His assistant, his obsession

The jealous CEO

Dante stood near the elevator, arms crossed, as the doors slid open with a soft chime. Out stepped Ashford Hayes—tall, crisp in a tailored grey suit, Harvard-educated, and irritatingly smooth. He was everything Dante hated in a man: confident, too polished, and far too self-assured for someone who hadn’t even earned his place yet.

“Morning, sir,” Ashford said with a smirk, adjusting his tie.

Dante gave a curt nod.

Then, the second elevator opened—and his world shifted.

Sienna.

She stepped out slowly, her eyes scanning the office. Her long coat was dusted with light raindrops, and her expression unreadable. Dante’s breath caught for a split second.

“You came back,” he said, barely above a whisper.

She met his gaze. “For the job. That’s all.”

He tried to mask the pang in his chest. “Right.”

Ashford stepped forward, far too eager. “Miss Brooks, I’ll help you get caught up. We’ll make a great team.”

“Keep your hands to yourself, Ashford,” Dante snapped, eyes narrowing.

Ashford raised a brow, clearly amused. “Didn’t realize she was taken.”

“She isn’t,” Sienna said quickly, glancing away.

But Dante’s jaw clenched like stone.

The rest of the day unraveled from there.

Ashford hovered around Sienna’s desk like a vulture, constantly finding reasons to talk to her. He asked for help on files he should’ve mastered already, stood too close when she pulled up spreadsheets, and even brought her coffee with a wink. Sienna, ever polite, didn’t shut him down—but Dante noticed every flicker of discomfort in her eyes.

It drove him mad.

The final straw came during the afternoon boardroom meeting. Ashford leaned back in his chair, far too casual, and said, “So, should I take lead on the new proposal? Sienna’s already briefed me—brilliantly, I might add.”

Dante’s chair scraped loudly as he stood.

“You won’t be working with Sienna anymore,” he said, voice low but sharp.

The room went silent.

Ashford straightened. “I didn’t realize you were reassigning staff without notice.”

“I am now.”

“Is there a reason—”

“Yes,” Dante cut in coldly. “Because I said so. That should be enough.”

Ashford held up his hands. “Sure, boss. Message received.”

After the meeting, Dante stormed back to his office, chest tight. He couldn’t shake the image of Sienna smiling at someone else. Laughing. Not because of him.

His gaze fell on a small sticky note by his laptop.

Conference call at 4. Don’t forget to eat something.

Her handwriting.

A lump rose in his throat.

Without thinking, he grabbed a pen and wrote a quick note of his own. Then he walked to her desk.

She looked up, surprised.

He didn’t speak. Just slid the note toward her and walked away.

She unfolded it slowly.

I’m sorry. I can’t stand seeing anyone else near you.

Her heart skipped.

And for the first time since returning, she didn’t feel like just the assistant.

She felt seen. Wanted.

Maybe… even missed.