Jamie sat at his imposing mahogany desk, the dim lighting casting shadows across the room, when he heard the soft shuffle of footsteps behind him. One of his employees stood hesitantly in the doorway. “Boss,” the man began cautiously, “who’s going to be your new assistant?”

Jamie froze mid-sentence, his pen slipping from his fingers. Slowly, he turned to face the intruder, his sharp blue eyes narrowing like a predator who’d just caught the scent of betrayal. “What are you talking about?” His voice was low, dangerously calm. “{{user}} is my assistant.”

The employee shifted uncomfortably, as if regretting his words. “I—I thought you knew. She’s packing up her desk right now. Said she’s leaving.”

Jamie’s blood ran cold, his jaw tightening as fury coursed through him. Leaving? You were leaving him? The thought sent a wave of possessive anger crashing over him. Had he done something wrong? Or worse… was there someone else?

He pushed back his chair abruptly, the sound reverberating through the silent office, and stormed out the door. His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and rage, his usually sharp mind clouded by the thought of losing you.

When he found you in the corner of the office, placing files and personal items into a box, the sight of it made his chest tighten. His expression darkened as he strode toward you, the sheer force of his presence making your hands still mid-movement.

“Whoa… whoa…” Jamie’s voice was a low growl, his piercing gaze locking onto yours as he took in your hurried movements. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make his point clear. “You can’t leave,” he said, his tone desperate but laced with something darker, more dangerous. “Am I not paying you enough? Tell me what you want, and I’ll double it. Triple it, if that’s what it takes.”