Addicted To My Boss

While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her

Katie Oettgen

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.

Romance Crime Revenge Pregnancy Enemies to Lovers Pregnancy Personal Growth

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"Hold the elevator, please!" Clarie shouted as she jogged toward the elevator door.

"Thanks," She said to the man who held the elevator door open.

Luckily, in the iron box, only a few wanted to go up, not as full as usual. Maybe because it was almost entering office hours so the employees were already in their respective rooms.

Clarie brushed her fingers back through her brown curls. She woke up late due to staying up late accompanying Daniele who was heartbroken last night. Her best friend never gave up on getting back into a relationship even though she was often hurt by the same man over and over again.

Ting!

The elevator door opened on the eighth floor of her office. The twenty-four-year-old girl rushed to the assistant secretary's room. She would definitely get a lecture from Miss. Turner for arriving late.

The sound of tapping on the heels of her shoes rang loudly on the floor which was already quiet with the employee. It seemed that all the employees were already in their respective cubicles and starting work.

"Oh!" Clarie held her breath, then let it out again.

"Good morning, Miss. Turner. Sorry I came late," She greeted kindly, not forgetting the sweet smile she threw at the pot-bellied woman.

The black-haired woman who had just cut her long hair up to her shoulders looked at the girl who had just appeared with an annoyed look.

"You're twenty minutes late, Clarie."

"Yes, I know," Clarie replied languidly, walking to her desk which was next to that of Rebecca, her chief.

"You know, this week I have to train you to take my place, Clarie. Because Mr. Henderson doesn't want new people," said Rebecca as she walked back and forth tidying up files.

Rebecca will be on maternity leave for six months. Automatically Clarie, who is currently acting as Rebecca's assistant, inevitably has to replace the woman's duties during her leave.

"We will start today," Rebecca said again.

"Okay," Clarie replied, getting up from her swivel chair and tidying up her appearance.

Clarie has been working for Hends.Corp for one year as assistant secretary. During that time, Clarie had never come face-to-face with Lucas Henderson, at least occasionally passing by accident. Because so far only Rebecca has always taken care of her boss's daily schedule.

"Bring the papers for Mr. Henderson to sign, and follow me!" Rebecca ordered as she stepped towards the door.

Clarie immediately followed suit and didn't forget to bring some files that had been prepared by Rebecca. Rebecca's steps were slowed by her large belly, making Clarie feel sorry for her. Rebecca should have taken leave since the beginning of last month, but she didn't. She didn't know why.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Come in." A voice came from inside.

Rebecca coded for Clarie to open the door and enter first. The girl obeyed and opened the door.

In front of her, behind the table sat a man who was focused on his laptop.

Clarie walked slowly towards the table of the man who was none other than her boss. Lucas Henderson, a 35-year-old man, is not just any man. The man married a beautiful model named Marion Larsen two years ago.

The man had a handsome face and eyes as sharp as an eagle. Fine hairs grew around his firm jaw, so any woman would be tempted to caress him.

Lucas suddenly shifted his gaze from the square screen in front of him to the ladies who had just entered his room. Clarie swallowed hard as their gazes met. The girl wasn't sure if the man in front of her was looking at her or was staring at Rebecca.

"Have you rehearsed it, Bec?" Lucas asked Rebecca.

That deep voice sounded so sexy in Clarie's ears, making the girl swallow her saliva again.

"Of course, sir. I've trained her well and she'll work nimbly, right, Clarie?"

"Ha!? Oh, yes, that's right, sir," said Clarie nervously because her mind had been wandering somewhere earlier.

Lucas looked at Clarie deeply.

"Where are the files I should review?" Lucas asked.

Rebecca nudged Clarie on the shoulder beside her to hand over the file she had in her hands.

Clarie walked over to Lucas' table with her heart beating fast.

"Please, sir," She said quietly.

Lucas grabbed the file quickly.

"Get her to focus on her work, Bec. I don't want her to daydream too much!" Lucas said firmly.

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