The day my boss handed me a pen, a flood of strange comments flashed across my vision.
Heehee, she still has no idea this pen is connected to the male lead.
This is getting good.
Wait till later. It gets wild.
I froze with my fingers hovering over the dark blue fountain pen.
The next second, the man sitting across from me let out a muffled sound.
No one should have a crush on their boss.
Except me.
Because my boss had always been unbelievably good to me.
After graduation, I joined Hartwell Group and went straight into the executive office. My boss, Sebastian Cole, was famous for being cold, efficient, and terrifyingly hard to please. He rarely wasted words, and when someone made a mistake, he could reduce seasoned employees to teary silence in under two minutes.
But with me, it was different.
When I first joined the company, I didn’t understand half the internal processes. Everyone in the executive office had their own mountain of work, so nobody really had time to train me. I was left figuring things out alone, which was how I ended up making a huge mistake my second week on the job.
When I got called into Sebastian’s office, the older assistants looked at me like I was walking toward my own funeral.
I was so nervous my palms were sweating.
But when I stepped inside, Sebastian only looked up from his desk and asked calmly, “Are you adjusting well?”
I blinked. “What?”
“Do you like it here?” he asked. “Are your coworkers treating you well?”
That was it.
He never mentioned the mistake.
When I walked back out, everyone stared at me in disbelief. I lowered my head and pretended I was on the verge of tears, because even as a newcomer, I understood how dangerous special treatment could be in an office full of ambitious people.
Still, from that day on, I knew something about him was different.
I just never let myself think too much about it.
Maybe he only had a slight soft spot for me.
Maybe I was imagining things.
As long as I could see him every day, earn a good salary, and do my job well, what else did I need?
A year later, the company landed a major contract, and the executives decided to give bonuses to everyone involved. Since the executive office reported directly to Sebastian, he distributed those bonuses himself.
One by one, my coworkers stepped into his office and walked out holding thick red envelopes.
I stood at the very back of the line. I’d only been with the company a little over a year. My seniority was the lowest, so I wasn’t surprised when all the envelopes were gone by the time it was my turn.
I told myself not to care.
Sebastian looked at me, expression unreadable.
“You haven’t been here as long as the others,” he said. “So I prepared something else for you.”
The older assistants instantly leaned in.
Something else?
He reached into a drawer and took out a deep navy gift box.
“Open it,” he said.
I had no idea what could possibly be better than cash.
Still confused, I lifted the lid.
Inside, resting on black velvet, was a dark blue fountain pen tied with a tiny pink ribbon.
And right then, those bizarre floating comments flashed across my vision again.
Oh my God, he really gave it to her.
She still doesn’t know this pen is linked to him.
This story is finally getting interesting.
I stood there in a daze.
Linked to him?
What did that even mean?
Had I been watching too many late-night dramas? Was I hallucinating from stress?
Sebastian’s voice cut through my thoughts.
“You don’t like it?”
A fresh wave of comments exploded in front of me.
He looks so calm, but he’s panicking inside.
What if she doesn’t like his gift?
Touch it, girl. Hurry.
I swallowed hard and reached out.
My heartbeat got strangely fast.
I only meant to brush my fingers over the pen.
The moment I touched the barrel, Sebastian gave a low, sharp exhale.
I jerked my hand back.
The sound was so brief, so controlled, that my coworkers only looked mildly puzzled. No one dared say a word.
I stared at him.
His face was still composed, but the tips of his ears had turned red.
Something about that made me smile before I could stop myself.
“Thank you, Mr. Cole,” I said softly. “I love it.”
His gaze locked on mine.
“If you like it,” he said, voice lower than usual, “take good care of it. Don’t disappoint me.”
I nodded quickly. “Of course.”
I still didn’t understand where he had found some supernatural pen that seemed to be connected to him in ways I definitely did not want to define.
But one thing became very clear.
My life had somehow turned into the kind of ridiculous romance story people read at two in the morning and pretend not to enjoy.
And apparently, I was already in too deep.