Trapped By My Ruthless Boss

KISAREL.

I still heard his cold voice in my head as I stepped out of the taxi.

"Get your ass back here in two hours, if you want to keep your new position."

Mr. Oceans Stark's words had a way of following me even in my sleep, like they were branded into my skin. Cold, merciless, and ruthless... Getting promoted from a receptionist to his personal assistant felt less like climbing the ladder and more like walking into a gilded cage.

It both excited and terrified me.

The pay was beautiful, and the perks were enviable. I would travel with him on business trips, see the world, and for once, escape the mess I'd been born into. But the price of it? Being tied to him almost every second of the day.

Mr. Oceans Stark, a man so ruthless he once shredded a senior executive's twenty-year career in under five minutes without even breaking a sweat. He was escorted out in handcuffs, on charges Mr. Stark's lawyers dug up overnight. One day, the man was running meetings, the next he was begging for bail money.

By then, everyone knew: one wrong step, and he could erase you from your career, your reputation, maybe even your freedom.

Still, today calls for celebration. And I had just about an hour to celebrate my new promotion with my fiancé, Jace, before packing my bags and meeting my boss at his private jet for our first business trip together.

I had already rehearsed every line I'd say to Jace the moment I pushed his door open.

He hadn't answered my calls, but that only made the surprise sweeter. Jace always told me to let him know before visiting - rules I followed without question because I loved him, and because he said he loved me too. He was obsessive and possessive in ways I found... Thrilling? I never said no to him. Never once.

But today, just once, I would.

I clutched the promotion letter like it was a trophy, and walked through the gates with a smile so wide even the guard seemed taken aback.

"Good evening," I greeted, but he answered me in a weird kind of way that I didn't really want to read meanings into.

I adjusted my round glasses, clutching my handbag securely to my shoulder.

The moment I pushed the front door open, I came face to face with Tisha, the very maid Jace had refused to let go of, no matter how many times I'd told him I didn't like her. She seemed not to like me either, but tonight her face carried something different - pity, like I'd already lost a game I didn't know I was playing.

"Hey..." Her voice was softer than I'd ever heard it, the word dragged out like a quiet warning.

That was strange.

"Hi, Tisha," I replied, already heading for the stairs. "He's in, right?" Not that I needed an answer.

She hesitated, wringing the edge of her apron. "You...