After One Night

"Phoebe, pack your things and report to the CEO's office now!" the HR manager, Alvis, commanded.

Phoebe, who had been carefully organizing documents at her desk, immediately stopped what she was doing and responded, "Got it, sir!"

"I mean NOW! Don't keep him waiting!" Alvis urged. Phoebe didn't dare hesitate any longer and hurriedly stood up to gather her belongings.

Ten minutes later, she was on the top floor, her arms full of items.

The company had been doing well, but for some reason, it was mysteriously acquired by an unknown corporation last week, and with that, a new boss had taken over.

The news had shocked the entire staff, including Phoebe. But what puzzled her even more was how she had inexplicably become the new CEO's secretary.

Was she lucky or unlucky?

On the one hand, her salary had doubled, but on the other, she had suddenly become the target of envy and hostility from the female employees.

As she stepped out of the elevator and arrived at the CEO's office door, she knocked lightly and politely said, "Sir, I'm your new secretary, here to report for duty!"

"..."

No response.

Thinking the new CEO hadn't heard her, Phoebe raised her voice slightly and repeated, "Sir, I'm your new secretary, here to report!"

Still, there was no sound. Phoebe grew nervous. Had she knocked wrong, or was it the way she spoke?

As her mind raced with various thoughts, a deep, magnetic voice finally broke the silence.

"Come in."

Two words, simple and cold, yet with a husky edge.

Phoebe's heart skipped a beat. That voice-it felt strangely familiar.

A face flashed in her mind, and her heart ached with a dull pain.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she told herself not to think about it.

That man was long gone from her life. For the past five years, she had lived peacefully, happy with her children. Why was she even thinking about him?

Pushing away the thoughts, Phoebe quietly opened the door and walked in.

"Hello, sir, I'm Phoebe Garcia, your new secretary!" she introduced herself politely, staring at the figure with his back to her.

But the moment he turned around, and their eyes met-those cold, piercing eyes-Phoebe froze in place.

The items in her hands scattered across the floor as her face filled with shock and terror.

Instinctively, she stepped back, retreating toward the door. As her legs wobbled from the shock, she nearly fell but caught herself against the wall.

Just as she steadied herself and was about to make a run for it, a strong arm suddenly grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the wall.

"Phoebe Garcia? Where do you think you're going?" His voice was low, filled with hatred, each word spoken through gritted teeth.

"Bastard! Let go of me!" Phoebe struggled to break free, biting down on her lip in frustration.

Fate had a cruel sense of humor-she had wondered why something so good had fallen into her lap. Now she knew-it was this bastard pulling the strings! She had worked so hard to stay out of his life, to disappear entirely. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

"Let go!" she demanded, her voice tight with anger, pushing him as hard as she could. But the strength difference between a man and a woman was too great-her efforts were futile.

"Phoebe, do you really think I'll let you go this time?" His dark, obsidian-like eyes grew even more intense as he tightened his grip on her wrist, deliberately causing her pain.