Obsessed With My Boss.

Running His Errands.

Chapter Three – Vanessa’s POV

The Morrison file?

The moment Ethan said it, I knew he wasn’t testing my efficiency—he was testing me. There were dozens of easier documents he could have asked for, but no. He had to choose the one buried somewhere in the mountain of archives, knowing it would take me a while.

My heels clicked against the polished floor as I made my way to the records room, muttering under my breath. “Arrogant… insufferable.”

I pulled open the heavy drawer, flipping through file after file, the scent of old paper and dust clinging to the air. My hands shook slightly—not from nerves, I told myself, but from anger. He thought this was a game. He thought I was just another secretary he could order around, another face that would bow to the Cole name.

But I wasn’t going to let him see me break.

Finally, after what felt like hours, my fingers closed on the thick folder marked Morrison. Relief washed over me, chased quickly by exhaustion. The thing weighed a ton, and by the time I hugged it against my chest, I was sweating under my blouse.

I paused at the doorway of the records room, closing my eyes for a brief second. Breathe, Vanessa. You can do this. Just hand him the file, keep your head high, and don’t let him see he’s getting under your skin.

But deep down, I knew the truth. Ethan Cole was already under my skin. And that terrified me more than anything.

By the time I reached Ethan’s office, my arms ached from carrying the heavy file. I shifted it against my chest and pushed open the door, praying he wouldn’t notice how breathless I was.

But the first thing I noticed wasn’t him.

It was his voice—low, smooth, but edged with something sharp. He was on the phone.

“…don’t forget what you owe me.”

The woman’s voice drifted faintly from the speaker, icy and dripping with accusation. His girlfriend, no doubt. My chest tightened unexpectedly, a sting I refused to name.

Ethan’s gaze flicked up the moment I stepped inside. His eyes—blue, clear, assessing—caught mine and held them for a moment too long. Then, just like that, his expression shifted. Cool. Dismissive. As though nothing had been said.

“Later, Vera.” His tone was final, cutting off the woman before she could argue further. He tapped his phone screen and set it down casually, like the call had been nothing.

I swallowed hard and crossed the room, setting the Morrison file on his desk with more force than I intended. Papers shifted at the impact.

“Here,” I said, my voice tighter than I’d meant.

“Efficient.” His lips curved in that infuriating half-smile. “I was starting to think you’d gotten lost in there.”

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. Don’t let him win, Vanessa. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I smoothed the wrinkles from my skirt and kept my tone clipped. “Is there anything else you need, Mr. Cole?”

For a heartbeat, something flickered in his eyes—amusement, maybe even curiosity. Then he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

“Not for now.”

I turned to leave, every nerve in my body buzzing, but I couldn’t shake the image of the phone in his hand. The woman’s voice. The way he ended the call the moment I entered.

It shouldn’t matter. It really shouldn’t.

So why did it?

Great — let’s flow smoothly into the continuation. This part can be written in Ethan’s POV to show his conflict: outwardly keeping control, but inwardly restless as he leaves his office to pick up Vera.

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Ethan’s POV

The moment Vanessa left my office, silence pressed in, heavier than the Morrison file she’d dropped on my desk.

I leaned back in my chair, tapping a finger against the armrest. The scent of her perfume lingered in the air—a faint trace of vanilla - and something sharper. Distracting. Irritating.

I shouldn’t have noticed.

Instead, my eyes drifted back to the phone lying on the desk. Vera’s name still glowed faintly across the screen, her last words ringing in my head. Don’t forget what you owe me.

With a sigh, I shoved the device into my pocket and rose. Whatever this… distraction… with Vanessa was, I had no business entertaining it. I had a girlfriend waiting. One who knew exactly how to push and pull at me until I gave her what she wanted.

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing me inside with my thoughts. For once, I hated the stillness. Vanessa’s face flashed unbidden—her fire when she snapped “Here,” her defiance barely hidden under politeness. Most women folded under pressure. She didn’t.

The elevator chimed, snapping me out of it. I forced the image of her away and tightened my jaw.

Outside, Vera was waiting in her usual style—sunglasses perched on her head, designer heels tapping impatiently against the pavement. She looked every bit the part: polished, glamorous, untouchable. The perfect accessory for a man in my position.

“Finally,” she said, slipping into the car without waiting for me to open the door. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

I slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. “I said I’d come, didn’t I?”

She gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course. You always do.”

As I pulled into traffic, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of her words. Because lately… she was wrong.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure if Vera was the one occupying all of my thoughts anymore.