I should have left.
That thought sat heavy in my chest as I walked out of his office, my steps stiff, controlled—like if I relaxed for even a second, I'd fall apart.
Or worse…
Turn back.
"Miss Adebayo."
I stopped.
Of course I did.
I turned slowly, already irritated. "Yes?"
The assistant—perfect posture, perfect smile—held out a file. "He asked me to give you this."
I stared at it like it might explode.
"What is it?"
"Your employment terms."
My brows pulled together. "Employment?"
She smiled wider. "Congratulations. You got the job."
For a second, I just stood there.
Confused.
Suspicious.
Annoyed.
"…You're joking."
"I don't joke about business."
My stomach dropped.
The same words.
His words.
I took the file slowly, my fingers tightening around it. "I didn't even finish the interview."
"Yes," she said politely. "He said he's seen enough."
That didn't feel like a compliment.
That felt like a setup.
I didn't open the file until I was inside the elevator.
Bad idea.
Very bad idea.
My eyes scanned the first page—and then froze.
Position: Executive Assistant to the CEO.
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"No," I muttered under my breath. "No, no, no."
Out of all the roles in this company…
He put me closest to him?
This wasn't a job.
This was punishment.
Or worse—
Control.
The elevator doors opened, but I didn't move.
Not immediately.
Because suddenly, it all made sense.
The calm look on his face.
The way he didn't react when he saw me.
The way he watched me like he already knew how this would end.
He planned this.
Or at least…
He wasn't surprised by it.
My grip on the file tightened.
I should reject it.
I wanted to reject it.
But then reality crept in, quiet and cruel.
The unpaid bills.
The closed doors.
The way every opportunity lately had slipped right through my fingers.
I needed this.
Even if it meant dealing with him.
Even if it meant stepping back into the fire.
"Problem?"
I froze.
That voice again.
Too close.
Too familiar.
Too much.
I turned slowly—and there he was, leaning casually against the wall like he'd been there the whole time.
Watching me.
Of course he had.
"You're unbelievable," I said, holding up the file. "This?"
His gaze flicked to it, then back to me. "Yes."
"Executive assistant?" I let out a sharp laugh. "You couldn't find anyone else to torment?"
His expression didn't change.
"If I wanted to torment you," he said calmly, "you'd know."
A chill slid down my spine.
I hated that part of him.
The quiet confidence.
The way he said things like they weren't threats… but felt like them anyway.
I straightened. "I'm not taking it."
"Then don't."
The answer came too easily.
Too quickly.
Like he didn't care.
Like I didn't matter.
Something in my chest twisted—and I hated that too.
"But," he added, pushing off the wall and stepping closer, "you should think carefully before you walk away."
I held his gaze. "Is that a warning?"
"It's advice."
I scoffed. "From you? I'd rather struggle."
His eyes darkened—just slightly.
"Then why are you still here?"
That hit.
Harder than I expected.
Because he was right.
Again.
And I was starting to hate how often that was happening.
"I don't trust you," I said quietly.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Gone in a second.
"You don't have to," he replied. "You just have to do your job."
I shook my head. "You really expect me to work under you like nothing happened?"
His jaw tightened.
"There's nothing to revisit," he said. "What happened is in the past."
The past.
Just like that.
Like it didn't matter.
Like I didn't matter.
Anger surged through me, sharp and sudden.
"You humiliated me," I snapped. "You stood there and let everyone believe—"
"Careful."
The word cut through mine.
Low.
Firm.
Dangerous.
Silence fell between us.
Heavy.
Charged.
His gaze locked onto mine, unreadable—but intense enough to make my breath hitch.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he said quietly.
My laugh was bitter. "Of course I do. I was there."
"So was I."
Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten.
But I pushed it away.
"I'm not doing this with you," I said, stepping back. "I'll send my decision by tomorrow."
I turned to leave.
"One condition."
I stopped again.
Slowly, I looked over my shoulder.
He was watching me.
Closely.
Like this mattered more than he was letting on.
"If you take the job," he said, "you follow my rules."
I folded my arms. "And if I don't?"
His lips curved slightly.
Again—not a smile.
Something sharper.
"Then this will be the last time you ever walk into this building."
A threat.
No.
A promise.
And somehow…
I knew he meant it.
That night, I didn't sleep.
I stared at the ceiling, the file lying open beside me like it was waiting for an answer I wasn't ready to give.
Working for him meant stepping back into everything I tried to escape.
But walking away?
That meant starting over.
Again.
From nothing.
My phone buzzed on the bed beside me.
Unknown number.
I hesitated… then picked it up.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then—
"Be at the office by 8 a.m."
My grip tightened.
"…I haven't accepted the job."
A pause.
Then his voice, calm as ever:
"You will."
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, my heart racing.
Arrogant.
Controlling.
Infuriating.
And somehow…
Already making decisions for me.
I exhaled slowly, closing my eyes.
Maybe this was a mistake.
Maybe this was exactly what I shouldn't do.
But deep down…
A part of me already knew the truth.
I wasn't walking away.
And tomorrow—
Everything was going to change.