Chapter 83

DOMINIC’S POV

The rustling sound of pen scribbling across documents filled the room.

The sound was steady—sharp strokes, quick movements, paper shifting under my fingers. It blended with the low hum of the AC and the faint tick of the wall clock behind me.

My eyes stayed fixed on the document spread across the table. Numbers. Signatures. Reports. They floated before my eyes after hours of work and no sleep.

Knock.

Knock.

The soft but persistent knocks broke through the stillness.

My jaw tightened. Whoever it was, I already felt irritated.

“Come in,” I ordered, not lifting my eyes from the page.

The door opened with a careful creak, followed by hesitant footsteps.

“Sir… your coffee.” My new assistant’s voice wavered slightly as she took a few steps forward.

Her perfume hit me first—a bit sharp, flowery, too sweet, and too strong for morning.

My wolf growled under my skin, pushing against my control in annoyance. The smell drowned out the clean scent of paper and ink in my office, replacing it with the artificial whatever she wore and her desperation.

She moved closer, slow and deliberate.

I didn’t need to look at her to know what she was doing.

She had been recommended by my former assistant before she left to save her marriage. The workload had almost destroyed her home, so she ran before it truly did. This new one… lacked her discipline, her calmness, her professionalism. All she had was perfume and an empty brain.

My brows twitched in faint annoyance, and a quiet, cold mockery flashed through my mind.

These women always act like hungry ghosts who can’t wait to be laid.

She leaned forward slightly, bending in a way she clearly practiced in front of a mirror. Her blouse dropped just enough to show the deep line between her breasts.

My wolf snarled. The disgust moved across my skin like static.

“Drop the coffee and get out,” I said, flipping to the next page without sparing her a glance.

My patience was thin. The last few weeks had been filled with mass layoffs, restructuring, spies, traitors, cowards, and fools. If I fired anyone else right now, the remaining workers would break under the workload. And the new batch of employees weren’t trained yet.

A sudden loud gasp cut through the air.

“Ah!”

My head snapped toward her.

I turned in time to see the cup tilt… spill… and dark brown liquid tumble toward my suit.

Her “accident” moved slowly in my eyes, like a bad performance I had seen too many times before.

Hot coffee splattered across my shirt and trousers.

My brows folded into sharp creases.

I pinched the area between my brows, closing my eyes for a brief moment. The heat seeped into the fabric, irritating my skin.

Her hand flew to her mouth dramatically, fake shock written all over her face.

“Oh no! Sir, I’m so sorry—”

She rushed forward to “clean” me, her knees hitting the ground as she reached for the stain.

My wolf’s irritation spiked so high it felt like claws dragging inside my chest.

Instead of focusing on the stain, she rubbed her bust against my leg, intentionally pushing it against me like she thought I was blind or stupid.

Her voice dipped lower. “Sir… let me just—”

Her tone grated like metal on metal.

Before she could press herself any closer, I grabbed her arm—cold, firm, without hesitation and flung her away from me.

Her body hit the couch with a soft thud. Papers beside it fluttered.

Her perfume lingered in the air, clinging stubbornly to my senses.

I pressed the button on the telephone.

Click.

Click.

“Get me a new suit,” I said coldly. “And get someone to clean my office.”

“Yes, sir,” the voice on the other end replied immediately.

“The new assistant is fired.”

The girl on the couch jerked upright like someone had poured ice water on her. Fear shot through her wide eyes.

She pushed her blouse together, hiding what she had purposefully exposed earlier.

“S–Sir, wait— I didn’t mean— It was a mistake!” She scrambled off the couch, her voice trembling.

She stumbled forward, hands raised, trying to look innocent.

Her blouse, which she had unbuttoned earlier for her pathetic performance, now slipped awkwardly over her shoulders. She grabbed the edges with shaky fingers, fumbling to button them back. Her hands trembled so badly that the buttons kept sliding away from their holes.

“Sir, please! I didn’t mean to! I swear, I didn’t—” she cried.

Before she could finish her sentence, the office door swung open.

My secretary entered with a bag in hand. Two bodyguards followed behind him.

Her eyes widened at the sight of them.

I took the suit from my secretary calmly.

“You handle her,” I said simply.

“Yes, sir.”

She turned to him with panic in her eyes. “P–Please, sir! Tell him! It wasn’t my fault! The cup slipped— I didn’t— I didn’t—”

My secretary didn’t even look at her as he signaled the guards.

I walked away without another word and stepped into the private bathroom in my office.

The moment the door closed behind me, I let out a quiet breath.

“Tsk.” I looked down at the stained shirt. “I should have made her pay for this.”

Coffee clung to the fabric, dark and ugly.

I peeled off the dirty clothes and tossed them aside. Cool water hit my skin as I washed off the sticky heat from the spill.

My wolf still growled faintly, restless, irritated.

Without warning, an image of Mannie flashed across my mind—her soft scent, her quiet presence, her steady eyes.

My wolf calmed.

Her scent always settled him. Soft, warm, calming… like a blanket of peace.

Maybe it was because she had children. Maybe it was something else. I didn’t question it too deeply. It didn’t feel strange to crave her scent. It felt natural.

I stood under the water for a moment, letting it run over my shoulders and down my back, washing away the stress and exhaustion lodged deep inside my bones.

“I need to round up here and go back,” I muttered.

More work waited.

More problems.

More people trying their luck with death.

