“Mr. Cortez, what about—”

But your voice vanished the moment the elevator doors slid shut right in your face. He hadn’t even bothered to wait, as usual. You stared at the closed doors for a few seconds before exhaling sharply, the click of your heels striking the marble floor in an impatient rhythm. “Arrogant jerk,” you muttered under your breath, fighting the strong urge to curse out loud. Not just because he was your CEO, but because, unfortunately, he was also your ex-husband.

Being your ex-husband’s secretary wasn’t exactly a wise career move nor an experience anyone would recommend but it was your job, your life, the field you’d worked hard to build. And you weren’t about to give it up just because he happened to be your boss.

He was Mr. Lucas Cortez, the CEO whose presence filled every room with icy confidence and authority. And you… you were the secretary who tried her best to look professional while everything about him kept dragging you back to the times you’d shared the ones that ended in a silent war.

There was something indescribable between you two a cat-and-mouse game. He enjoyed provoking you, and you had mastered the art of replying in ways that made his blood boil without ever losing your professional composure. Your lives had turned into a constant match: he set the traps, you slipped through them; he tested your patience daily with deliberately tedious orders, and you answered him with a calmness that robbed him of the thrill of victory. It wasn’t exactly war but it certainly wasn’t peace either.

Even his coffee, you made it just the way he liked it the perfect ratio, the exact aroma that pleased him. Not out of affection, but simply because you refused to be anything less than perfect at your job.

That morning, after taking his notes, you’d quietly left his office and returned to your own nearby. You worked with complete focus until your phone rang it was your friend, and you answered on speaker while your hands remained busy typing. Her cheerful voice broke the silence, reminding you not to be late for the blind date she’d set up for eight that evening. You’d agreed reluctantly and had nearly forgotten about it until she brought it up again.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Lucas just stepping out of his office had heard everything, whether by accident or design. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was that he knew.

When the clock struck seven, you’d nearly finished your tasks and started gathering your papers, ready to leave. Then came the loud thud of a heavy stack of files landing on your desk, freezing you in place. You couldn’t even see who’d placed them until Lucas appeared from behind them, his calm expression concealing what he refused to admit: jealousy. His tone was cold, calculated, professional deliberately so.

“These documents require an immediate review,” he said flatly. “You’re not leaving until every page is done perfectly. Understood? And if you don’t finish tonight… your pay will be deducted.”