The sound of my alarm felt like a personal attack.
I groaned, slapped my phone until it went silent, and stared at the ceiling for a long, tired second. The air was cold, the morning light dull. For a brief moment, I wondered if it would really matter if I didn't go to work today.
Then I remembered the rent notice on the fridge, the stack of unpaid bills, and the heavy truth I tried so hard to ignore…Dad's debts.
I sat up with a sigh, pushing that thought aside before it could drag me under.
There wasn't time for self-pity. I had to survive another day at Spade & Reed Enterprises.
Another day with Grayson Reed.
The man everyone in the company feared. The one who could freeze a room with a look. My boss.
I threw on the first outfit that didn't look like it had been through a war, grabbed my half-dead phone, and sprinted to the bus stop. The sky threatened rain, and of course, the bus was late. When it finally arrived, it was packed. By the time I reached downtown, I was twenty minutes late and slightly damp.
Perfect… Just perfect
I ran into the building, swiping my ID at the security gate so fast the guard barely saw my face. The elevator doors closed right in front of me, and I stood there, staring at my reflection in the metal like a tragic movie extra.
By the time the next one came, my hair was frizzing.
When I reached my floor, the office was already in silent chaos; phones ringing, keyboards clicking, tension thick in the air.
Emma, my friend and closest ally in this corporate jungle, looked up from her desk with wide eyes. "You're late."
"I noticed," I whispered back, trying to catch my breath.
"You picked the wrong day for it, Lily," she muttered. "He's been in one of his moods since seven."
"Define 'mood.'"
"The kind where even the air conditioner is afraid to make noise."
I closed my eyes briefly. "Fantastic."
"Seriously, you should hide."
"Too late. I have his coffee order to deliver."
Emma winced. "Godspeed."
I made my way to the break room, preparing his usual black, no sugar, no cream, nothing human about it. Just like him.
As I stood there, the scent of coffee rising, I felt the knot in my chest tighten.
I couldn't afford to lose this job. Not with everything hanging by a thread.
When Dad died, I found out about the loans, money borrowed from Spade Industries years ago. Money that was somehow now tied to my boss's company. I'd been trying to repay it quietly, but it was hopeless. The amount was too big. Every paycheck went straight to the hole he'd left behind.
I took a deep breath, grabbed the cup, and straightened my blazer. "Just coffee, Lilian. In and out."
The hallway outside his office was quiet. Too quiet.
I knocked gently. "Sir, your morning coffee."
"Come in," came that smooth, deep voice that always managed to sound both calm and dangerous.
He was behind his desk with his dark hair slightly messy like he'd been working for hours already. He didn't look up.
"You're late," he said simply.
My throat tightened. "I… I got stuck in traffic."
He finally raised his head. His eyes were cool, sharp gray, the kind that didn't just look at you, they sized you up.
"That excuse seems to be a habit with you, Miss Blake."
"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
He didn't respond. Just gestured toward the corner of his desk. "There."
I stepped forward to set the cup down, careful not to spill, but my hand brushed a stack of files near the edge. The cup wobbled. My heart stopped.
Hot coffee splashed across the papers.
"Oh my God…I'm so sorry!" I gasped, grabbing tissues from his desk before the liquid could spread further. "I didn't mean…"
Grayson stood slowly, the chair sliding back. His silence was worse than yelling.
He picked up one of the soaked documents, looked at it, then at me. His jaw flexed, but he said nothing.
"Sir, I can fix it," I said quickly, panic making my voice tremble. "I'll reprint everything."
His gaze flicked to the clock. "You'll stay late tonight and redo every page. Every single one."
I nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
He leaned forward slightly, voice low but cutting. "And next time, try not to ruin an entire morning before nine."
I swallowed hard. "Understood."
He didn't say another word. Just dismissed me with a look, cold, final, like I wasn't worth another second of his time.
As I bent down to collect the damp papers, I caught my reflection in the shiny desk surface flushed cheeks, messy hair, a nervous wreck. I wanted to disappear.
The moment I stepped out of his office, I heard the low murmur of whispers. I didn't need to look to know people were pretending to work while listening.
Emma met me halfway, eyes wide. "What happened?"
I forced a weak smile. "I gave him his coffee."
Her face fell. "Oh, Lily..."
"I'll live." I sat down, my shoulders heavy. "Just a few extra hours tonight."
She sighed. "He's impossible."
"Tell me about it."
I tried to focus on my tasks, but my hands kept shaking. The smell of coffee still clung to my fingers.
Around noon, I passed him in the hall as he spoke to one of the senior partners, a stunning woman in a fitted black dress. She laughed softly at something he said, touching his arm. He didn't pull away.
Of course he didn't.
I turned away, pretending not to notice the twist in my stomach.
By the time five o'clock came, the office was empty except for me. I spent the next three hours reprinting files, checking formatting, replacing every page that had been ruined. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the clock on the wall ticked too loudly.
When I finally finished, my back ached. I stacked the papers neatly, left them on his desk, and paused.
He was gone. Only his jacket remained on the chair.
A strange pang hit me, relief mixed with something else.
I wrote a small sticky note: All files reprinted. — L.B.
Then I left quietly.
Outside, the city was already dark. The buses had stopped running frequently, so I walked home. My shoes pinched. My feet hurt. My chest felt heavy.
When I got to my apartment, Mom was asleep on the couch, TV still on. I turned it off, covered her with a blanket, and sank into the kitchen chair.
Tomorrow, I'd go back. I always did. Because I had no choice.
Grayson's POV
The office was quiet when I returned from my meeting. The lights were dim, except for the glow from my desk.
Freshly printed files sat neatly stacked, perfectly aligned and a small yellow note on top.
All files reprinted. — L.B.
I picked it up, my thumb brushing the edge of her handwriting.
She'd stayed late.
Good. She needed to learn precision.
Still, I found myself looking toward the door, half expecting her to still be there.
I shouldn't have raised my voice. I hadn't, technically. But the look in her eyes... it lingered.
Fear and shame.
I exhaled, rolling up my sleeves again. "You're getting soft, Reed," I muttered.
But I didn't throw the note away. I tucked it inside the top drawer instead.