My Billionaire Boss Who Loved Me

An Impossible Boss

Maya

By the second week of working for Mr. Thorne, I had reached one very important conclusion.

The man wasn’t human.

No normal person willingly woke up at four-thirty every morning, expected everyone around him to do the same, then somehow still had enough energy to terrorize the entire office before eight.

I was convinced he ran on caffeine and pure hatred.

My phone rang for what felt like the hundredth time that morning.

I didn’t even have to look at the screen to know who it was.

I sighed before finally answering.

“Good morning, Mr. Thorne.”

“You sound half asleep.”

“That’s because I am.”

“The car has been waiting outside for three minutes.”

I glanced at the clock beside my bed.

Five thirty-two.

“I’ll be down in a minute, sir.”

“You have thirty seconds.”

The line went dead.

“…this man is literally the worst.”

I threw the blanket aside, rushed through my morning routine and practically flew out of my apartment with my handbag hanging off one shoulder and my blazer still unbuttoned.

As I expected, a black Mercedes Benz was parked outside.

James, the driver, quickly stepped out to open the back door for me.

“I’m sorry,” I huffed as I climbed inside. “…the elevator took forever.”

Mr. Thorne didn’t even spare me a glance.

He was already reading through several reports resting neatly on his lap, a tablet balanced in one hand while his phone buzzed every few seconds with new emails.

I watched him for a moment before shaking my head.

“Do you ever stop working?”

Without looking up from the report, he answered,

“No.”

“Not even for five minutes?”

“Five minutes becomes ten. Ten becomes thirty. That’s how people fall behind.”

I frowned.

“You make life sound exhausting.”

He turned another page.

“It is.”

I stared at him for another second before looking back out the window.

“I’m beginning to think work is your entire personality.”

“Probably.”

That was somehow the longest conversation we’d had all day.

The rest of the drive was quiet except for the sound of him flipping through documents while I sipped my coffee in silence.

Or at least, attempted to.

The car suddenly stopped at a traffic light which caused my coffee to splash over and land on one of the files resting beside him.

I gasped then turned to him.

“Oh my God.”

I grabbed a handful of tissues as quickly as I could.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” I said as I began searching the car for a napkin.

Mr. Thorne looked down at the brown stain before looking back at me.

“…You managed to spill coffee inside a moving car.”

“It really wasn’t on purpose.”

“I’m beginning to think chaos just follows you around.”

I simply glared at him through the corner of my eyes.

“It was literally one drop.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I muttered something under my breath.

“What was that?”

“I said you’re absolutely right, sir.” I grinned.

“Hm.”

…

By nine o’clock we were standing on the thirty-second floor of one of Thorne Enterprises’ newest luxury developments.

The building was nowhere near completion.

The smell of fresh concrete lingered heavily in the air while workers moved in every direction carrying equipment, measuring steel frames and shouting instructions over the constant roar of machinery.

Even after everything I’d been through these past few months…

Construction sites still made me happy.

There was something strangely beautiful about watching an empty skeleton slowly become a building.

Every steel beam seemed deliberately placed, each one carrying its own purpose.

I’d almost forgotten how much I missed this.

“Keep up.”

I was still studying the exposed framework when Mr. Thorne’s voice carried across the construction site.

“Coming!”

I adjusted my helmet before hurrying after him.

The project manager greeted us with an enthusiastic smile.

“Mr. Thorne. We’re ahead of schedule.”

“I hope that’s true.”

“It is.”

The manager immediately began walking us through the site, pointing toward different sections of the building while proudly explaining each stage of construction.

“The exterior glass installation begins next week.”

“The electrical team should finish this floor by Friday.”

“We are expecting another shipment of steel this afternoon.”

Mr. Thorne barely reacted.

Instead, he questioned every deadline, every budget estimate and every safety report as though he expected someone to make a mistake.

The poor project manager was practically sweating.

While they continued talking, my attention wandered.

I guess my old habits simply refused to die.

I found myself studying the structure the same way I always had back in university, instinctively checking load paths, temporary supports and unfinished connections without even realizing I was doing it.

A loud metallic clang echoed somewhere above us.

I looked up.

Workers were securing another steel beam several floors higher.

Everything seemed normal.

Until…