QUINN
"Quinn, Quinn, have you listened to a single word I've said?" My father's booming voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
I looked at him dumbfounded. Theo Harper — short for Theophilus— was a man everyone knew. He made his money through architecture for the most part. My father had opened his architectural firm when he was no less than thirty years of age. It was a massive achievement on his part — coming from a family with no wealth and rising to someone who had money spewing out of his ears. He had completely forgotten his roots though, letting money go to his head.
I blinked once, then twice before nodding my head, "I heard you but why do I have to do this, can you not get someone else?"
"There is no one I trust more than you," my father said pointedly, his gruff voice could send shivers of fear through anyone, it didn't matter who you were, "if he wants to play dirty then I can too. He's been stealing my clients for far too long, Ladybug. I request your help. I'm not demanding it."
Ladybug. My father had referred to me as such from the time I could remember. When I was a little girl all I use to do was sit in the garden the entire day and watch the ladybugs crawl on the beautiful yet fragile petals of the multiple flowers.
"I had plans for this coming year. Go to college, start a new life, make friends. You know, the usual stuff eighteen-year-olds have planned when they graduate from high school," I whined with good reason. This was too much, it was all too much.
"I know, Ladybug," my father rounded his table with a tight-lipped smile. His home office wasn't much. A dark room with a desk, chair, and many filing cabinets stacked with blueprints of every project he had ever done. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he gave them a gentle squeeze, "He doesn't know you, it will be easy for you to gain access to all his secrets."
"I bet there will be plenty of people more qualified than me for the position, father. Being his assistant isn't an easy feat," that was the God honest truth. The man had gone through three assistants in the past month — or so I had heard. All of which were actually qualified for the job. I heard him to be a rude and ruthless man who cared little for everyone else around him.
He was my father but the younger version.
"Don't you worry about that, I've taken care of everything. You just need to be the perfect assistant so he doesn't get rid of you in two days. You need to last, gain his trust, and then learn everything you can. Any secret you find out to bring him down, you immediately tell me. This will all be over soon and you can continue your life after as if all this had never happened."
I sighed, knowing that it would be better to just go along with father's plan. If he said it would be over soon then he was probably right. Everyone knew arguing with the man was futile, "Fine, I'll do it but that doesn't mean I'm not going to complain about it the first chance I get."
"I wouldn't expect anything less," my father chuckled dryly, "for this to work you're going to need an apartment of your own. He should not know who you really are. You will keep your distance from your mother and me and try not to contact your brother. The shit finds himself on the front page of every gossip magazine weekly. We don't need your face being splashed on those covers along with his."
My brother — Daniel Harper or as I liked to call him, Danny — was the complete opposite of me. He was elder than me and still lacked the maturity that accompanied his age. Danny grew up in the public eye and, just to piss dad off, did everything he was strictly told not to. That resulted in many bad articles being written about us and father losing many clients. Those clients were instantly scooped up by Astor Architecture.
"As you wish father," I nodded curtly, showing disinterest would piss him off.
"Thank you, Ladybug," he smiled in satisfaction, "I will organize your resume and that apartment. Clothes and a new cell will be given to you as well. You will not be known as Quinn Harper for the next few months. Make sure to remember that."
"What will I be known as then?" I quizzed with a risen brow.
My father strolled over to his desk, picked up a manilla envelope, and then presented it to me with pride shimmering in his deep blue eyes — eyes I shared in common with him. I opened the envelope and offloaded its contents into my palm. It was everything I needed to assume a new identity.
I skimmed over the driver's license, pausing at the name printed, "Daniella Quinzel."
"Thought I should at least keep it close to home in case there's a slip-up," he said. He truly did think of everything. As I said before, my father made his money through architecture for the most part but everyone knew you didn't get onto Wall Street by keeping your hands clean. Or maybe you did because they hired others to do their dirty work. They outsourced. Right now, my father was doing the same.
"Alright. When do I need to be ready?" I clutched the documents holding my new identity to my chest.
"In two days. I will prep you for the interview. All you have to do is turn on your charm, Ladybug," he patted my cheek, "but keep in mind, don't get yourself attached. He's not going to know the real you, only the you I want you to show him."
"Father!" I squeaked, appalled by his insinuation, "I'm only going to get information. Nothing further. There will be no reason for me to become attached."
His evil grin had me internally groaning, "That's my girl."
