Obsessed With My Boss.

Hardened Walls

Chapter Six

Vanessa’s POV

The office had never felt so quiet. I was already at my desk before seven-thirty, files neatly stacked, everything in order. For once, I wasn’t rushing in with an apology on my lips. I was early, ready, and oddly proud of myself.

When the elevator doors slid open around 8:20, the air shifted. Ethan Cole walked in.

He looked every inch the powerful CEO in his dark suit, though there was a faint sharpness in his jaw that hadn’t been there yesterday. He was late, and he knew it. But no one dared say a word.

Our eyes met briefly. For the smallest second, I thought I saw surprise—maybe even curiosity—in his gaze. But then it was gone, replaced with his usual cool, detached expression.

I gave a polite nod and lowered my eyes back to the papers in front of me. No smirk, no gloating. Just composure. It wasn’t my place to point out his lateness, and even if it had been, I wouldn’t have. He was my boss. Nothing more.

I heard his office door close behind him, and I let out a slow breath. You’re not impressed, Vanessa. You’re not supposed to be.

Then, a few minutes later, his voice carried out through the intercom.

“Vanessa, in my office. Now.”

I froze for half a beat, then stood, smoothing my skirt. Whatever this was, I wasn’t going to let him see me rattled.

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Ethan’s POV

The late arrival irritated me more than I cared to admit. I had built my reputation on discipline, yet here I was, walking into my own company later than my secretary.

Vanessa.

She’d been at her desk, calm, collected, files in perfect order. No fumbling, no excuses. Not only early—but ready.

And when she looked at me, there had been no smugness, no attempt to use my lateness as leverage. Just… restraint. Professionalism. A quiet strength I wasn’t used to. Most women in her position would’ve tried to curry favour, to charm me, to get close. Not her. She was guarded and hardened. And yet, I caught it—a flicker of compassion in her eyes before she masked it.

I wanted to see more of that.

Pressing the intercom, I said evenly, “Vanessa, in my office. Now.”

Moments later, she stepped in, file in hand, and her chin held high.

You asked to see me, sir?” she said evenly.

“Yes. Sit.”

She lowered herself into the chair across from me, placing the file neatly on her lap. I studied her for a moment, letting the silence stretch just long enough to see if she’d fidget. She didn’t.

“You were here early this morning,” I finally said.

“That’s what I’m paid to do,” she replied smoothly. “Be on time.”

My mouth curved slightly. “Not everyone sees it that way.”

Her lips pulled into a faint smile, sharp as glass. “I’m not everyone.”

Something tightened in my chest at her words. Bold. Direct. Unafraid.

“Good,” I said quietly. “Keep it that way.” My gaze flicked to the folder she carried. “What do you have there?”

She set it on my desk. “The Morrison account details you requested. I went through them last night—highlighted the inconsistencies.”

I flipped it open, scanning the meticulous notes. Efficient. Thorough. It's better than I’d expected.

“Efficient,” I remarked.

Her voice held a dry edge when she answered, “That’s also what I’m paid to be.”

I looked up sharply, catching the coolness in her tone. Instead of irritation, I felt something else stir. Intrigue. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, even to me.

“You’re not afraid to speak plainly, are you?” I asked, leaning forward.

Her eyes met mine, steady, unflinching. “Would you prefer I lie?”

For a long moment, silence filled the room. My pulse kicked harder than it should have, and to my own surprise, the corner of my mouth tugged upward—almost a smile.

“No,” I said slowly. “I’d prefer you keep being exactly as you are. That way, I’ll know I can trust you.”

Her gaze flickered—something unreadable in her eyes—but she rose gracefully to her feet. “If that’s all, Mr. Cole, I’ll return to my desk.”

I let my eyes linger on her a moment longer than necessary. “For now.”

She nodded once and slipped out, then I said, "Can you get me a cup of coffee please."

"Yes, sir," she said, and the door closed softly behind her.

Silence fell again, but I didn’t return to the file. Instead, I leaned back, staring at the door she’d just walked through.

Vanessa was efficient, disciplined, and professional—but what unsettled me most was the way she looked at me. Not with admiration. Not with fear. Not with the desperation to please I’d grown so accustomed to.

She looked at me like I was simply… a man.

And for reasons I couldn’t explain, I found myself wanting her to look again.