Rejected by my Ex, Claimed by His Billionaire Boss

My Assistant

The entire night, Renée tossed and turned, unable to shake the image of Killian's intense eyes from her mind. It frustrated her to no end.

“Agh! Why did the sun have to rise so early?” she groaned, pulling herself out of bed, her body heavy with exhaustion. She dragged her feet to the washroom, freshened up, and dressed quickly. As she exited her room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she was greeted by an unexpected sight—Killian was sitting on the sofa, casually reading a newspaper.

“You should learn to wake up earlier,” Killian remarked coolly, lowering the newspaper and placing it on the coffee table.

“I was tired,” Renée replied, though in her head she added, 'And it's your fault I couldn’t sleep at all!'

Killian didn’t seem to care. His eyes flicked to his wristwatch, and he asked, “Didn’t you ask me for a job?”

Renée’s eyes widened in sudden realization. Today could be the day he would test her, maybe even put her through an interview. She felt her heart race, anxiety creeping in.

“Be my assistant,” Killian announced, his tone decisive. “You have five minutes to get ready.”

“Wait, what? Why am I your assistant? Mark is your secretary!” Renée stammered, her bewildered gaze meeting his steely eyes.

“I transferred him this morning to another department. Besides, he’s getting married next week and has already taken leave from work,” Killian explained, his expression unreadable as he rose from the chair. His voice grew colder. “Now hurry up, you’ve already wasted three of those five minutes.”

Renée quickly glanced down at herself, confused. “But I am ready.”

Killian’s sharp gaze scanned her from head to toe, his expression tightening with disapproval. “You call those professional clothes?”

Renée looked down at her outfit—she had put on a simple dress, comfortable but casual. It was hardly what someone would consider formal work attire.

Killian, clearly annoyed, crossed the room with an air of impatience. “This isn’t a vacation, Renée. If you want to work for me, you better start dressing like it. Now, change into something appropriate. And don’t make me wait.”

Renée stood there, stunned by his words, as Killian’s commanding presence loomed over her. She was beginning to realize just how demanding this man could be, and that being his assistant wasn’t going to be easy.

Renée hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to expect, but before she could reach into the cupboard herself, Killian stepped forward, pulling out a sleek, professional suit—a crisp white blouse paired with a tailored black blazer and matching pencil skirt.

“Wear this,” he instructed, his voice leaving no room for argument. He paused for a moment before adding, “And you know how to drive, right?”

Renée blinked in surprise at the sudden shift in conversation. “Yes, I learned last year. Why?”

“You’ll be driving me from today onward,” Killian replied matter-of-factly. He took a step closer, his eyes locking with hers in that familiar, intense gaze. “Make sure you learn everything quickly because I don’t have patience. And I get angry easily.”

Renée barely suppressed an eye roll as he turned on his heel and walked toward the door. 'Of course, he gets angry easily', she thought, but kept it to herself. With a sigh, she grabbed the outfit and went back to her room.

She changed into the formal suit, feeling the fabric cling to her in all the right places, and quickly tied her hair into a neat ponytail. Slipping into the black pencil heels that completed the look, she took a quick glance at herself in the mirror.

She looked professional, sharp, and far more prepared than she felt. Without wasting another second, she hurried downstairs.

As she reached the bottom of the staircase, Killian appeared before her, not missing a beat. Without a word, he handed her a hefty stack of files, which she barely managed to hold onto. “Follow me,” he commanded, walking out the door.

Renée shifted the files in her arms and rushed after him. 'What exactly have I gotten myself into?' she wondered, trailing behind him as he made his way to the car. Today was clearly going to be a long day for her.

"I haven't had my breakfast. He is a tyrant boss," she murmured.

Sitting inside the car, Renée was momentarily taken aback by the luxurious interior. The plush leather seats, the sleek dashboard, and the state-of-the-art technology—it was clear this car cost more than she could ever imagine. With a deep breath, she started the engine and focused on the task at hand, driving them both to the office.

When they arrived, Renée carefully applied the brakes and watched as Killian stepped out without even a glance back at her. "Meet me in my office," he said, his tone commanding as usual, before striding confidently through the revolving doors.

Renée sighed in exasperation. "And where is your office?" she asked, but her shout was met with no response. Killian had already vanished into the building.

Shaking her head, she parked the car in the designated spot and gathered the stack of files before rushing inside the company.

The security at the entrance didn’t stop her, clearly recognizing who she was. As Renée made her way through the lobby, she could feel the envious stares of several women, while some men’s eyes lingered on her.

She tried to ignore the attention, reminding herself she was here for work, not to engage with onlookers.

Approaching the reception, Renée asked about the location of the CEO’s office. Before the receptionist could respond, a middle-aged woman, with a warm yet professional demeanor, approached her. "Hello, Miss Renée. Here’s your ID card. Please, follow me."

Renée greeted her back with a polite smile, grateful for the help, and glanced down at her new ID card as she followed the woman to the elevator. Seeing her name next to the title 'Assistant to the CEO' brought a smile to her lips. 'I can’t believe I’m officially an employee of Morrison Groups,' she thought with a surge of pride.

She was more happy becoming the assistant to Killian than a wife for him for a year.

The elevator dinged, snapping Renée out of her thoughts. She thanked the woman and stepped out, finding herself directly inside the CEO's office.

Her eyes widened at the sight. The interior was breathtaking—sleek, modern, and impeccably designed with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city.

And there, seated on a large, imposing swivel chair behind an even more impressive desk, was Killian. He looked completely at ease, his presence dominating the room. His eyes met hers briefly, a silent acknowledgment, as if he had been expecting her all along.

"Here are the files," Renée said, placing them on the desk.

"Mark has sent an email for you. Check it and tell me about my meetings. Make sure you do it quick. Your desk is outside my office," Killian said. "And make a coffee for me before beginning the work," he instructed her.

"Sure, Sir!" Renée turned around. 'Why do I feel like he's bullying me?' she squinted her eyes.