FORCED TO BE MY BOSS'S SIDE PIECE.

Rage Bait

Koko’s POV

I barely made it into the office by 6:52. My eyes felt like they had been scrubbed with sandpaper. The two hours of restless half-sleep I had managed after reading Wells’s email did nothing to fix the exhaustion that had settled deep in my bones.

The restructuring proposal he sent still sat in my inbox. I had opened the attached contracts at 1:15am, stared at the endless spreadsheets and pages, and felt my brain simply shut down. There was no way. Not in the time I had left.

I set his black coffee on his desk at 6:54, his printed schedule beside it, and retreated to my station like a coward. My hands were still shaking when the intercom crackled.

“Miss Zyaire. My office. Now.”

I stood on unsteady legs and walked in. He was already behind the desk, expression carved from ice. He didn’t look up from the tablet in his hand.

“The Meridian files,” he said flatly. “Where are they?”

My mouth went dry. “I… I don’t have them ready yet.”

The silence that followed was worse than shouting. Slowly, he set the tablet down. His eyes lifted to mine, and whatever thin patience he possessed evaporated.

“You don’t have them ready.”

“No, sir. I—”

The sound of his palm slamming the desk made me flinch. Papers jumped. The coffee cup rattled.

“I sent that assignment at twelve forty seven this morning with a clear deadline of 9am. It is now—” he glanced at his watch, “—7:03. You’ve had more than six hours. Explain to me how an executive secretary fails to deliver the single most important document I asked for.”

I forced the words out. “My car broke down last night on my way home. I was stuck in a bad part of town until almost one in the morning. By the time I got home and saw the email—”

“I don’t want to hear about your damn car!”

“I only got the email at 1am, Mr. Kylo. The amount of work you asked for normally takes a full week. I tried, but I was exhausted and—”

“Exhausted?” His voice rising enough to sound scary. “You think I care that you were tired? You think personal inconvenience is an acceptable excuse in this office? I gave you a task. You failed.”

My cheeks burned. “I wasn’t making excuses, Sir. I was only trying to explain—”

“There is no explanation that matters.” He came around the desk, stopping only a few feet away. Close enough that I could see the muscle ticking in his jaw. “Listen to me carefully, Miss Zyaire, because I will not repeat myself. Your personal life does not exist the moment you step into this building. Car trouble, late nights, whatever drama you have outside these walls? None of it is my concern and none of it is permitted to interfere with the work I assign you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, Mr. Kylo.”

“Good.” He turned back to the desk, already dismissing the conversation. “You will have that entire package, the summary, revised projections, risk assessment, and board briefing on my desk before I have to ask for it a second time. If I get back from my next meeting and it's still not there, you will not have a job by lunch. Clear?”

I swallowed hard. “Clear.”

“While you’re fixing your failure, I need you to organize a private meeting. Key board members only, Patrick, Cole, and Victor. No assistants, no notes leaked to the rest of the board. The meeting is to discuss the acquisition strategy and secure their support for a much larger deal I’m moving on.

Schedule it for tomorrow evening. Private dining room at The Atelier. Confirm their attendance by noon today and send me the details. I want absolute discretion. If word of this meeting reaches anyone it shouldn’t, I will know it came from you.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“See that you do.” He sat again, already reaching for his tablet. “Close the door on your way out.”

I walked back to my desk on legs that felt disconnected from my body. The rest of the building was still quiet, most of the floor workers wouldn’t arrive for at least another hour.

I dropped into my chair and stared at the glowing screen. The Meridian files mocked me from the open folders. Hundreds of pages, complex financial models, cross-references I didn’t have the mental capacity to handle right now.

I started anyway, opening the first contract to study the numbers and arrange them. But my vision blurred. I blinked hard, forcing myself to keep typing. Every few minutes my head would dip and I would jerk upright again.

The private meeting. I needed to email Patrick, Cole, and Victor. Draft the careful, discreet language Wells would expect. Call the restaurant. Confirm the room. But the words on the screen kept sliding out of focus.

I rested my elbows on the desk and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes. Even if it's just for a second. Just long enough to clear the fog.

My head touched the cool leather headrest of my seat. The cool breeze of the air conditioner wrapped around me like a blanket.

I didn’t mean to close my eyes.

I didn’t mean to let the exhaustion win.

But the next thing I knew, there was only darkness and the quiet relief of sleep.