Lillian Parker stepped into the glass tower of Sovereign Technologies at 6:45 a.m. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, echoing in the empty lobby.
The early morning sun reflected off the walls, but it didn't soften the cold efficiency that defined the company.
She glanced at the elevator numbers. Floor 42. Her floor. Where the heart of the empire lived. Where the man who ran it never seemed to leave.
"Of course he's here," she muttered under her breath.
The elevator doors opened, and the lights in Sebastian Wolfe's office were already on. Again.
Sebastian was tall. Broad-shouldered. The tailored suit he wore hugged a toned, muscular body. His black hair was slightly messy, and his piercing blue eyes cut through the room like icy knives.
He looked like he belonged in a magazine ad for CEOs. She didn't have time to be impressed.
"Morning, Mr. Wolfe," she said politely.
He didn't look up immediately. His head was bent over a tablet, fingers tracing lines of schematics with precise intensity.
"Miss Parker," he said without looking at her, tone clipped. "Did you schedule the 7 a.m. design review, or are you planning to tell me once it's already started?"
Lillian held her briefcase a little tighter. She hated mornings like this, when he was already on edge. She didn't flinch.
"I scheduled it for 7," she said evenly, pulling the tablet from her bag. "But I see you've already started reviewing the designs."
Finally, his eyes flicked up. Icy blue. Piercing. "I don't need confirmation. I need accuracy. That's why I hired you."
Her mouth twitched slightly. Not a smile. Not quite a frown. Enough to show she noticed the condescension.
"And you will have it, sir," she replied smoothly, setting her tablet down.
He leaned back, arms crossed. "You're awfully calm for someone who knows how late I've been staying. Or do you enjoy watching me burn out?"
She raised an eyebrow, her blonde hair catching the light. "Burn out? That would imply you stop. You haven't done that in nearly two months."
He didn't respond. He scrolled through schematics, intense focus. She waited silently. Part of her job was keeping him alive enough to make rational decisions.
"Your breakfast," she said finally, sliding a tray across his desk. "Eggs, avocado toast, coffee. I assumed you wouldn't make time for it."
His lips pressed into a straight line. He didn't reach for it.
"Miss Parker," he said quietly, edged with irritation, "I do not require constant supervision of my personal habits."
"I didn't say you required it," she replied calmly. "I said you need it."
He stared at the tray. Then back at her. Lillian didn't look away. She had never flinched.
Finally, he muttered, "Very well."
She allowed herself the tiniest smile. Not a victory smile. Just… acknowledgment.
"Your first meeting is in thirty minutes. Shall I walk you through the updates?" she asked.
"I know what I'm walking into," he said dismissively. His fingers tapped furiously on the tablet.
She stayed quiet. Not worth arguing.
Thirty minutes later, the boardroom. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city skyline. Sebastian stood at the head of the table. Presence dominating.
"Team," he said, "our new smart-home interface launches in eight weeks. No excuses."
Lillian observed the engineers. Young. Eager. Intimidated. No one else would call him out. Except her.
"Mr. Wolfe," she said clearly, stepping forward, green eyes meeting his blue ones, "I noticed a flaw in the energy-consumption model you signed off on last week. If we proceed without adjusting, it could reduce battery efficiency by ten percent."
Heads turned. Sebastian's eyes snapped to her. The room shrank around them.
"I don't believe that's correct," he said sharply. "The calculations were reviewed multiple times."
"I double-checked them," she said. "I can show you the simulations."
A pause. His jaw tightened. Few people didn't shrink under his scrutiny. Few contradicted him without hesitation.
"Do it," he said finally.
She pulled up the data, explaining step by step. His eyes followed every movement. But beneath irritation, a flicker of respect.
When she finished:
"Interesting," he said.
Lillian pressed her lips together. "Thank you, sir."
He said nothing further. That was fine. Better than arguing.
Later, afternoon. Meetings had run long. She found him still in his office. Coffee cold. Laptop open. Head propped against his hand.
"Mr. Wolfe," she said softly. "You haven't eaten today. Or yesterday. Or the day before."
He didn't look up. "I'm fine."
"Are you?" she pressed. "Skipped lunch. Didn't touch your coffee. Can't possibly—."
"I don't need you reminding me," he cut in sharply.
"And I don't need you collapsing in front of the board," she said, calm but firm.
He looked at her. Blue eyes. Tired. Sharp. Vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed.
"I do not require care, Miss Parker," he said quietly.
"I'm not offering care," she replied. "I'm offering sanity. And common sense."
He frowned. No anger this time. Just resistance.
She placed a plate of food next to his laptop. "Dinner. You can eat it or starve. Your choice."
He said nothing. But when she left an hour later, she knew it hadn't been untouched.
By 10 p.m., the office was nearly empty. She glanced at the clock, then up to his office. Lights still on. Always awake. Always moving forward.
For a moment, she admitted it silently. He was infuriating. Arrogant. Condescending. Sometimes cruel.
And yet… she worried.
Because no one else would.
Because someone had to.
Because even if he didn't like being cared for, she could not stand watching him destroy himself.
She turned off the hallway lights as she left. Footsteps echoing. Didn't look back.
But somewhere in the corner, Sebastian Wolfe paused. Head bent over his tablet. Fingers frozen mid-gesture.
For a second, he wondered if she would notice him even if he didn't want her to.
And that thought made him uncomfortable.