Chapter 3 - Viral AnarchyBy 3:00 AM, the internet had a new obsession.
My face, my cheap dress, and Matteo Cipriani’s ice-cold declaration were plastered across every major social media platform. TikTok sleuths were digging up my LinkedIn profile, digging through my college records, and spinning wild conspiracy theories. Was I a secret heiress? A high-stakes corporate spy? A long-lost fiancée hidden away from society?
My phone had blown up so many times the battery died completely. Kitty had called, texted, and voice-noted me seven times before screaming in pure disbelief when she saw the TMZ headline: SHOCK AT THE PLAZA: MILLIONAIRE TYCOON MATTEO CIPRIANI CLAIMS MYSTERY WORKING-CLASS WOMAN AS HIS WIFE.
I sat at the mahogany dining table inside Matteo’s sprawling, minimalist penthouse overlooking Central Park, staring dumbfounded at a tablet displaying a live news broadcast.
"They’re calling me 'Cinderella in T.J. Maxx,'" I muttered, burying my face in my hands. "Jean is going to fire me before I even get through the lobby tomorrow morning. Or worse, he’s going to beg me to come in early so he can use me to get back in Matteo’s good graces."
A cup of steaming Earl Grey tea was placed gently beside my hand. I looked up to see Matteo standing there, having traded his tuxedo jacket for a dark cashmere sweater.
"You aren't going back to Dubois & Laurent, Ayla," Matteo said calmly, taking a seat across from me.
"Easy for you to say. I have rent, student loans, and a grocery bill—"
"You have a partnership waiting for you," Matteo interrupted, sliding a thick manila folder across the table. "Open it."
With hesitant fingers, I untied the string and pulled out the contents. It wasn't a job offer. It was an acquisition proposal. Matteo’s holding company had quietly purchased a controlling stake in Dubois & Laurent late yesterday afternoon. As of midnight, Jean Dubois was no longer a managing partner—he was an employee under review. And Mabel Laurent? Her desk had already been cleared out by human resources.
I stared at the papers, my breath hitching in my throat. "You... you bought the firm?"
"I bought the firm," Matteo confirmed softly, his eyes locking onto mine. "And I restructured the executive board. The first item on the new agenda is appointing a Chief Executive Officer who actually knows how the business runs."
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He slid a golden pen across the polished wood toward me.
"Sign the contract, Ayla. Let's show them what happens when the person doing all the work finally owns the building."
