“I said it, Gunther he's working for someone he wants to go and submit that Record to his boss” Jane said to Gunther. Gunther nodded, showing he agreed, but he also looked worried. "It's obvious he's not doing this all by himself. There's someone else controlling things secretly," he said, sounding frustrated Jane sighed, running a hand through her hair as she contemplated their next move. "We need to figure out who he's working for and what their endgame is," she replied, her mind already racing with possibilities. "But first, we need to ensure that those financial records don't fall into the wrong hands, We need to play along for now, but we also need to gather more information about Clinton's connections and his intentions," she replied, her voice steady despite the frustration evident in her tone. Gunther sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "But how do we do that without tipping our hand? We can't risk alerting whoever is behind this," he pointed out, his bro
Where is the current balance? I ask you again, all these games you're playing might profit us in the future but right now it's first things first, I have to stick to my earlier drafted plan. As Clinton scanned through the documents once more, his heart began to race. The absence of the balance sheet was like a glaring gap in the financial report, one that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed facade of competence. Mr. Shawn watched him intently, his expression unreadable. "Is there a problem, Clinton? You seemed quite confident earlier." Clinton's mind raced as he struggled to come up with an explanation. "Ah, well, you see, Mr. Shawn, it appears there's been a slight oversight in the preparation of these documents. But rest assured, I'll have my team rectify the issue immediately. It's just a minor hiccup, nothing to worry about." But even as he spoke, doubts gnawed at him. How could he explain away such a glaring omission? And what if Mr. Shawn decided to delve deeper i
Debra nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I will," she promised. "And thank you again, Gunther, for everything – you've been my guardian angel today."Jane and Gunther arrived at Jane's home, Jane had told Gunther to type his CV and print it out, As Gunther sat in front of the computer, his fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating before beginning to type. Each keystroke felt like a betrayal of everything he had ever known – the wealth, the power, the legacy of his father. How could he, the heir to a vast fortune, be reduced to crafting a CV for a man who had schemed his way into control of his family's company?But as he stared at the blank screen, Gunther realized that this was no ordinary task. It was a test of his endurance, his adaptability, and his determination to reclaim what was rightfully his. With a deep breath, he began to type, each word a testament to his strength and his unwavering resolve.Meanwhile, Jane watched from across the room, her gaze
Gunther walked into Clinton's office, you could and slowly went towards the desk, feeling angry because he was about to talk to the person who could decide what happens next in his life."Sir," Gunther began, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness as he held out his CV. "I just wanted to submit my application for the position of your Personal Assistant."Clinton glanced up from his work, his expression inscrutable as he regarded Gunther with a steely gaze. "Drop it on the desk and leave," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.Gunther paused, feeling the quietness lingering between them, almost like a tight rope. Finally, he gave a nod of acceptance, placing the paper gently on the shiny desk before walking out of the room.Clinton looked a bit annoyed when someone interrupted his talk with Gunther. He shifted his focus to the financial secretary, showing a bit of irritation because this interruption wasn't expected."Who is it?" Clinton asked, his voice tinged with impatienc
Jane's expression remained composed, but beneath the surface, she bristled at Clinton's insinuation. "Rest assured, my relationship with Mr. Drake is purely professional," she replied coolly. "We've collaborated on several projects in the past, and he values my expertise in the industry."Clinton nodded, though a hint of skepticism was visible in his eyes. He still felt that there was more to Jane's connection with Mr. Drake than she was letting on. Nevertheless, he chose to table his suspicions for the time being, knowing that there were more pressing matters at hand.Finally, the familiar ping of an incoming email broke the silence, and Jane's eyes lit up as she opened the attachment. "Here it is," she announced, her voice tinged with satisfaction as she turned the laptop screen toward Clinton. "The total current balance of the company, as requested."Clinton leaned in to examine the document, his brow furrowing slightly as he scanned the figures. "Hmm, seems to be in order," he rem
Clinton nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information as he processed the implications of such a substantial salary. For a brief moment, Jane caught a glimpse of uncertainty flickering in his eyes, a fleeting crack in the facade of confidence he had meticulously cultivated. It was a small victory, but Jane knew that every chink in his armor brought her one step closer to her ultimate goal."Thank you for the clarification, Jane," Clinton said, his voice tinged with a hint of begrudging respect. "I'll take that into consideration as I review the applications for the position.""The role of a personal assistant encompasses a wide range of responsibilities, from managing schedules and appointments to handling correspondence and administrative tasks," Jane explained patiently. "It's a crucial position that supports the smooth functioning of the executive's office and ensures that their time is utilized efficiently."She paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully before continuing
Clinton was mostly thinking about having control and influence.Jane's mafia team became anxious, feeling more and more excited as time went on. They were eager to carry out their mission quickly, and their determination was strong despite their growing impatience. With fierce loyalty to their goal, they were prepared to bring chaos to Mr. Shawn's calm home.Eight figures shrouded in darkness, their identities concealed by the veil of the night, formed a silent vanguard poised to strike. Among them, three hardened veterans, their faces obscured by masks of determination, shouldered the weight of their weapons with a grim resolve. Behind them, the remaining five members, equally committed to their cause, awaited the signal to unleash their fury upon the unsuspecting target.As the clock continued its relentless march forward, the tension reached a fever pitch, a palpable electricity crackling through the air like the distant rumble of an impending storm. With a silent nod from their le
As they reached the summit of the fence, their eyes widened as they were surprised and in disbelief as at whtithey saw.The three men responsible for the barrage of bullets that had besieged their fortress-like mansion stood before them, their faces obscured by masks of anonymity. With no insignia or identifying marks to distinguish them, it was clear that they did not belong to any recognized law enforcement agency.A tense silence hung in the air as Mr. Shawn's enforcers exchanged wary glances, their minds racing with the implications of the discovery they had made. In the face of such brazen aggression, they knew that they could ill afford to underestimate their adversaries, whoever they may be.Meanwhile, on the other side of the fence, Jane's mafia crew observed the unfolding scene with a cool detachment, their weapons poised and ready to strike at a moment's notice. Though they had spotted Mr. Shawn's enforcers scaling the fence, they held their fire as per Jane's instructions,