The Boss Obsession

Chapter Eight - Must Be Crazy

Liana.

There was no point hiding the truth from him anymore.

I had to tell him, or my conscience would keep haunting me. I had to come clean. It was the only way I'd ever find peace.

I took out my phone and dialed the number he had used to call me last night.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

No answer.

Fine. I'll go to his house. It was still early, and he never got to the office before nine thirty.

So I headed for the estate.

At the gate, the maid gave me the news I didn't want. "He just stepped out, ma'am."

Shoot. I missed him.

My only option now was to tell him at work. I turned to leave, and that's when I saw her.

A stunning brunette was walking in like she owned the place. Her heels clicked against the stone, slow and confident. She looked like a Chanel model, the kind of woman whose face belonged on a magazine cover. Standing next to her, I felt like I had to shrink just to fit in the same space.

Please don't notice me.

Of course, she did.

"Hey! You there."

Her voice cut across the estate. I turned slowly, wondering what she could possibly want. She walked up to me, each step calculated, and stopped close enough for me to smell her expensive perfume.

"You look familiar," she said, brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

Familiar? From where?

"I'm sorry, but I don't know you," I said.

She clicked her tongue, her eyes sweeping over me from head to toe.

"No, no. I remember now. You're that girl who snuck out of Vance's house a few weeks ago."

My breath caught in my throat.

She knows.

I kept my voice low and steady, even though my heart was racing. "I don't know what you're talking about, Miss. I'm Mr. Vance's secretary. I just came to give him some information."

It was a lie, but for once, it sounded believable. Still, she didn't buy it. She tilted her head and studied me like I was a puzzle she had already solved.

"I'm no fool. I saw you clearly, redhead." A slow, triumphant smile spread across her lips. "But don't worry. You're no longer a problem for me. Vance proposed last night. We're getting married."

She lifted her hand and held it right in front of my face. A heart-shaped diamond sparkled on her finger, catching the morning light.

Something inside me twisted.

I clenched my fists at my sides. I hated how my body reacted, how hot my face felt, how tight my chest became. It was jealousy, plain and simple. And that made no sense. Why did I care now?

Get a grip, Liana.

But the truth hurt anyway.

That ring should have been mine.

"You'll never succeed with your little shady plans, you b*tch," she hissed.

Then she walked past me and slammed her shoulder into mine, as if we'd been enemies for years.

I stood frozen for a full minute, her words echoing in my head. When I finally came back to myself, my legs felt weak.

So it was all a lie?

Was I just a toy to him? Something he used and threw away?

And the question that hurt the most:

Was this baby from something that was never real?

I placed my hand over my stomach and closed my eyes. For a moment, I could almost feel his hands on my skin again, the warmth of his breath against my neck, the way he used to say my name in the dark. My body remembered him even when I wished it wouldn't.

I swallowed hard and opened my eyes.

The cab ride to work passed in a blur. When it stopped in front of the massive glass building, the city breeze brushed against my face, cool and sharp. I walked inside without a word and made my way straight to my office.

"Welcome."

The voice came from across the room.

I turned, and my stomach dropped.

Vance was sitting in my chair, slowly spinning it from side to side. His expression was cold. Unreadable.

My knees went weak.

He stood and walked toward me, one slow step at a time, until he was only an inch away. I could feel the heat of his body. I could smell his cologne, the same one that lingered on my dress that night. My pulse jumped, and I hated myself for it.

"You called me earlier today," he said quietly. "And my head maid told me someone matching your description came looking for me."

"It's not important," I said, trying to shrug it off.

He didn't answer right away. His dark eyes moved over my face, my lips, my throat, as if he was searching for something.

"I'm not asking you," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm ordering you."

My mind went blank. I said the first thing that came to me.

"I just wanted to make it clear that there's nothing between us. I don't love you, and you don't love me. I think we should keep things neutral. Boss and employee. We can still be friends, though?"

I even forced a small smile and held out my hand.

He looked at my hand.

Then he looked at me.

Then he slid both hands into his pockets.

"Who told you there was something between us?"

My smile faded. Slowly, awkwardly, I pulled my hand back.

"Even if I had a choice," he went on, calm and merciless, "I would never choose someone like you. You're way below my league. What we had was a fling. A waste of time."

His words cut deeper than I ever thought they could.

I stared at the floor, begging myself not to cry. But he wasn't finished.

"And I can never be your friend. I'm your boss, and you will address me with respect. Starting tomorrow, don't come late, or you'll regret it."

He walked away without a single glance back.

The door closed behind him.

Only then did I let myself break. The tears came fast and hot, and I didn't try to stop them. There was no one left to hide from.

I pressed my hand against my stomach again, my fingers trembling.

So it really was just as I feared.

How could I tell a man who didn't want me that I was carrying his child? What would he do? Chase me away?

He had never loved me. Not even a little.

I was just one of his many women, someone he could use and discard whenever he pleased.