My Psychotic Boss

A Subtle Switch

It was a Thursday, one of those odd, quiet days that didn't feel like the week was ending but didn't feel like it had just started either. The sky outside was overcast, a muted gray hanging above the city like a curtain that refused to be lifted. Seren had the day off from work, a rare slice of time for herself.

She'd spent the morning catching up on housework, rearranging her little collection of succulents on the windowsill, sipping coffee slowly instead of gulping it down. But as the afternoon rolled around, her mind circled back to one thing: the date that never quite happened.

The last time she and Rowan had gone out, what was supposed to be a moment just for them, Delaney had been there too. She had showed up uninvited, slid in beside Rowan with that signature grin, and what should have been a tender evening turned into a friendly hangout. Seren hadn't said anything at the time, but the disappointment had lingered like the aftertaste of too-strong tea.

So, at around 2:00 p.m., she called Rowan.

He answered after a couple rings. His voice was steady, calm, maybe a bit distracted. "Hey, Seren."

"Hey," she said, trying to keep her tone bright. "I was wondering... Since today's my day off and you're working late, maybe we could redo our dinner? Just you and me this time." There was a slight pause on the line. Then Rowan replied, "Yeah, that sounds good. Let's try tonight."

"Great," she said, smiling to herself.

"Okay, I'll see you then," he added quickly before the call ended.

The abrupt hang-up left Seren blinking at her phone. She hadn't even gotten the chance to say "I love you." Still, she let it go. Rowan was probably busy, buried in work with Delaney again. She pushed aside her unease and decided to put effort into getting ready. Tonight would be better. It had to be.

Back at Velvore Foods, the office was quieter than usual, the kind of lull that invited subtle power plays and unspoken tension.

Malrick sat at his desk, a minimalist shrine of cold efficiency, no photos, no clutter, just a pristine monitor, a sleek desk lamp, and a pen holder with one too-perfectly-arranged pen. He wore a tailored black shirt today, the sleeves rolled just slightly above his wrists, revealing sharp cuffs and veins running like map lines along his hands.

He hadn't meant to listen in on the conversation. Not exactly. But Seren's voice had floated in faintly from the hallway, clear enough to catch his interest. She had been calling Rowan, and her soft hopefulness clung to each word like dew on glass. A quiet, pitiful date redo.

Malrick's lips curled into a grin so faint it barely moved his mouth. But his eyes gleamed with something else entirely, calculated amusement. He turned in his chair, pushing back with an elegant slowness before rising to his feet. Outside the office, Rowan and Delaney were gathered near the copier. Rowan looked half-tired, scanning over a report. Delaney was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, chatting about something trivial, her voice the usual combination of teasing and charm. Malrick approached them like a shadow growing long in the afternoon light. "Rowan. Delaney." His voice was soft and calm, but it always carried the weight of authority, especially when paired with that cold undertone only few could hear.

They turned to him. "I need the two of you to oversee the vendor auditing report for the third quarter," he said, holding out a folder with thick stacks of papers inside. "It's time-sensitive. Corporate needs a breakdown before tomorrow." Rowan blinked. "All of it?"

"Yes. Tonight."

Delaney groaned under her breath. "Seriously?"

Malrick smiled faintly. "I'm afraid so. It's been left sitting far too long." He handed the folder to Rowan, letting his fingers brush Rowan's just enough to feel how reluctant he was. Then Malrick's gaze flicked to Delaney. She was glaring at him behind a mask of sugar. But she didn't speak.

Without another word, Malrick turned and walked away, the sound of his shoes echoing against the polished floor. He returned to his office, shut the door quietly, and sat back down. He reached into the bottom drawer and retrieved a different folder, one he had fabricated himself with dummy data. It didn't matter. It only needed to exist long enough to chain Rowan to his desk. Malrick tapped his pen against the desk once, then leaned back and looked out through the blinds toward the city.

Later that evening, Seren stood in the dim light of a cozy bistro, a soft place nestled between two tall buildings on a quiet street. The tables were candlelit, with dark wood finishes and low jazz playing from speakers mounted on the walls. It was the kind of place that begged for private conversations and quiet smiles.

She had arrived five minutes early, as always. Dressed in a soft cream blouse with lace trim and a subtle pink skirt, she looked timeless, elegant without trying. She chose a corner table with a view of the entrance and waited. Ten minutes passed. She texted him.

[Seren]: Hey, I'm here. You on your way?

No response.

Another ten minutes. She tried calling.

No answer.

She stared at her phone for a moment longer, then placed it face-down on the table. The candle beside her flickered. The waiter came by once to offer her a drink. She declined, saying she was waiting for someone. By the time forty minutes had passed, her stomach had knotted with disappointment. She reached for her phone again, preparing to leave. Maybe he got caught up. Maybe Delaney needed something. Maybe... Her eyes caught movement.

Across the bar, in a darker corner with a low amber light overhead, sat a man in black. Malrick. He was sipping something dark, maybe whiskey, his fingers curled around the glass like he was holding a secret. He wasn't looking at her, not yet, but she could feel his presence like a sudden drop in temperature. Her chest tightened.

After a beat, his eyes finally met hers. He raised his glass just slightly, like an unspoken toast. Seren froze, her breath caught between confusion and discomfort. What was he doing here? Had he known? A moment later, Malrick rose from his seat, straightened his shirt, and walked toward her table with a measured grace. "Seren," he greeted, his voice as soft as ever. "Waiting alone?"

She hesitated. "...I was."

"I figured as much." He pulled the chair out across from her and sat down uninvited. "I was just finishing a drink. Thought I'd say hello."

Seren looked toward the entrance again, still hoping Rowan would appear. But he didn't. Malrick followed her gaze and smiled faintly, knowingly. "He's still working. Very busy tonight."

Her head snapped back toward him. "You know that?"

Malrick tilted his head slightly. "I'm his supervisor."

There was something in his tone, light, cordial, but with a twist of something else. Like he was playing a piano melody just slightly out of key. Seren didn't know what to say. She reached for her water, suddenly wishing it were wine. Malrick leaned back in his seat and studied her quietly for a moment. "You looked lovely waiting here. Like a painting."

She blinked. "That's... kind of you."

He watched her, his expression unreadable. "You deserve to be waited for, not left waiting."

Seren looked away, unsure whether it was a compliment or a threat disguised in politeness. Maybe both. "I should go," she said quietly, starting to stand.

Malrick remained seated. "Would you like me to walk you home?"