Fated to my annoying CEO

Episode two

Mia stirred at the relentless buzzing of her phone, the sound drilling into her skull like an insistent mosquito.

With a groan, she fumbled blindly for it on the bedside table, knocking down her water bottle and a pen,her limbs heavy, fingers sluggish. Her eyelids barely cracked open, bloodshot and burning from exhaustion.

"Who in their right mind calls someone at 4 a.m in the morning? Psychopaths?? Criminals??"

She squinted at the screen. The name flashing across it made her jaw tighten.

'Nightmare'

Mia exhaled through her nose. Of course. Who else would it be?

Her thumb hovered over the decline button. She could ignore it, pretend she was dead. But she knew if she didn't pick up, the calls wouldn't stop .

“ I should have taken a month off, not three measly days”.

Resigning herself to fate, she tapped the green button and brought the phone to her ear.

The voice on the other end was immediate, sharp.

"Why the hell didn’t you pick up sooner? I wasted five whole minutes trying to reach you."

Mia clenched her teeth. "Good morning, Mr. Raymond." Her voice was all sugar-coated irritation. "What can I do for you?"

"What do you mean? Can’t a boss call to check on his assistant?" His tone was dripping with mock innocence. "Anyway, do you have the documents ready for signing?"

Mia squeezed her eyes shut, dragging a slow hand down her face. "Sir, before I went on leave, I personally told you I handed them over to Steph. Did she not give them to you?" She made sure to yawn, long and obnoxious, just to make a point.

"If you’d submitted them yourself, I wouldn’t be calling now, would I? As my personal assistant, this is your job, not Steph’s."

Her fingers curled into the sheets. "Sir. She is your secretary. I handle your schedule. She handles your documents."

"Jeez, no need to get feisty."

Mia’s eye twitched. "Is this really why you called?"

"As a matter of fact, no." His tone was far too casual, which meant she was about to hate whatever came next. "Don’t forget to grab my breakfast on your way in—toast, eggs, bacon, just the way I like it. Oh, and fruit jui—"

"Hello? Hello? Boss? You're breaking up!"

She didn’t even wait for his response before ending the call.

Mia flopped back against her pillow, staring at the ceiling.

“I don’t get paid enough for this”.

Before she could even breathe out a sigh of relief, her phone buzzed again.

She let out a slow, dangerous breath before picking up. "What now?"

There was a pause. Then, his voice, teasing. "By the way, why’d you even take a leave? Three days isn’t much of a vacation. What exactly were you doing?"

Mia scoffed. "Oh, you know. The usual. Exotic getaways. Skydiving over the Alps. Sipping cocktails on a private island."

Raymond chuckled. "Seriously."

She let out a slow breath, staring blankly at the ceiling . "I slept, sir. I slept, ate, watched TV, and regretted not quitting this job. That’s what I did."

"Wow. Sounds productive."

"Extremely."

"Well, now that you’re well-rested—"

She hung up.

This time, she powered her phone off.

An hour later, the blaring of her alarm dragged her out of sleep again. Mia groaned, sitting up and rubbing the exhaustion from her face.

She showered, dressed in her usual office attire, and tied her hair into a loose ponytail before grabbing her handbag. Her fingers automatically unzipped it to slide in her phone—then stopped.

Her eyes landed on something small and red, coiled at the bottom of the bag like a forgotten secret.

The red thread.

For a moment, she just stared at it.

A memory flickered—dim lights, the scent of incense, the fortune teller’s eerie voice. "Your fate is tied to him."

Mia snorted. "I can’t believe that woman duped me out of ten dollars for a piece of string."

Still, her fingers hovered over it. She had no reason to keep it, but throwing it away felt… wrong.

Rolling her eyes at herself, she pulled the thread out and tucked it into the drawer of her nightstand. "Might as well keep it safe," she muttered. "Maybe one day I’ll actually find my ‘destiny person.’" The sarcasm in her voice was sharp.

She shut the drawer with a decisive thunk and left for work.

The coffee shop near her office was already bustling by the time she arrived. The scent of roasted beans and warm pastries filled the air, but it did nothing to lift her mood.

She ordered Raymond’s breakfast and grabbed a large black coffee for herself, then checked her phone—six missed calls.

Mia inhaled, exhaled. "Calm. Think of your blood pressure".

She answered. "Yes, sir?"

"Where are you?"

"On my way."

"Did you get my breakfast?"

Mia’s grip on the paper bag tightened. "Yes, sir."

"Good. You’re fifteen minutes late."

She checked her watch. "It’s 7:45."

"Exactly. You should have been here at 7:30."

Mia pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sir, office hours start at nine."

"I like to be early."

"Then be early by yourself", she wanted to say but instead forced a tight- lipped smile.

"I'll be there soon".

Forcing her voice into something vaguely polite, she said, "I’ll be there soon."

By the time she reached the office, she was balancing a coffee cup in one hand, a breakfast bag in the other and her will to live hanging by a thin vine.

She barely knocked before stepping inside, setting the bag down with a little more force than necessary. "Here’s your breakfast, sir."

Raymond barely glanced up. "Took you long enough."

Mia smiled sweetly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "Would you like me to chew it for you, too?"

Raymond smirked. "Feisty today, aren’t we?"

Mia turned on her heel. "I should’ve just stayed asleep."

"Next time I'm going on a one month leave and I'm turning my phone off."

The rest of the morning dragged. Meetings, emails, schedules—Mia buried herself in work, her brain on autopilot.

But sometime after lunch, something strange happened.

She reached into her handbag for her notepad and—

Her fingers brushed against something soft.

Frowning, she pulled it out.

The red thread.

Mia froze.

She distinctly remembered putting it in her drawer. Had she been so out of it that she tossed it back in her bag?

Her stomach twisted.

Shaking her head, she set it on her desk. "I’m losing it," she muttered.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Come in," she called.

It was Raymond.

He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with that usual unreadable expression. "Mia, I need you to—" He trailed off.

His gaze flicked to her desk.

To the red thread.

Mia frowned. "What?"

Raymond didn’t answer right away. His jaw tensed, his usual sharp demeanor faltering for just a fraction of a second. It was gone almost instantly, replaced by his normal, detached air.

"Nothing," he said smoothly. "Just… make sure my next meeting isn’t delayed."

Mia watched him walk away.

A strange feeling curled in her chest.

Like something had just shifted.

She glanced back at the thread.

For the first time, it didn’t feel so ridiculous anymore.