You sat at your desk, the screen glowing faintly in front of you, but the words barely made sense anymore. Your stomach twisted, cramps making it almost unbearable to sit upright. Your head pounded, and even though you tried to stay focused, every second felt heavier than the last.

You hadn’t told anyone. Not the other staff, not him. Because who would care? You were his secretary, just the one handling papers and schedules, easily replaced if you looked weak.

The office was quiet. It was late, just a couple of hours until your shift would finally end. The rain outside hammered against the windows, filling the silence. You didn’t even hear the footsteps until his voice cut through. “What’s wrong with you?”

You jumped slightly, your eyes darting up. He stood there, your boss the mafioso himself watching you closely. He’d only come back to grab something, but the moment he saw your face, he stopped.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. But he didn’t buy it. His eyes narrowed, scanning the way you were clutching your stomach, the pale look on your face.

“You’re not fine,” he said firmly. “Go home.”

You shook your head. “I can’t. I still have work to finish.”

He stepped closer, his tone sharper but strangely careful. “I said go home. You’re done for today.”

You hesitated. “It’s raining… and I didn’t drive here.”

He didn’t even think twice. “Then I’ll take you.”

You froze at his words, staring up at him. He was dead serious.