My Not So Aloof Billionaire

Days had blended into an unending cycle of job applications, rejection emails, and mounting deb

ction email had arrived that morning, curtly informing her that the position had been filled by someone more "qualified." She scoffed a

he man in the crisp suit until she collided with him. Papers flew f

re going?" he snapped, his

ut today was different. Today, she had reached her limit. "If you equally watched where you

his eyes narrowing with disdain. Ira, sensing an unnecessary escalation and not wanting to add more

pleasant note in the symphony of her worries. As she continued down the street, she couldn't help but replay the interaction in her mind.

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r prison. The worn-out couch and the cluttered kitchen table were stark reminders of her financial struggles. She dropped her bag

s, credit card statements, and rejection letters from jobs she had applied to. The weight of her fi

t. Ira buried her face in her hands, feeling the sting of tears. She needed to find a job, any job, to help alleviate he

a peculiar ad caught her eye. It was for a personal assistant position, but the requirements were vague. The ad promised a sub

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application for the personal assistant job, and now all she could do was wait. She d

bustled about, each seemingly with a purpose. Ira envied them, their confidence and di

e had irked her, but a part of her couldn't help but wonder who he was. In a city this s

r phone ringing. She fumbled to answer it, her he

er voice tinged with bot

?" a pleasant fe

this i

your application for the personal assistant position and wo

pt. "Thank you!

She spent the rest of the day preparing, her thoughts a mix of excitement and nervousness. She picked out her best outf

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f awe and intimidation. The building was a stark contrast to her own humble apartment, exuding an air o

esperately needed. She couldn't afford to mess this up. When her name was finally called, she stood up,

eginning of an unexpected journey, one that would ch