The Jilted Ex-Wife's Undercover Billionaire Assistant

he floor-to-ceiling windows of the

k marble that served as his desk. His fa

led overnight. It contained every financial record, t

e held out an iPad. The screen was

ck headline screamed: Barron Outcast Steals the Sh

at the gala, mocking the "cowardly" Mr. Vaughan for

fice seemed to drop ten degrees.

the silence. "Sir, should I contact PR to have

ed a hand,

raden's mouth lifted in

definition photo of Carlee. She was standing under the chan

spered, his voice thick with a strange, heavy

red. "I want to see how the Barron

uickly nodded. He stepped forward and pl

Security number, a community college transcri

pe. He scanned the fake history of waiting tabl

ousand-dollar bespoke suit jacket and t

lian silk and fine wool, reaching into the far back corner. He pulled

his fingers through his perfectly styled hair, letting several dark strands fall messily a

-lensed glasses onto his nose. The transformation was c

his cheek twitching violently at the sight of

sions go through encrypted email until further notice,"

y lit office of C.B. Designs, Carl

stack of unorganized invoices onto the desk. "We don't even hav

eyes. She thought about the valet from last night. She pulled ou

arp, polite knocks echoed against t

ow slats of the blinds, she saw a

e manila envelope in his hands. He met her eyes through

udden, hard thump. All

nd waved her hand at

cion at the massive man standing in the hallway. The cheap su

mpletely. He walked st

ope out with both hands,

duty," Braden said, flas