Oops I Accidentally Ended Her Fake Perfect Life novel Chapter 30

**Across the Fallen Golden Kingdom Distant Fires by Damon S. Creed**

**Chapter 1**

I had always been the daughter of a mafia boss, but the life of bloodshed and violence was never something I craved.

What I yearned for was the simplicity of a normal existence, where love and laughter filled the air rather than the stench of gunpowder and betrayal.

Now, at the age of twenty-eight, I found myself still unmarried, and my father, a man of formidable power and expectations, had reached his limit.

He issued me an ultimatum that felt more like a sentence: attend the arranged marriage meeting he had set up, or cut all ties with him and stop calling him my father.

“Fine,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes at the absurdity of it all.

As I made my way to the meeting, my gaze was drawn to a luxurious boutique that seemed to shimmer under the afternoon sun. A handbag caught my eye—its elegance was undeniable, and I could almost feel it calling to me.

Just as I approached the counter, ready to make the purchase, a woman appeared out of nowhere, her presence as imposing as her attitude. With a swift motion, she slammed a sleek black card onto the counter.

“I’m taking this bag. Wrap it up,” she commanded, her tone dripping with entitlement.

I took a deep breath, determined to remain calm. “Sorry, miss. I saw it first.”

Her lip curled in disdain. “Please. A broke bitch like you? Pathetic.”

The venom in her voice was palpable. “Just get lost.”

She leaned closer, her arrogance radiating. “I’m Charles Whitmore’s executive assistant. In Riverton, anything I desire is mine for the taking. Don’t get in my way.”

Charles Whitmore?

Wasn’t he the very man I was supposed to meet today?

A flicker of intrigue ignited within me. I quickly pulled out my phone, dialing his number with a sense of urgency. “Charles, your secretary is throwing her weight around out here. You good with that?”

My father had been singing praises about Charles for weeks, painting him as a man of integrity and power.

This could be the perfect opportunity to gauge his character. If his assistant was this brazen in public and he allowed it, that would raise a significant red flag in my mind.

However, when Charles’s voice came through the line, it was as frigid as the winter winds. “How I manage my people is none of your business. Stay out of it.”

Before I could even muster a response, he hung up.

Figures.

It made sense now; trash always ran in packs.

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