Bethrothed to the Mafia

Arrogant, obnoxious, elusive, snobbish!!! Splattered on the front page of every single newspaper and tabloid once again.

Daniel fumed as he read through this morning's gossip page. How wrong could they be? Who was fueling this? He had to get to the root of this before it cost him everything he had worked for. Everything he had almost lost his life getting, and would go to the deepest depths to protect. He even proposed to the social climber who was betrothed to him in the strength of friendship of his dad with his old friend. Damn the old man!

Crystel was her name! Crystel Arianna Simmons! After his dad's unexpected demise, his lawyer, Bard, informed Daniel of the clause in the will, which involved marrying the chit to access his inheritance within 3 years. Daniel couldn't let his father's hard-earned wealth go to charity because he refused to marry a woman.

And though beautiful, the chit was giving him a run for his money, spending cash faster than he could fathom. For this reason, he delayed marriage as much as possible, trying to find a way out since he didn't need a wife. He hadn't needed one before, and especially not now. He was raised by his nannies after his mom abandoned him as a kid. And for some reason, his dad never remarried or brought women home, though Daniel wished for the love of a mother.

Once he overheard his dad telling a friend he still thought of a woman, but she was married with twin daughters. The pain in his father's voice had ached the young boy's heart, who wondered how hard love was and why she didn't return his emotions.

Lost in his thoughts, a voice jolted him out of reality to the odd woman in front of him.

"Excuse me, sir," Ari said, losing her accent for a while. She had been shown into the office ten minutes ago, but her new boss hadn't said a word to her. Instead, he stared at her, like he was perusing the pages of a magazine, making her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

What hole had she crept out of wearing those unusual clothes? Daniel thought. And did she think the 14th-century glasses made her look any prettier? And to make things worse, why couldn't she just look him in the face instead of squeaming in her seat like a scrawny mouse ready to leap? After the scene Arianna made the last time with his last personal assistant, Stella, he let her go and put an order not to let Arianna into the company. Oh! The tabloids had spoken about it for days unending. She insisted he call her Crystel, but he loved the name Arianna, and it stuck. She wasn't happy about it, but he had to keep her with a firm hand.

For some reason, on he couldn't put his finger on, there was a sense of deja vu-vu. The woman seated across from him was like a mysterious book, with an unusual sense of familiarity. But giving her a once-over, nothing in the world would have made them meet in the past. Not his businesses and certainly not his personal life.

But the dilemma he was facing had put him on edge. Someone was spreading rumors, and he couldn't let that continue as time was running out. So here he was, the elusive multi-billionaire Danielle Devaras, at a crossroads while in desperate need of a personal assistant.

"Good morning, Miss Rosalinda. I see you are the final candidate for my assistant position."