Isabelle Lemieux sat behind her massive mahogany desk, her sharp eyes scanning the resumes spread out before her. The sterile elegance of her office reflected her personality—cold, imposing, and perfectly ordered. The large windows behind her offered a panoramic view of Paris, but she rarely took the time to appreciate it. Her mind was always focused on her next move, her next conquest.

The betrayal of her previous assistant still stung. Marie had been with her for years, her right hand and confidante. Isabelle had trusted her implicitly, only to discover that Marie had been secretly selling company secrets to the highest bidder. The incident had shaken her, not because of the potential damage to Lemieux Industries, but because it had shattered her belief in loyalty. Since then, Isabelle had become even more guarded, her icy demeanor even more formidable.

The search for a new assistant had been grueling. Isabelle had interviewed dozens of candidates, but none had come close to meeting her exacting standards. She needed someone intelligent, efficient, and, above all, loyal. Someone who could keep up with her demands and anticipate her needs without question.

Her latest round of interviews had proven particularly fruitless. The young man from the prestigious business school had been overly enthusiastic but lacked the strategic mind she required. The woman with the impressive CV had been competent but had displayed a telltale sign of ambition that bordered on treachery. Isabelle had seen enough in her career to recognize the glint of selfish intent in someone's eyes.

Just as she was about to dismiss the entire process as a waste of time, her intercom buzzed. "Mademoiselle Lemieux," her secretary's voice echoed through the room, "your final candidate for the day is here."

Isabelle sighed, running a hand through her meticulously styled hair. "Send them in."