I turned off the water and stepped out, drying off quickly. I dressed in the fresh suit my secretary brought. The fabric was smooth, crisp, and clean. A sharp contrast to the chaos outside the bathroom.

When I entered the office again, the Chief Operating Officer stood up immediately from the couch and bowed.

“Sir,” he said, handing me a document with both hands. “All the spies have been caught. These are their names. The others have been dealt with… according to the rules.”

According to the rules meant one thing in my company.

No mercy.

No second chances.

I hummed in acknowledgment and flipped through the document.

Each name that stared back at me was an executive.

Important men. High positions. Big egos.

And yet, they were still stupid.

“Just a few years away from here,” I said with a dry scoff, “and people are already plotting rebellion.”

The COO swallowed hard, sweat forming at the edges of his hairline.

“It seems my methods weren’t harsh enough.” I closed the document and handed it back to him.

He received it with shaking hands.

“They are in the meeting room,” he said immediately, voice low, as if afraid I would be angered by delay.

I nodded once and strode out of my office.

Truthfully— I was already angry.

And they hadn’t even seen me yet.

My steps echoed through the hallway, smooth and controlled. The COO followed closely behind, wiping his palms against his trousers. My secretary walked silently on my other side.

We reached the large meeting room.

Their voices leaked through the door.

Loud.

Arrogant.

Stupid.

I paused outside, listening.

My lips curved slowly.

They thought the door protected them. They thought no one could hear them.

They forgot the kind of man they were dealing with.

The COO looked at me nervously, clearly listening too. His face turned pale.

Inside—

“Tsk… does Dominic think I’d still be afraid of him?”

“He can’t do what he did years ago.”

“Hehe… maybe he brought us here to beg.”

They all laughed like mindless pigs.

I turned calmly to my secretary.

“Have their families been dealt with?”

“Yes, sir.” His voice was steady. “And their companies, remaining wealth, reputation, and their health.”

He checked his watch.

“In an hour, we can declare them mentally unstable and dig up their crimes.”

My smirk deepened.

The COO almost fainted beside me.

More voices rose inside:

“Hehe… even COO doesn’t fear him anymore.”

“If COO hadn’t called Dominic, we’d still be rulers of this company.”

“You’re right. But we can’t leave him without a warning. Let’s make him bleed a little.”

My secretary looked disgusted.

The COO looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

I let them talk.

Let them laugh.

Let them dig their own graves.

Then:

“Open the door,” I said quietly.

The COO bowed repeatedly and pushed it open with shaky hands.

I stepped inside.

Silence hit immediately.

Their smiles froze.

Their throats bobbed.

Fear washed over their faces like cold water.

My bodyguards entered behind me, closing the door.

No escape.

I walked forward with steady steps and sat in my seat. My leg crossed smoothly, and I rested an elbow on the armrest.

A faint smile stretched across my lips.

I raised a hand.

In seconds, the traitors were dragged from their seats and subdued. The guards pinned them to the floor.

“Dominic— Wait— We didn’t—”

“You heard—”

“It was a joke—”

The excuses poured out like filthy water.

I ignored their noise. It bored me.

One tried to crawl away; he was dragged back by his collar.

Another trembled so hard that his teeth clattered.

One of them stammered, “Y–You heard what we said?”

I didn’t answer him.

I didn’t have to.

My people moved with quiet, brutal efficiency.

By the time they were done, bones cracked. Wails filled the room. Blood stained the floor. One man coughed red onto the table leg before fainting.

“You’re wicked,” one spat with the last bit of strength he had before he slumped.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said calmly, pushing his limp body aside with my foot.

I walked to the next one.

The smell of blood clung to the air, metallic and heavy.

My eyelids twitched as my gaze fell on a streak of blood on the wall.

“These bastards,” I muttered.

I grabbed the next traitor by his hair and lifted his head.

He choked on a breath.

“You had the guts to go after her, huh?” My voice dropped, low and dangerous.

His eyes widened. “I— I—”

A mocking laugh slipped from my lips. “Tell me… why?”

“You… you’re a monster…” he whispered, his finger trembling as he pointed at me.

Then he slumped forward, unconscious.

The secretary spoke beside me.

“Sir, the one hour is here.”

“Good.”

He adjusted his glasses. “Sir, you have another meeting in a few minutes.”

I hummed, removing the disposable gloves on my hands carefully—one finger at a time.

My secretary handed me a cloth to wipe my fingers.

“Get this place cleaned up,” I ordered.

“Yes, sir,” the COO said immediately, bowing so fast his glasses almost slipped off.

I stepped out of the room, my secretary at my side.

We walked down the hallway to the next meeting room.

When the door opened, we both froze for a moment.

A bald executive sat alone, rubbing something thick and shiny on his head.

He didn’t notice us until my shadow fell on him.

His eyes widened. His hand jerked. The cream bottle slipped and bounced on the table.

I stared at him for a second.

It looked like hair growth cream.

Not that I would ever need it. But a certain woman at home—that stubborn cat—came to mind.

She had said she was going bald missing him, he couldn't let her go bald, could he?

I stepped closer unintentionally, curiosity flickering.

“You’re already bald,” I said plainly. “And you’re old. Do you think your hair will grow?”

He froze.

Then threw the cream away like it was poison.

“N–No, sir!” he shouted, standing so fast his knees hit the chair leg. “No, sir!”

I sighed.

I didn’t even try to scare him.

He was just timid.

“Send one of the products to my office,” I ordered and moved to my seat.

Other executives were already trooping in.