Enslaving My Ex-Boss

Carolina Reaper

[Hazel]



I gently pulled Elijah’s hand away from my wrist. “I need to get Jamie’s drink,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. Without waiting for a response, I turned and left the room.

A Few Minutes Later…

The door to the CEO’s office stood half-open, and inside, Elijah was still there—at least for now. He stood by the desk, no longer the commanding presence of a CEO, but a man packing away remnants of a title he’d once earned. Cardboard box in hand, he quietly collected the pieces that mattered to him the most : framed photos, awards, a silver pen set, a few personal books.

I knocked twice, my knuckles light against the glass door.

“Well, well, well,” Jamie’s voice slithered through the room like syrup-coated poison, the kind of sweetness that left a bitter aftertaste. “Look who’s back.” She didn’t bother to rise from her perch—balanced elegantly yet arrogantly on the edge of the CEO’s desk—her manicured fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the polished surface. Her lips curled into a smug smile, eyes gleaming with petty satisfaction as if she’d been waiting for this exact moment. “Zade,” she called, her tone airy and dismissive, like he was just another servant summoned to entertain her whim.

Across the room, Zade sprawled on the white couch like a king without a kingdom—one leg draped over the other, arms lazily crossed behind his head. He looked like someone flipping through the final season of a long-running family drama, popcorn practically in hand. At the sound of his name, he shifted, rising with exaggerated leisure, dragging out the moment for his own amusement. “Yes?” he drawled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, clearly relishing the chaos unraveling in front of him.

“Open the door for our secretary of the year,” she said, gesturing toward me with mock reverence. “She’s really outdone herself today. She deserves a proper welcome.” Her eyes flitted to Elijah, inwardly gloating at his silence.

Zade smirked, strolling to the door and pulling it open with exaggerated flourish. “Madam,” he said sarcastically.

I walked in, calm and composed, holding Jamie’s coffee with both hands like it was a sacred offering. Without a word, I handed the cup to her.

“Wow,” she breathed, feeling the cup’s warmth. “The temperature feels perfect.” She opened the lid and eyed the cinnamon foam approvingly. “Good.” She gave a curt nod, then blew across the top and took a sip.

One Mississippi... Two Mississippi... Three—

The coffee cup flew toward the couch where Zade had been lounging, and if it weren’t for his quick reflexes, the scalding liquid would’ve landed on him instead of the pristine white cushions. Damn. The couch didn’t deserve that.

“What the f**k, Jamie?!” Zade snapped, glaring at her as he jumped to his feet. I followed his gaze—landing on Jamie, whose eyes had widened into full moons. Her mouth hung open in horror just before the fire ignited.

She let out a guttural scream, hands flailing as she staggered backward. “It burns! My tongue! My throat!” she howled, her voice cracking into a raw panic as she coughed violently, gasping for breath. Tears streamed down her bloodshot eyes.

Her skin flushed a deep crimson, sweat breaking across her forehead. “WATER! Oh my God, my tongue!” she screeched, swiping blindly across the desk in desperate search of relief.

“The mini-fridge is over there,” I said sweetly, pointing to the corner with the same amused smile she wore earlier while watching Elijah pack up his things.

Jamie scrambled across the room like a storm of limbs, yanking open the fridge and chugging a bottle of water like it was her last chance at survival. Her hands shook so hard the water spilled down her chin, soaking the front of her blouse.

From the side, I caught Elijah’s eye. He arched a brow at me, silently mouthing, What did you do?

I gave a shrug, mouthing back with mock innocence, Nothing.

“Uh… Jamie?” Zade’s voice cut through her panicked gulps. He was staring down at the overturned coffee cup now resting upside-down on the once-white couch—its cushion stained with a dramatic, blood-red bloom.

His expression twisted in confusion. “Since when did caramel macchiatos come in red?”

Jamie froze mid-chug.

“Ohhh,” I gasped with exaggerated shock, pressing a hand to my chest. “Did you say caramel macchiato?” I leaned forward slightly.

“Oops. I must’ve misheard. I thought you said… Carolina Reaper macchiato.”

Jamie choked. “WHAT?!”

I tilted my head, playing dumb. “Didn’t you order a triple-shot, half-caf, soy milk Carolina Reaper macchiato with exactly three pumps of sugar-free Carolina Reaper juice, two pumps of Carolina Reaper smoothie, a drizzle of concentrated Carolina Reaper extract—not syrup—on top, made to 150 degrees, with a sprinkle of cinnamon on the foam?”

From Elijah’s direction came a muffled chuckle. He quickly turned away, shoulders shaking as he tried to suppress it.

“You—” Jamie started, voice trembling with fury.

“Oops!” I interrupted with a wide-eyed look. “Guess I got your order wrong.” I clapped my hands together in a gentle forgive me gesture, all sweet and innocent on the outside—though it had absolutely nothing to do with how I actually felt inside. “And since you said you’d fire me for that…” I turned to Elijah with a knowing smile. “Boss, is your offer for the COO’s secretary still on the table?”

Elijah straightened up, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Y-yes,” he said, doing a terrible job of hiding the grin tugging at his lips.

“Perfect.” I reached into the pocket of my skirt and pulled out a crisp envelope. I walked up to Jamie, still gasping and fuming. “Mrs. Jamie Davenport Harrison,” I said sweetly, placing the envelope squarely on the desk, “here is my resignation letter—from Hazel Addams. I sincerely hope you find someone better suited to your... spice level.”

Without waiting for her reaction, I walked over to Elijah and gently took the box from his arms. “Do you want this book as well?” I asked, plucking a hardcover off the shelf and holding it up with one hand.

Elijah stared at me, a stunned smile spreading across his face like sunlight through clouds.

“I think I’ll let you pick which ones we keep,” he said, his voice low and warm.

I nodded, the tension in the room still simmering, but for the first time after a while, I saw Elijah smile genuinely. And this small victory to make my boss smile tasted a hell of a lot better and stronger than Carolina Reaper.

To be continued…