MARRIED TO MY RUTHLESS BOSS

TWO; The Perfect Assistant

Sephora Simons had been Daniel Mallik's personal assistant for two years, and in all that time, he'd never called her by her first name.

It didn't bother her. Not really.

She sat at her desk just outside his office, fingers flying across her keyboard as she reorganized his entire calendar—again. A client meeting in Tokyo had suddenly shifted. A board member needed to reschedule. The merger team wanted a status update. She moved everything like a chess player, thinking three moves ahead.

By the time Daniel emerged from his office at 8:47 AM, every conflict was resolved. The time zone issues were handled. The conference room was booked. The necessary parties had been notified. And he would never know it had been a problem at all.

That was the job.

'Simons. The Ashford meeting is in thirty minutes. They want to start discussing subsidiary options.' His voice was all business. He didn't even glance at her, just grabbed the tablet she'd prepared with all the relevant documents.

'I know. Conference room three. I also moved your 2 PM with Hendricks to 3:30 because his flight lands late. And your mother called—she said it's about the charity gala.'

He paused. For a second. Just long enough that she looked up from her screen.

'You didn't take a message?'

'I did. She wants to know if you're bringing a date.'

His jaw tightened. 'Tell her no.'

'Already did.'

He studied her for a moment, and Sephora felt the weight of that attention like a physical thing. Most people bent under Daniel Mallik's gaze. They tried to be what he needed, contorted themselves to fit his expectations.

Sephora just sat at her desk and organized his life.

'What would I do without you?' he said, but it wasn't really a question. It was the kind of thing people said when someone was useful. Essential. Necessary.

'Probably show up late to every meeting.' She smiled, and for a moment, she saw something flicker across his face. Recognition, maybe. Or just acknowledgment that she existed beyond her competence.

Then he was gone, tablet in hand, heading toward the conference room where important men were waiting to negotiate subsidiary options. That was Daniel Mallik—always moving toward the next win, the next deal, the next thing that proved he was better than everyone else.

Sephora made a note to call her mother back during lunch. Her medication had to be refilled, and the insurance company was being difficult about covering it again. She'd been difficult about a lot of things lately.

She pulled up her to-do list and added: 'Insurance company. Again.' Then she drank her cold tea and got back to work, organizing Daniel's world so he'd never have to think about anything except winning.

At 3:15 PM, Daniel rushed back to his office, papers in hand, anger radiating off him like heat.

'Simons. Get me the Ashford subsidiary files. The original ones from 2019. And I need them in the next ten minutes.' He didn't wait for an answer. He just disappeared back into his office and slammed the door.

Sephora was already pulling up the files. She'd anticipated this. She'd always anticipated this. By the time Daniel looked for them, they'd be on his screen, organized chronologically, with notes on every change.

She sent them to him at 3:24 PM.

At 5:47 PM, Daniel emerged with a look on his face that was almost satisfied. Almost like he'd won. He looked at her sitting at her desk, tablet in hand, already pulling up tomorrow's calendar adjustments.

'You're still here?'

'Your 6 AM call with London. I'm confirming the dial-in information.' She'd already confirmed it twice. But she'd do it again if that's what it took to make sure his morning was seamless.

He nodded once. 'Good. Go home. Get some sleep.'

'You should too.'

He didn't answer. He just walked toward the elevator, and Sephora watched him go with the quiet certainty of someone who knew exactly how this would end. He wouldn't sleep. He'd work until midnight, then go to his penthouse and lie awake thinking about the merger and the deal and everything he had yet to win.

And tomorrow, she'd be here before him. With his coffee exactly the way he liked it. Organized, efficient, invisible.

That was the job. And Sephora Simons was very, very good at her job.