor's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, Miss Chen, I wouldn't know that. Mr. Williams keeps those things very private."

Emily sighed internally. Of course.

"However," Eleanor continued, a thoughtful look on her face, "I did overhear Mrs. Williams mentioning something about a... favorite song from his childhood? A lullaby, perhaps?"

A lullaby? That seemed unlikely for a ruthless billionaire. But it was the only lead she had. Back in her office, Emily racked her brain. Childhood lullabies... What could it be? She tried a few common ones, but none worked.

Then, she remembered something Mrs. Williams had mentioned in their brief conversation – Oliver's late grandmother, who had apparently been a significant figure in his early life.

Could it be a song she used to sing to him? It was a long shot, but Emily decided to try a search.

After several attempts, she stumbled upon an old blog post discussing traditional lullabies from a specific region in Europe – the same region where Oliver's grandmother had reportedly come from. One title stood out: "

"Nightingale's Serenade."