Cynthia Rivera sprawled across the couch, arms crossed and face turned away from Tristan Davis in a dramatic, sulky huff. "I'm not leaving."

Tristan didn't bother arguing. "Fine. If you won't go, I'll just have someone carry you out."

Cynthia smacked the armrest, her wide eyes brimming with disbelief and a hint of wounded pride. “You wouldn't dare!”

Ignoring her outburst, Tristan picked up his phone and unlocked the screen.

Cynthia's eyes narrowed. "Are you seriously about to call security on me?" Tristan said nothing, his expression cold as he tapped at his phone.

Realizing he wasn't bluffing, Cynthia immediately flopped flat on the couch, clutching a throw pillow and wailing dramatically. "I'm not leaving! I told you, I'm not going anywhere. Even if you throw me out, I'll just come back!"

Her cries echoed through the room until she squinted over at Tristan. He had his phone pressed to his ear.

Panic rising, she grabbed the pillow and hurled it at him.

Tristan dodged with a frown, letting the pillow thud harmlessly to the floor, then shot her a sharp, icy glare.

The look made Cynthia's heart skip. Tears welled up and spilled over as her voice trembled. “Tristan, don't be like this. I haven't done anything wrong, so why are you treating me this way? If you keep picking on me, I'll just go to headquarters and tell Steven Davis! He's the one who sent me here, you know. His secretary is already handling my onboarding. There's nothing you can do to stop it."

Unmoved, Tristan quietly spoke into the phone.

"Yeah, she's here... No, send her back."

Cynthia sat up and rushed over, latching onto his arm, her tone turning pleading and sweet. “Tristan, just let me stay and be your assistant, will you? I graduated from a top university abroad-my credentials are more than enough. And we grew up together! I know you better than any other assistant ever could.”

Tristan pulled his arm free, frowning, then slipped his hand into his pocket and strode to the floor-to-ceiling window, turning his back on her.

He continued his call, never sparing her a glance.

Cynthia bit her lip hard, feeling more wronged than ever.

Tristan listened to the frustrated voice on the other end, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. “Grandpa, you know I can't keep her around. The assistant position is out of the quest―"

"I don't care. It's not a big deal. If Cynthia wants to be your assistant, so be it—it's not like it's some critical post. I've already had someone take care of it. The announcement will be up on the company portal soon. Don't give Cynthia a hard time. And if she complains to me, I'll come set you straight myself."

With that, Steven Davis hung up.

Tristan closed his eyes, jaw tight with frustration.

The silence stretched. Cynthia, hovering behind him, grew more anxious by the second.

She sniffled. “Tristan, please tell the security guys to leave. Don't let those big guys rough me up—I'd be scared."

Clutching the edge of the sofa, she watched him warily. "Tristan, say something. Don't just ignore me."

Tristan finally put his phone away and sat behind his desk, pulling up the company intranet.

There it was, fresh and official: an announcement declaring Cynthia Rivera as the new Assistant to the Deputy Director of the Programming Division, complete with the company stamp no mistaking it.

He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

Cynthia tiptoed over, peeking eagerly at his screen. When she saw her name, her eyes lit up. She jabbed a finger at the monitor, grinning. "That's me! I'm in!"