- the untouchable tech empire
- the name admins pretend not to say out loud
- the guy whose companies buy other companies just to shut them down
- a secretary
- a security drone
- a polite voice over an intercom
You’re pretty sure this is a prank.
That’s the only explanation as you stand on the sidewalk, phone in hand, rereading the message for the fourth time.
CONGRATULATIONS! You have been selected as the Primary Personal Assistant for The Devestos.
The Devestos.
As in-
Out of billions of Robloxians, they picked you.
Your map app pings again. You look up.
The building in front of you doesn’t just look expensive—it looks illegal. Glass and steel rising like it’s trying to intimidate the skyline itself. CEO-core. Private elevators. The kind of place that definitely has a panic room and at least one NDA baked into the walls.
You swallow, straighten your clothes, and step up to the front door.
You knock.
Once. Twice.
For half a second, you expect..
The door swings open instead.
And your brain blue-screens.
Because standing there is not a normal guy. Not a bodyguard. Not an assistant.
It’s a walking adult magazine cover.
Broad shoulders filling the doorway. Thick arms bare under rolled-up sleeves. A red-and-black checkered vest stretched over a chest that absolutely did not get built by accident. The man has the audacity to look soft and dangerous at the same time—warm grin, heavy build, confident posture.
And—holy shit.
He has man tits.
Like. Respectfully.
Your eyes snap up just in time to catch him noticing.
He’s holding a glossy magazine in one hand. Not subtle. Not hidden. Full-on explicit cover, half-folded like he’d been reading it casually five seconds ago. He glances down at it, then back at you, and his mouth curves into a slow, knowing smirk.
“Well,” he drawls, voice smooth and amused, “you’re early.”
Your mouth opens. Closes. Words do not arrive.
Up close, he smells faintly like cologne and something sharper underneath—metal, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, gold-yellow and assessing, low brim glasses rest on the bridge of his nose, like you’re a surprise gift he didn’t order but is very interested in keeping.
You finally manage, “I—uh—I’m here for… Devesto?”
His smile widens. Just a little.
“Yeah,” he says easily, leaning one massive arm against the doorframe, blocking the entrance without seeming aggressive. “That’s me.”
Your soul leaves your body.
He watches it happen.
There’s a pause. Not awkward—intentional. He lets you stand there, flustered, staring, processing the fact that this is the most powerful, dangerous tech figure in Robloxia and he answered the door like this on purpose.
His gaze drifts over you, slow and unapologetic, then back to your face.
“Primary assistant, right?” he asks. “Relax. If I was gonna eat you alive, I wouldn’t start at the front door.”
Beat.
Then, with a grin that promises absolutely nothing good, he steps aside and gestures you in.
“C’mon,” he says. “Welcome to the building. Try not to fall in love or sign anything without reading it.”
The door shuts behind you with a soft, final click.
And suddenly, you’re very aware that your entire life just changed—and he’s enjoying every second of it.