Calista’s POV

The loud buzzing of my phone jolted me awake, and I sat up with a groan.

My stomach let out an angry growl, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday. I pressed my hand against it, sighing deeply.

Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled into the tiny kitchen and put a pot of water on the gas. I grabbed the last pack of pasta I had left and tossed it in, then found a few shrimps hiding in the freezer.

They were barely enough for a meal, but I emptied them all into the pot anyway alongside some ingredients.

Hunger was clawing at me, and I couldn’t be picky.

By the time I finished bathing and dressing in my simplest clothes, the food was ready.

I turned off the gas, rinsed a fork, and too impatient to bother with a plate, I dug in right from the pot.

Three minutes later, I had scraped it clean. Still, my stomach wasn’t satisfied.

A pang of helplessness tightened in my chest, and I hugged my knees to my chest as I sat on the floor.

“Is this how I’ll keep living?” I whispered to myself. “Struggling every single day? In poverty and wretchedness?”

I carried the empty pot to the sink, washed it, then swept the crumbs from the small kitchen floor

I went back to my bed and flopped down, exhausted.

Then I remembered the phone. I don't know the reason it had been buzzing so persistently.

Reaching for it, I unlocked the screen and blinked at the notification. My eyes widened as I read the subject line of the email:

“Congratulations, Miss Calista Vaughn.”

Heart pounding, I opened it.

---

Dear Calista Vaughn,

We’re glad to inform you that you’ve been chosen as the Prince’s Personal Assistant.

You are to accompany him wherever he goes, and you will reside in his mansion.

Your schedule is attached below. For more information, visit the company.

Welcome to Knight Group of Luxuries.

I sat frozen, staring at the screen. My eyes widened so much I feared they would pop right out of their sockets.

“No way…” I whispered, and then I screamed. I rolled around on my bed, kicking my legs in the air like a child.

I read the email again. And again. And again. Each time, the words remained the same. It wasn’t fake. The sender was the official address of the company.

“But… why?” My voice cracked.

Was it because of yesterday? Because of that messy encounter when I almost got hit by a car?

Or because I was bold during my interview? Out of hundreds of people, why would he choose me?

Tears suddenly blurred my vision. My chest tightened as the truth settled in.

This could be my chance. My way out of poverty. A miracle that might finally allow me to pay for my mother’s surgery.

It was too overwhelming.

Normally, it was supposed to take days, even weeks, for them to finalize a decision. But my reply came less than twenty-four hours later.

That could only mean one thing—it was the Prince doings.

Does this mean I’ll actually see his face again? I had only caught the smallest glimpse of him yesterday.

Being his Personal Assistant meant I would be beside him every day.

“What does he even see in me?” I muttered. “I’m just… me. A broke girl with no polished clothes, no glamorous look, nothing.”

Still shaking, I scrolled further down the email and read through the attached schedule.

It was tough. Demanding. Nothing about it was easy. But somehow, I believed I could survive it.

At the bottom, there was a phone number with a note: She will be your guide.

Great. At least it was a woman. I was relieved it wasn’t that cold guy from yesterday. I had a feeling he didn’t like me at all.

Before I could process more, I decided to check the news headlines. I typed my name into the search bar, and almost choked when the first article popped up.

“Prince Damien Knight Has Officially Appointed a New Personal Assistant.”

And right there, in bold letters, was my name: Miss Calista Vaughn.

Below it was a picture of me sitting in the auditorium with my badge. I hadn’t even realized anyone was taking pictures then.

I scrolled down to the comments section. My jaw clenched as I read.

I rolled my eyes. Jealousy oozed from most of them.

They could all fall off a cliff for all I cared. Still, I noticed a few supportive ones, which made me smile faintly.

Then my smile vanished when I saw a particular name pop up in the comments.

Morgan Smith.

Wait. That name… Yes. She was the girl I replaced.

She had written: “I can’t believe this. I was only unconscious for a few hours, and they replaced me with a leech. Calista Vaughn is a thief.”

My mouth dropped open. She even added an angry emoji.

Hundreds of replies flooded beneath her comment. Some supported her. Others told her to stop being dramatic. But I only scoffed.

“She can go hug a transformer,” I muttered.

The official company account had already confirmed the announcement, which meant it was final. My position was official. The whole world knew it now.

I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, grinning and crying at the same time. This felt unreal. Too good to be true.

But one line in the email kept bothering me.

You will reside in his mansion.

“Why?” I whispered to myself. “Why would he want me living there?”

Before I could spiral too much, a message popped up on my phone.

"Good morning, Miss Vaughn. My name is Caroline Harris, and I’ll be your guide. My duty is to ensure you become the perfect Personal Assistant for His Royal Highness. He has ordered that you meet me at the shopping mall today to acquire clothing and other essentials."

Please wear a face mask and a cap to avoid recognition.

---

I blinked at the text.

But my heart skipped when I reread the last part.

A disguise? Really? Am I that popular already?

Well, maybe I am. I had just taken the position millions of people had dreamed of, and some of them would probably want me gone. Especially Morgan.

“This is too much,” I muttered, holding my phone tightly against my chest.

Still, a small smile tugged at my lips. For once, life didn’t feel like it was crushing me.