QUINNEntering my apartment, I made sure that my double locks were on. When my father told me he would be getting me an apartment I had not expected said apartment to be in the Bronx. However, I had to play the part of a struggling teenager trying to get a job. Unlike other teens, I wasn't working in a coffee shop as a barista or a book store — a place I'd much rather be. No, I was the overachieving eighteen-year-old trying to pull off being the personal assistant to one of the biggest dickheads in the history of dickheads.My dad truly did have everything planned out for the day of my interview. He paid every person attending to leave, which left me as the only option to be chosen. Gunnar wasn't all too happy with that. My interview went to shit as well. It was one thing practicing in front of my father and a completely different thing when in front of Gunnar Astor. He wasn't only a brooding, arrogant, billionaire CEO but
QUINN"Miss Quinzel!" Came the booming voice of my wonderful boss, Gunnar Astor. He had just gotten off the phone with Asher which put him in a foul mood.I flinched, nearly spilling the hot coffee I was about to sip on. Everyone on the floor looked at me with sympathy glazing over their eyes. They all knew not to come within a mile radius of Gunnar when he was in this state. Unfortunately, I couldn't duck for cover like the rest. I had to face the raging storm head-on and hope it didn't eat me up and spit me out before I had the chance to say one word.With a sigh, I placed my coffee onto the table and covered it with a coaster. I wasn't paranoid but growing up with a brother like mine taught me not to leave things unattended, or at least not to leave them open. Rising to my feet, I ran a hand over the soft material of the blue dress I wore to smooth out the creases. One of Gunnar's many issues was people no
QUINNQ. That was what I requested everyone to call me. They attempted to call me Daniella but I was never responsive when they did. I still wasn't used to the name. They even tried calling me Danny which made me cringe. It reminded me too much of my brother. So, I told them to call me Q - since my last name was meant to be Quinzel. Father did one thing right. Q was something I actually responded to since my brother had called me that since birth."Q, you can't let him use you as his verbal punching bag or as a literal one. I swear, if he touches a single hair on your body he's a dead man," my brother made a sound at the back of his throat that sounded awfully similar to a growl. His protective instincts always controlled him, "what if that mug had hit you? What would you have done?"I looked at my twenty-eight-year-old brother on the screen of my laptop, thinking over his question. He looked a lot like our f
QUINN "Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" I exasperated, hopping on one foot while I tried to fit my other foot into my black heeled pumps, "He's going to kill me dead!" Venus gave me that look, the one that looked as if she were raising a condescending eyebrow at me and then barked, sitting down on her hind legs and watching me intently. "Don't look at me like that," I chastised, finally getting the shoe on. Squaring my shoulders, I ran a hand down the maroon dress I wore and sighed, "I'm not being dramatic. This asswipe could kill me and bring me back to life if he wished. I have a feeling he and the devil are tight as—" I paused, looking at my corgi's perked ears, "well, they're tight, let's leave it at that." She barked again, padding her way out of the room so she could get to her food bowl in the kitchen. I was exhausted. When I didn't want to sleep, it came easily but when I was in
GUNNARA woman who hadn't raised her voice or spoken out of line to me during her two months of working here somehow managed to tell me off and storm out of my office, leaving me flabbergasted. The day she came for her interview was the day I knew I would hate the stupid girl. Because she was exactly that, a girl. An eighteen-year-old girl, fresh out of high school who wanted to be my PA. And as luck would have it, no one else wanted the position so I had no choice but to hire her.Two months down the line and she was still here. Besides Katie, she was the only girl that lasted this long. Everyone else quit in a matter of days, maybe two weeks at most. I had a temper, that wasn't unknown to anyone. Taking out my anger on the first person I saw was generally the way I dealt with that temper. And the first person I usually saw was always my assistant who all happened to be girls that could not handle me.I thou
QUINN"No way!" I gagged to emphasize how disgusted I was by my mother's selection of dress and mask for the ball. The world would have to be ending for me to wear the nasty pink, girly frock she picked out and my brother was right, the mask was way too revealing, "Mom, how about I pick something to wear."She narrowed her blue eyes in on me. My mother's blue eyes were much different from mine. Her's held a green hue around the pupil before subtly fading into a murky blue, "You better not use this as an excuse to back out of the ball." She warned in her pixie voice which I couldn't take seriously.My mom was short and adorable in all sense of the words. Her strawberry blonde hair was cropped short and left in natural waves, and her button nose and pouty lips made her look like she belonged on a cast of Tinkerbell. She had laugh lines etched along with the corners of her lips which was expected since she was a
QUINNI wiggled my way into the skirt of the white two-piece I chose to wear. The top was a sleeveless turtle neck, embellished with silver lace appliqués. Only a sliver of my tummy showed before the skirt started with its flowy chiffon material that was set in layers. A short skirt lay under so no one could see the world down there. This was the perfect dress for me and I was glad that Delphine had already kept it aside for me, predicting that I would hate the dress my mom chose.Delphine had even chosen the perfect mask. It was pearl white with silver and gold designs and covered most of the top half of my face, only leaving my stunning blue eyes and pouty pink lips on display. That worked in my favor since word of me being at the ball got around very quickly. Everyone wanted to see the face of Theo Harper's daughter. They wanted to see how I looked to criticize me in the next freaking issue of PEOPLE magazine. I so desper
QUINNBeing crowded all evening was an introvert's worst nightmare. I was said introvert and currently, I was being asked so many questions by so many people that it had my head spinning. My brother tried making a run for it the moment mom and dad had their backs turned but that did him no good. He ran into Braxton — mom's sister's eldest son and our cousin. Braxton never left his side after that. I guess it was a good thing that Danny and Braxton were close or else Danny would have been really annoyed.I found my escape when the tent's lights dimmed and mom and dad took the floor to dance to the song they danced to on their wedding day — their first dance as husband and wife. Everyone's focus temporarily shifted to them which finally gave me the breather I needed. Using the distraction, I exited the tent and made my way down the stone-paved path in the garden.We had a beautiful garden because mom had hired