The Day He Broke Me
1016 Words
The morning began like any other.
Cassandra arrived at Celestia Luxe headquarters at seven-thirty sharp, as she always did. Her heels clicked softly against the polished marble floors, her hair neatly tied back, makeup light but precise—professional, calm, collected.
She had to be.
Working for Sebastian Cruz Valverde demanded nothing less.
As she set her things on her desk outside his office, she went through her mental checklist. Meetings lined up. Contracts printed. Calls scheduled. Presentations ready for his review. Everything perfect, because Sebastian demanded perfection.
Because perfection was the only thing that kept her close to him, even if he didn’t know it.
The elevator chimed, and there he was.
Sebastian Cruz Valverde, in his dark gray suit and black tie, expensive watch glinting under the lobby lights, moving through the hallway like he owned the entire building—because he did.
He didn’t greet her when he passed by. He rarely did.
“Coffee,” he said instead, barely glancing her way as he entered his office.
Cassandra nodded, as always. “Yes, sir.”
No “good morning,” no smile. Just orders. Always orders.
She told herself it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.
But some days, it felt like it did.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of calls, paperwork, and muted tension.
Then Rosalind Navarro arrived.
Cassandra heard the click of Rosalind’s stilettos before she even saw her—tall, stunning, the kind of woman who drew eyes wherever she went.
She didn’t knock before stepping into Sebastian’s office.
“Sebastian,” Rosalind said, her voice like silk and honey, “lunch today?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Sure. One o’clock.”
Cassandra froze mid-typing.
She hated that her heart dropped at something so simple. Hated that she was affected at all.
But she was.
Because she would spend her lunch hour alone at her desk while he laughed over wine with Rosalind Navarro, the woman everyone said was the most beautiful in the city.
At twelve-forty-five, Sebastian strode out of his office, jacket in hand, looking like the kind of man who shattered hearts without even trying.
“Cancel the two o’clock meeting,” he told Cassandra.
She kept her eyes on her notes, voice steady. “Yes, sir.”
He didn’t notice the way her hands trembled slightly as she typed.
He didn’t notice the way her throat ached when Rosalind looped her arm through his like they belonged together.
He didn’t notice the way Cassandra kept her eyes down until they disappeared into the elevator.
He never noticed.
They didn’t come back until almost three.
And when they did, Sebastian was in one of his moods. Something about a deal falling through, investors being difficult, timelines being tight.
Cassandra handed him the latest reports, careful, efficient, professional.
He skimmed the papers, jaw tight.
“This is wrong,” he snapped.
She blinked. “Sir?”
“The projections,” he said sharply, tossing the papers back onto her desk. “These numbers don’t match the last report.”
Cassandra quickly flipped through the pages. “They do match, sir. The earlier report had revised figures. You approved them last week.”
He glared at her like the entire thing was her fault. “Then why the hell does it look inconsistent? Do you realize how this makes me look in front of the board?”
She swallowed hard. “I—I can fix it right away.”
“Fix it now,” he barked. “And stop making excuses.”
Her chest tightened, but she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Because that’s what she always said.
Yes, sir.
Even when she wanted to scream.
Even when she wanted to ask him why he could smile at Rosalind but only ever raised his voice at her.
An hour later, she brought the corrected file into his office.
Sebastian barely looked up. “Leave it.”
She set it on his desk. “It’s accurate now. The revisions are clear—”
“I said leave it, Cassandra.”
Her name. Sharp. Cold. Like she was the problem.
Something inside her cracked then, just a little.
Because she wasn’t the problem.
She wasn’t the one wasting time on dates with Rosalind Navarro when deals were falling apart.
She wasn’t the one snapping at people who had nothing to do with his stress.
She wasn’t the one making this personal.
But he made her feel like she was.
Like she was failing him somehow, when all she ever did was give him everything.
“Sir,” she said softly, surprising even herself.
He finally looked up, brows furrowed. “What?”
Her heart pounded, but the words slipped out before she could stop them. “Why do you always talk to me like this?”
His frown deepened. “Like what?”
“Like I’m nothing more than someone to shout at.” Her voice wavered, but she held his gaze. “Like I don’t do everything I can for you. Like I’m not… human.”
Silence.
For a second, just a second, something flickered in his eyes. Surprise. Maybe even guilt.
But then it was gone, replaced by that same wall of indifference.
“Cassandra,” he said flatly, “if you can’t handle this job, you know where the door is.”
The words hit harder than any shout ever could.
She nodded stiffly, backing out of his office before he could see the tears threatening to fall.
In the restroom, she locked the door and sank against the cold tile wall, biting her lip so hard it nearly bled.
She had given him five years.
Five years of loyalty. Five years of late nights and early mornings. Five years of loving him silently, fiercely, hopelessly.
And he reduced her to someone replaceable in a single sentence.
When she returned to her desk, her eyes were dry, her expression calm.
But something in her had changed.
Because this was the day Sebastian Cruz Valverde finally broke her.
And he didn’t even know it.
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