Chapter1:The email that should have never been sent
If there was a medal for “Most Dramatic Sigh in the Office,” Clarke Rivers was ninety percent sure she’d win it every Monday morning.
She dropped into her chair at exactly 8:57 a.m., coffee in hand, hair barely tamed into a bun that was already rebelling, and muttered a silent prayer to the gods of caffeine. The open-plan office was already buzzing — keyboards clacking, phones ringing, and three different people trying to look busy because the CEO was somewhere in the building.
Kellen Ward.
The man. The myth. The… very inconvenient distraction.
Clarke didn’t hate her boss. She just… disliked his perfect hair, his perfect suits, and the way his deep voice carried through the entire floor whenever he spoke. It was distracting. Unnecessarily so.
“Morning,” her desk mate, Sophie, chirped, sliding a pastry onto Clarke’s desk like she was smuggling contraband. “Survival sugar. You’ll need it.”
Clarke raised an eyebrow. “Is this because of last week’s ‘Department Reshuffle’ meeting?”
Sophie grimaced. “He’s been in since seven. Which means the whole floor’s walking around like we’re in a military inspection.”
Clarke took a long sip of coffee, opened her laptop, and decided to warm up for the day by writing a private note-to-self — something she’d been doing for years. It was her own stress therapy. No one read them but her.
Subject: Things I’d Tell Kellen Ward If I Had No Filter
1. You don’t have to wear cologne that good, it’s distracting.
2. No human should look like a GQ cover at eight in the morning.
3. You’re probably aware of how intimidating you are — stop enjoying it.
4. Also, please stop existing near the coffee machine when I’m there. My social skills vanish.
She typed fast, smirking to herself. Writing these fake letters to her boss was harmless… until her inbox pinged.
Kellen Ward – URGENT
She clicked it open without thinking, saw the email chain, and — in an act of multitasking stupidity — hit Reply. She’d meant to forward her notes to her personal email. Instead… she hit Send. To him.
The realization hit her halfway through her pastry.
Her eyes widened.
Her heart stopped.
Somewhere in the distance, a printer jammed — like even the machines knew she’d just destroyed her career.
Sophie noticed her frozen state. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Worse,” Clarke croaked. “I just emailed my boss a list titled Things I’d Tell You If I Had No Filter.”
Sophie’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God. Tell me you’re joking.”
Clarke didn’t answer. She was too busy calculating how fast she could pack her things before security escorted her out.
At exactly 9:06 a.m., her phone rang. The caller ID made her stomach drop.
Kellen Ward.
She picked up, praying for sudden amnesia. “H-hello?”
“Miss Rivers,” his voice was smooth, amused. “My office. Now.”
And just like that, Clarke’s Monday had gone from bad to career-ending.
