Owned by the Billionaire Beast

ROBYN

"Robyn!" The angry voice was coming from my boss, which startled me. 

My heart jumped into my throat as I looked straight into the deepest abyss of his icy blue eyes, surrounded by thick black lashes, as he threw suffocating weight questions that I couldn't answer. At least, not right now. If I did, the response would not have made any difference because he was already furious.

Did I mention that he never called me by my first name?

I knew him. For the last six months, I'd been working for him as his executive assistant, and he didn't give a damn who lost jobs as long as he made money.

That's Spade Kolby. The cold-hearted, boorish, ruthless capitalist and co-founder of Zacc & Kross Ventures. He also owned and ran Emergence Capital as the president and CEO, the company I was working for. 

"Did you hear me, or should I call HR for a more competent assistant?" His gaze was so focused on me with startling intensity that he didn't move or blink.

Appalled with the unfolding sense of dread, I nodded.

"Get the fuck out before I change my mind." He slumped down into his chair, picking up the coffee I had placed on his desk earlier.

"Thank you, sir." I was surprised my voice was steadier than I anticipated. I placed the folders on his desk and turned around.

I couldn't afford to lose a job now that I had more bills to pay. It was my fault anyway. I was late. Five minutes late or one minute, it didn't matter. For Spade Kolby, who had never been late in his life, it was tardiness. It was unacceptable.

I hadn't reached the door, he cursed, "This is not my coffee." Oh, shit. How did he even know that? I didn't know what James, the barista, put in his coffee when I ordered the same black coffee every morning from the same cafe.

I stood straight. "That's what made me late, sir." Though it wasn't. "James had an emergency. He wasn't there when I arrived. I waited-"

"You're lying. I don't wanna hear more excuses. Own your mistake, Miss Sharpe. You're late, then you're late." He dropped the coffee into the bin unapologetically.

I wanted to berate him for wasting food when there were millions who slept hungry and who couldn't afford a cup, but he was an asshole and didn't give a shit.

"I'll call if he's back and bring you another cup."

"No need." He picked up the folder. His nose was still flaring.

I managed to get out of his office without swearing at his face. I received phone calls, prioritized his meetings and appointments, organized his travels, detailed itineraries for the next month, and forwarded important emails to him.

If there was one thing I liked about my job was that he never contacted me on weekends. He didn't demand that I pick up his dry cleaning or send me to do his