My Ruthless CEO Boss Made My Life Miserable — Until He Discovered My Secret Identity

Part 1

The digital clock on my laptop read 2:00 AM, but my fingers were still flying across the keyboard.

I rubbed my burning eyes and took a sip of cold coffee.

A gentle chime echoed from my phone resting on the nightstand.

I reached over and unlocked the screen.

A message from Orion flashed bright against the dark background.

“Still awake, working on that portfolio?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

“I want everything to be perfect for tomorrow,” I typed back.

Orion had been my anchor for the better part of a year.

We met in a niche architecture forum where we argued over building aesthetics for three days straight.

That argument turned into daily messages, long phone calls, and a connection I had never felt before.

I had never seen his face, and he had never seen mine.

He was just a voice in the dark, a constant source of warmth in my chaotic life.

“You are going to blow them away,” Orion replied a moment later.

I clutched the phone to my chest, letting his confidence wash over me.

My mother, Nancy, had been hounding me for months to find a real boyfriend.

She constantly shoved pictures of eligible bachelors in my face at the dinner table.

I always brushed her off, insisting I was too focused on my career.

The truth was, no man in the real world could measure up to the ghost living in my phone.

I finally shut my laptop and crawled under the heavy duvet.

Morning came entirely too fast, sunlight piercing through my thin curtains.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the lapels of my tailored blazer.

Today was my interview at the most prestigious design firm in the city.

Getting a job here would change the trajectory of my entire life.

I grabbed my leather portfolio and rushed out the door to catch the early train.

The glass skyscraper loomed over the downtown streets like a monolith.

I stepped into the grand lobby, my heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor.

The receptionist handed me a visitor badge and pointed toward the sleek elevators.

I rode up to the top floor, my stomach twisting into a tight knot.

A man in a sharp suit directed me toward a massive oak door at the end of the hallway.

I took a deep breath, knocked twice, and pushed the door open.

Tyler Brooks sat behind an expansive mahogany desk, his dark eyes fixed on a tablet.

He did not bother looking up when I entered.

I stood awkwardly in the center of the room, clutching my portfolio to my chest.

“I am not interested.”

His voice carried a low, cold rumble across the quiet space.

I blinked, completely caught off guard by the dismissal.

“Excuse me?”

I took a hesitant step forward.

Tyler finally raised his head, his gaze sweeping over me with blatant disgust.

“My mother sent you, didn’t she?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off with a sharp wave of his hand.

“I am tired of these endless setups with shallow gold diggers.”

My jaw dropped in sheer disbelief.

“I am here for the junior designer position.”

My voice trembled slightly despite my effort to control it.

Tyler scoffed, leaning back in his leather chair.

“You expect me to believe a designer got a direct audience with the CEO?”

He tapped a thick file on his desk.

“You used this fake interview as a ploy to get into my office.”

My grip on my portfolio tightened until my knuckles turned white.

“You are the most arrogant, unprofessional man I have ever met.”

I turned on my heel and marched out of the office without looking back.

The elevator ride down felt like an eternity.

I pulled out my phone the moment I hit the street and typed a frantic message to Orion.

“The interview was a disaster, the CEO is a complete monster.”

Orion replied almost instantly.

“I am so sorry, do you want to finally meet up tonight so I can cheer you up?”

My pulse jumped against my wrist at his words.

We had talked about meeting for months, but the timing was never right.

“Yes,” I typed, walking briskly toward the subway.

“Send me the location,” he replied.

I practically floated down the sidewalk, ignoring the heavy crowds.

My phone buzzed again, but it was an unknown number calling.

I pressed the device to my ear.

“Megan Fisher?” a crisp voice asked.

“Speaking.”

“This is HR from the firm, Mr.

Brooks has requested that you start immediately.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, pedestrians bumping into my shoulders.

“What?”

“He found the portfolio you left behind in your haste.”

I stared blankly at the concrete sidewalk.

“He demands you return by noon to start the new project.”

I hung up the phone, a heavy pit forming in my stomach.

I had to text Orion and cancel our long-awaited meeting.

“I got the job, but my tyrant boss is making me work late tonight,” I wrote, my fingers heavy.

“I understand,” Orion replied, though the words felt distant on the screen.

I trudged back to the towering glass building, the initial excitement completely extinguished.

The rest of the day was an absolute nightmare.

Tyler stood over my shoulder, pointing out non-existent flaws in my digital drafts.

“This is amateurish,” he muttered, tapping the screen with a heavy finger.

“I can refine the edges, but the core structure is sound,” I argued.

Tyler narrowed his eyes, leaning in close enough that I could smell his expensive cologne.

“Redo the entire schematic before you leave tonight.”

He walked away, leaving me to stare at the glowing monitor in despair.

My coworker, Brenda, leaned over her partition with a nasty smirk.

“You won’t last a week,” she whispered.

I ignored her, plunging into the grueling workload.

I did not leave the office until past midnight.

The streets were empty and cast in a sickly orange glow from the streetlamps.

The next few weeks fell into a grueling, exhausting rhythm.

Tyler pushed me harder than anyone else in the department.

He rejected my designs, tore apart my presentations, and demanded endless revisions.

I survived solely on cheap coffee and midnight texts with Orion.

My mother cornered me in the kitchen one Sunday morning.

“You look awful, you need a distraction,” she declared, sliding a piece of paper across the island.

“I do not have time for a blind date,” I groaned, pushing the paper away.

“His name is Craig, he is a veterinarian, and you are meeting him at six.”

I was too exhausted to fight her anymore.

I showed up at the small cafe wearing a wrinkled sweater and dark circles under my eyes.

Craig was already seated in a booth, sipping a dark espresso.

He looked me up and down, his lip curling into a slight sneer.

“You do not look like your photo.”

His tone dripped with blatant condescension.

“I just got off a fourteen-hour shift,” I replied, sliding into the booth.

Craig spent the next thirty minutes talking exclusively about his salary and his expensive car.

He finally paused, leaning across the sticky table.

“Once we are married, you can quit your little drawing job and manage my household.”

I stared at him, genuinely wondering if he was completely insane.

“I think I am going to leave now,” I said, grabbing my purse.

I slid out of the booth and hurried toward the glass exit door.

Craig followed close behind, his heavy footsteps echoing on the tile.

“Do not be difficult, you are lucky I am even giving you the time of day,” he called out.

I pushed out onto the dark sidewalk, the night air biting at my skin.

Craig grabbed my forearm, his grip bruising and tight.

“Let go of me,” I demanded, trying to wrench my arm free.

He yanked me back toward him, his face twisting in anger.

A sleek black town car suddenly screeched to a halt at the curb.

The heavy door swung open, and a tall figure stepped out into the dim streetlight.

Tyler Brooks marched toward us, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek.

He shoved Craig backward, breaking his grip on my arm instantly.

Craig stumbled, his eyes wide with sudden fear.

Tyler turned to me, his eyes softening in a way I had never seen before, and asked me a question that made my breath catch in my throat.