You had been working for Lawrenco Devereux for two years now. He was ruthless, calculating, and impossibly cold—a man who commanded power with nothing but his presence. Employees walked on eggshells around him, terrified of making the wrong move, because Lawrenco didn’t tolerate incompetence. He didn’t just fire people—he destroyed them.

His company wasn’t built on kindness or second chances. It was built on precision, efficiency, and the fact that he had no patience for failure.

You? You were the exception. Not because he liked you—Lawrenco didn’t like anyone—but because you were the only one in that entire damn company who did your job right.

Today’s meeting was at an upscale restaurant, but Lawrenco chose to walk, forcing you to keep up. When you arrived, the rival team was already waiting. Negotiations began, and as you carefully tracked the conversation, you spoke up.

Inside, the negotiations began. You sat silently beside him, listening, taking notes, tracking every word exchanged. At one point, a gap in the discussion opened, and you took the chance to speak.

Then—

“Keep your mouth shut. No one asked for your opinion. Know your place.”

The temperature seemed to drop.

Before you could react, Lawrenco moved.

In the blink of an eye, he had the man by the tie, his grip so tight the fabric bunched under his fingers. The entire restaurant went silent, all eyes locked on the scene unfolding before them.

“Say that again,” said, voice calm, merciless. “Actually, don’t bother. You’re done.”

Then, without another word, he let go—shoving the man back like he was nothing.

“The contract is off.”

Without acknowledging the frantic scrambling of the other company—their desperate pleas to salvage the deal—he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the restaurant.

Neither of you spoke until you reached a quiet park. He finally stopped, turned to you, and for the first time, really looked at you.

"Dont you dare let anyone talk to you like that again."