"I swear, if he assigns me one more pointless task, I'm quitting. I mean it this time, Clara. I'll throw my resignation at his smug face and walk out like a queen."
Alina Cruz hissed into her phone, pacing outside the Langston Corp headquarters like a lioness ready to maul someone. Her sleek ponytail whipped behind her with every furious step.
On the other end of the line, her best friend Clara sighed dramatically. "You say this every week, Lina. But you're still there, looking hot and professional every damn morning. And I'm sorry, but I still don't get why you hate him so much. I mean... Nathaniel Langston? That jawline? Those cold, calculating eyes? Whew. I'd let him ruin my entire life."
Alina groaned. "Clara, please. The man is Satan in a suit. You've never worked for him. He's the most arrogant, manipulative, emotionally constipated..."
"Hot," Clara finished dreamily. "He's hot, admit it."
Alina rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. "Not even a little."
She hung up before Clara could romanticize her tyrant of a boss any further. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she walked through the polished revolving doors and stepped back into hell.
Langston Corp's upper floors were clinically silent, polished, and pristine just like the man himself. Alina checked her reflection in the elevator mirror. Her lipstick was sharp. Her heels were sharper. But her hatred? That was lethal.
When she entered the office, she found her desk stacked with an impossibly high pile of folders.
She stared. Blinked.
"What the hell"
As if on cue, Nathaniel Langston's voice came from behind his glass office wall.
"Ms. Cruz, I expect the reports on all five departments by noon. Also, reschedule my meetings, reorganize my files, and rewrite the presentation I told you to finalize yesterday. It's trash."
She sucked in a breath. "It was your outline."
"Then you should've known better."
He didn't even glance up from his screen.
Alina gritted her teeth. "Yes, sir."
God, she hated him.
By eleven, she was drowning. Her inbox was flooded, her phone rang nonstop, and she was pretty sure she hadn't blinked in twenty minutes. Still, she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.
But of course, Nathaniel noticed everything.
"You look tired, Ms. Cruz. That's unfortunate. You'll be accompanying me to tonight's client dinner. You'll take notes. You do know how to do that, yes?"
Alina's jaw clenched. "I'm your secretary, not your servant."
His lips curled, barely. "Are you sure? You do take orders well."
She wanted to scream. Or flip his desk. Or throw hot coffee in his lap.
Instead, she smiled. Sweetly. "I'll be there. In the most miserable mood possible."
He met her gaze, something unreadable flashing in his icy eyes. "Excellent. Misery suits you."
By the end of the day, she vented to Clara again.
"He's the devil. He actually enjoys watching me suffer. He gave me seven overlapping assignments today, and then criticized my penmanship! Who does that?!"
Clara just giggled. "He notices your handwriting? That's basically romance."
Alina nearly threw her phone.
Little did she know Nathaniel Langston had heard every word of her earlier rant. And he wasn't mad.
He was amused.
And he had plans to make her hate him even more.
The following morning, Alina walked into Langston Corp with her jaw set like stone. She had slept four hours, her eyes were puffy, and she was still furious. But quitting? That wasn't an option. Not until she proved something to herself. She wouldn't let a cold-blooded man push her into defeat.
She walked past the security desk, ignoring the knowing glances from the guards. Everyone in the building knew about Nathaniel Langston's infamous secretary. The woman who could withstand the CEO's impossible temperament. The poor soul who took the beatings so no one else had to.
The elevator ride to the 50th floor was silent. Just her and her growing hatred.
When she stepped onto the executive floor, she found another mountain of files waiting at her desk. Neatly labeled: "Urgent. Do Before 10 a.m."
She checked the time: 8:12 a.m.
"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.
Her phone buzzed on cue. A new message from the devil himself:
Langston: Coffee. Black. No sugar. Meeting in 30 minutes.
Her fingers curled around her phone. "He has hands. He can get his own damn coffee."
Still, she rose from her chair, heels tapping with fury as she made her way to the office kitchen. She bumped into Jake from finance along the way, who offered a sympathetic smile.
"Back at it with the Beast?"
She let out a dry laugh. "Oh, the Beast upgraded. Now he's sending me tasks that require two assistants and a miracle. But sure. I'll make his coffee too."
She returned to her desk minutes later and walked straight into Nathaniel's office without knocking. He sat behind his enormous glass desk, a tablet in one hand and a pen in the other.
She placed the coffee down with unnecessary force.
"I added three drops of cyanide. Just how you like it."
He didn't look up. "You'd be far more useful if you focused on your tasks, Ms. Cruz."
"I'm not a robot."
"Debatable," he said, flipping to the next page on his tablet.
Her blood boiled.
She turned to leave but stopped short at the door. "You know, one day I'll walk out of here. And you won't even remember my name."
His gaze lifted, sharp and unreadable. "I remember everything, Ms. Cruz. Especially things that irritate me."
Her eyes narrowed. "Then remember this I hate working for you."
He smirked. "Good. Hate makes people efficient."
She stormed out.
Lunchtime brought no relief. As she sat at her desk, chewing on a stale sandwich, she saw her phone light up with a text from Clara.
Clara: How's the devil today? Still hot? Still evil?
Alina: He's Lucifer in Armani. I swear, he gets off on watching me suffer.
Clara: Ugh, I'd still let him corrupt me. 🥵
Alina stared at her phone in horror.
Alina: You're sick.
Clara: And you're in denial. I bet he's mean to you because he's secretly obsessed.
She nearly choked on her sandwich.
Alina: He's OBSESSED with his own reflection. That's it.
Just as she set her phone down, her desk phone rang.
She sighed. "Yes, Mr. Langston?"
"Come in here. Bring your notes on the Lombardi account."
