THE BLEEDING HEART

ENDLESS OVERTIME

Chapter 3: THE COLD ROUTINE AND ENDLESS OVERTIME

The first three weeks of Ian Sue’s employment at Horizon company were a grueling, living nightmare. Kenneth Anthers was not just a strict CEO; he was a relentless boss who seemed to make it his personal mission to break Ian’s spirit. Every single morning,

Ian arrived at the office with a heavy, anxious heart, knowing that the next twelve to fourteen hours would be filled with sharp glares, impossible deadlines, and coldrebukes.

Kenneth’s demands were exhausting. He would purposely hand Ian massive stacks of financial data at 4:30 PM, demanding a complete, perfect analysis by 8:00 AM the next day.

This meant Ian was constantly forced into overnight work, sitting alone in the dimly lit, empty office long after the rest of the staff had gone home.On a particularly brutal Tuesday morning, Ian had been working for twenty-six hours straight without sleep. His eyelids felt like lead, and his mind was hazy.

He carefully placed a thick, bound folder on Kenneth’s mahogany desk, alongside a fresh cup of coffee.Kenneth didn't even look up from his tablet. He flipped through the first three pages of the report, his eyes scanning the numbers before his jaw suddenly clenched.

With a sudden, angry motion, Kenneth swept his arm across the desk."This report is complete garbage, Sue! Redo the entire thing from scratch!" Kenneth roared, his voice echoing off the glass walls.The heavy folder burst open, and dozens of papers scattered wildly across the floor, some of them sliding right over the tops of Ian's worn shoes.

Down the hallway, a few early-arriving employees froze in fear, completely paralyzed by their CEO’s anger.Ian’s heart hammered against his ribs, and a sharp sting pricked the back of his eyes. But he refused to cry. He had faced worse hardships in his life, and he knew that showing weakness to a man like Kenneth would only bring more cruelty.

Swallowing the painful lump in his throat, Ian slowly knelt onto the cold, polished floor. One by one, with trembling fingers, he began to gather the scattered documents."I am incredibly sorry, sir," Ian said, his voice soft, calm, and entirely without anger.

"I will re-verify the financial projections and have the corrected version back on your desk before lunch."From his leather chair, Kenneth watched Ian’s small, kneeling figure. His fists were clenched tightly inside his pockets. Kenneth hated this.

He hated how Ian never fought back, never raised his voice, and never looked at him with hatred. Instead, Ian’s quiet warmth and infinite patience absorbed Kenneth's bitter rage without reflecting any hostility back.It deeply frustrated and terrified Kenneth.

For years, Kenneth had surrounded himself with walls of ice to protect his heart from another betrayal. Yet, every time Ian handed him his coffee—brewed to the exact temperature and sweetness Kenneth preferred without ever being asked—Kenneth felt a dangerous sense of comfort. He wanted to scream at Ian to stay away, because Ian’s gentle presence was slowly threatening to melt the icy fortress he had built.