Enslaving My Ex-Boss

White Chrysanthemums

[Hazel]

The morning sun lit up softly through a layer of gray clouds, casting a sorrowful light over the small cemetery. The only sounds accompanying the grief-laden atmosphere were the gentle rustle of barren trees and the faint calls of distant birds, while rows of sad mourners clothed in black stood silently.

Elijah was at the front, holding a small bouquet of white chrysanthemums, a flower that is well known for symbolizing grief and lamentation. His hands shook as he clutched them, his whole body stiff yet fragile. I stayed close, ready to steady him if he needed it. He looked so lost, his red-rimmed eyes fixed on the casket as though he couldn’t bear to look away.

Arthur spoke about Miranda’s life, about her good qualities, and all. I barely heard the words. My eyes were on Elijah, watching him fight his emotions, trying to keep himself together even as his pain seemed to pour out in every silent breath.

When it was time to say goodbye, Elijah stepped forward. He placed the chrysanthemums gently on the casket. His movements were slow, careful, as if he was afraid of breaking something even though it was already gone. The sight broke my heart all over again.

As the casket was lowered into the pit, I stood beside him. The sound of dirt falling onto the wood felt like the finality of everything that had happened. Elijah didn’t say anything, but his silence spoke louder than any words could. I wanted to tell him it would get easier, that he would heal, but I knew it wasn’t the right time. All I could do was stay with him at the moment.

When the grave was finally covered and the crowd slowly began to leave, in the midst of the grief, I heard the sound of clicking heels on the cold ground. It wasn’t common for people to wear such noisy high heels at a funeral, so that sound immediately grabbed my attention. Turning slightly, I saw Jamie Davenport Harrison, Elijah's cousin-sister, approaching us. She looked as though she were attending a fancy event instead of a funeral, wearing a black coat with a fur collar and high heels that seemed out of place in the cemetery. She gave a winter collection fashion show vibe to the onlookers.

“Elijah, dear,” she said, her voice overly sweet, her hands reaching out to grab his arm. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.” Her tone sounded kind, but her sharp gaze barely glanced at the grave, as if it didn’t matter much to her.

Elijah didn’t say anything, just gave her a short nod, his face tense.

Behind her was Luke Harrison, her husband. He adjusted his coat like it was the most important thing in the world. “Tough day,” he said in a flat tone, looking at Elijah briefly before his eyes moved to me. He didn’t smile or say hello, just stared at me like I was some adult magazine model's picture, exclusively there for him to ogle. “I see you’ve got someone keeping you company,” he added with a faint, perverted smirk.

I ignored him, but irritation bubbled in my chest.

Then came Zade Davenport, Elijah’s younger cousin and Jamie's stepbrother. He walked toward us with his hands in his pockets, his sharp suit and slicked-back hair making him look like he’d come straight from a business meeting—which was impossible because he was unemployed and a failed actor. “Well, this is cozy,” he said with a grin that didn’t fit the mood.

Zade stopped in front of Elijah, tilting his head slightly. “You holding up okay? I mean, yeah, it’s a rough day, but you’re tough. You’ll bounce back, right?” His words sounded casual, too light for the situation, as if he didn’t really care about the weight of Elijah’s grief.

Elijah stood silent, his body stiff with tension. His struggle to keep his emotions in check was clear. None of his cousins were decent, and Elijah knew that all too well. The best he could do was ignore them, doing his best not to let them ruin Miranda's funeral.

“Miranda was always a bit dramatic,” Jamie said, her voice too loud, too bright for the moment. “But we’ll remember the good times, of course.” She smiled, but it didn’t feel real.

Elijah's hands clenched at her words, but he didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the time to argue, no matter how much they poked him with their fake concern. Getting worked up would only create unnecessary drama, and he knew that all too well.

“You should take some rest, Elijah,” Luke said in a firm voice, but still, he didn't sound concerned at all. “You look terrible. Honestly, Jamie, do you think he’s even been eating? He looks so pale.”

"Well, funerals can kill the appetite. Pun intended.” Zade chuckled, shaking his head as if they weren’t talking about a funeral, but a sitcom.

I didn’t like Miranda much, especially after what she did to Elijah, but that definitely didn’t mean I would stay quiet and let them disrespect the dead or the people who actually cared. I stepped forward, putting myself between Elijah and them. My voice was steady, even though I felt anger bubbling inside. “Thank you all for checking on him, but Mr. Davenport needs some space right now. Maybe you can give him some time.”

Jamie blinked at me, clearly annoyed. Luke raised an eyebrow, and Zade just smiled, like he found the whole thing amusing.

"How dare—"

Jamie was about to snap when, finally, Elijah spoke, his voice quiet but firm. “Hazel’s right. I need some time.”

Jamie patted his arm one more time, her fake sympathy faltering. “Of course, dear,” she said, stepping back. “But remember, we’re your family." She gave me a side-eye before looking back at Elijah. "We’re here for you.” With that, they turned and walked away, their chatter fading as they left.

I turned back to Elijah. His shoulders were slumped, his exhaustion and grief obvious now that they were gone. “I’m sorry about that,” I said softly.

He shook his head and let out a tired sigh. “Don’t be. It's not even your fault. That’s just how they are. I'm thankful that, despite never liking Miranda, they fled hours to come to see her off."

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AFTER THE MOURNFUL WEEKEND, EARLY MORNING AT SILVER ARC ENTERTAINMENT...

The office was quieter than usual. Mondays were normally busy, but today felt slower. Maybe it was because Elijah hadn't arrived yet, despite it being 9:15 AM. No wonder an office needs its CEO, like a school needs its principal. Both employees and students work their best when they are under the CEO’s and principal’s supervision.

I was at my desk, outside Elijah’s office, going through emails, when I heard the sharp click of heels. Jamie. She came into view, dressed like she was heading to a red carpet. Her tailored black coat, cinched perfectly at the waist, had a glossy fur collar that practically glinted under the soft office lighting. Beneath the coat, a fitted burgundy dress hugged her figure—the kind of dress that screamed high-end designer. Her Cinderella heels, literally made of glass and adorned with diamonds, clicked sharply with every step, demanding attention.

She never visited the office much, at least not this early in the morning, which meant something big and dramatic was about to happen. And I’m getting a hundred percent sure vibe that I’m personally going to hate it.

To be continued...