She rolled her eyes so hard it hurt and marched into his office. He was standing by the window, arms crossed, gaze focused on the skyline like it personally offended him.
"You rang, oh mighty tyrant?" she asked.
He turned, face stone cold. "Your attitude is as unprofessional as your shoes. Sit."
Her mouth dropped. "What's wrong with my shoes?"
He arched a brow. "They squeak."
She glared but sat anyway. "I have the notes. Want me to read them aloud like kindergarten?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he stepped closer, eyes narrowing slightly.
"You always talk back," he said.
"Because you always insult me."
"I don't insult. I give feedback."
"Then your feedback sucks."
For a second, his lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. But he shut it down immediately. "We have a meeting with the Lombardi group tomorrow. I expect you to be prepared."
"I'm always prepared. Unlike some people who rely on sarcasm to mask their inability to be decent."
He ignored the jab. "We'll leave at 7 a.m. sharp. Don't be late. And for God's sake, don't wear those shoes."
She stood abruptly. "I will wear these shoes and make sure they squeak twice as loud."
She left before he could respond.
The next morning, she arrived at the parking garage before him. She stood by the luxury car assigned for the meeting, arms crossed, a vengeful glint in her eyes.
Nathaniel arrived in a navy suit, looking like he stepped out of a magazine. His eyes landed on her shoes.
She squeaked them deliberately.
"I see we're being childish today," he said.
"Oh no, I've been promoted to petty."
He opened the car door. "Get in, Ms. Cruz."
The ride to the meeting was long and silent. Alina focused on the skyline, but she could feel his gaze on her several times.
"Something on your mind?" she asked finally.
"Just trying to understand why someone as competent as you chooses to be so difficult."
"Maybe I enjoy making your life harder."
He smirked. "Then we have something in common."
Their eyes met. And for a split second, something unspoken hung in the air frustration, tension, maybe even heat.
But then he turned away. "Don't mess up the meeting."
She huffed. "Don't mess up your face. Oh wait, too late."
He laughed. Actually laughed. Just once, low and unexpected.
She blinked. It startled her more than if he had screamed.
The silence after was different.
Neither of them said a word for the rest of the ride.
And yet, something had changed.
Something she couldn't name but felt all the same.
The meeting with the Lombardi group went better than expected. Alina, despite her emotional turmoil and squeaky shoes, presented the numbers flawlessly. Nathaniel's icy exterior remained intact throughout, but he didn't interrupt her once not even to nitpick. It was the first time he had allowed her to take charge without undermining her input.
Back in the car, as they pulled away from the towering hotel where the meeting had been held, she turned to him.
"Why didn't you correct me once back there?"
He didn't look away from the road. "Because for once, you didn't say anything idiotic."
Her mouth dropped open. "Was that praise?"
"I'm not in the habit of complimenting my employees."
"Even when they save your ass?"
He finally glanced at her, a flicker of amusement in his sharp eyes. "Don't let it go to your head."
She smirked, but turned her face away quickly. She wasn't going to let herself read too much into that.
They drove in silence again, but it wasn't heavy. It wasn't suffocating like the usual atmosphere between them. It was awkward in a different way as if neither of them knew how to navigate peace.
When they arrived back at Langston Corp, Nathaniel headed directly to his office, tossing his jacket over the back of his chair as he sat down. Alina followed, her tablet clutched tightly against her chest.
"You'll find the final copy of the Lombardi minutes in your email," she said, voice clipped.
He nodded absently, already opening his laptop. "You're more useful than I thought."
Alina blinked. That was almost a compliment.
"Do you treat all your staff this way?" she asked quietly.
He looked up, his expression unreadable. "Only the ones who constantly threaten to resign."
Her brows lifted. "You heard that?"
"Ms. Cruz, there's not much in this building I don't hear."
Heat flooded her cheeks. "Maybe you should try being less of a tyrant. Then people wouldn't hate you so much."
"I don't need to be liked. I need to be respected."
"You think that's the same as fear?"
He leaned back in his chair. "People perform better under pressure. You're proof of that."
Alina stepped closer, her voice rising. "I'm not your experiment. I work hard because I care about what I do. Not because you scare me."
Nathaniel studied her carefully, his jaw ticking. Then, in a tone lower than usual, he said, "Why do you stay?"
She blinked. "What?"
"You say you hate me. You talk about quitting every week. But you're still here."
She hesitated. "Because... because I refuse to let someone like you be the reason I give up on something I'm good at."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Fair enough."
There was something unfamiliar in his expression then. A kind of softness, or maybe respect. But it was fleeting. He stood, picking up a folder.
"Don't get too comfortable. I need those financial forecasts revised by tomorrow. And reschedule my Thursday meeting with Kimura to Friday."
She narrowed her eyes. "And I thought we were having a moment."
"We were. It's over now."
She groaned. "I hope you step on a Lego."
"Noted."
Later that evening, Clara popped open a bottle of wine in their apartment and raised an eyebrow.
"So...?"
Alina sighed and collapsed onto the couch. "It was weird. He didn't insult me during the meeting. I think he even smirked at one point."
"God, I wish I were you."
"No, you don't. He's still insufferable."
Clara passed her a glass. "You're glowing. Secretly loving the enemy now, aren't we?"
Alina nearly choked. "Absolutely not. He's a nightmare."
Clara giggled. "A hot nightmare."
Alina didn't answer. Instead, she took a long sip of wine and stared at the ceiling. Something in her chest twisted. She had spent over a year working under Nathaniel Langston's thumb. She had cursed his name a hundred times. But now, after today…
She hated that she'd started seeing him differently.
And that terrified her more than anything else.