Chapter 2

The cuffs of the shirt were rolled up, and the collar was opened very low. That was the spare shirt I kept in the office lounge for emergencies.

"Mr. Keaton, you're here."

But Emmett didn't get up. Instead, he just flashed me a brilliant smile. "Ms. Carrington said you weren't feeling well, so she asked me to help organize your files first."

As he spoke, he deliberately waved the cup in his hand. "This cup is really pretty. Ms. Carrington said I can have it. You won't mind, right?"

I stared at him, the suffocating pressure from my mysophobia making my fingertips go numb.

"Put it down," I said, my voice icy.

As if startled, Emmett's hand jerked. The scalding coffee poured straight onto the financing proposal I'd just printed out last night. The brown liquid instantly spread across the papers, ruining three consecutive all-nighters' worth of my work.

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry!"

He jumped up in a panic, babbling apologies, but his eyes sparkled with provocation.

Colleagues around us peeked in, whispering among themselves. Among the looks they were giving us, few were of sympathy, while most were simply delighting in the drama.

Ruby walked in at that moment. She didn't even glance at the ruined papers. Her first reaction was to grab Emmett's hand.

"Did you get burned?"

Emmett's eyes reddened as he sidled next to her.

"Ms. Carrington, it's all my fault. I accidentally ruined Bruno's files."

Ruby turned to me, her brows furrowed deeply.

"It's just a document. You can redo it. Why are you being so harsh?" she snapped. "Look at yourself right now. You're like a bitter old man."

I stared at the mess on the floor. That was the final push I'd made to secure Series C funding for her. But she only had eyes for that delicate young man who knew how to act cute.

Emmett hid behind her. While she leaned in to comfort him, he mouthed something at me. "Old man."

In that instant, something inside me shattered completely.

"Ruby, get this intern out of my office right now," I said, suppressing my anger and trying to keep my tone calm.

Ruby bristled instantly. To preserve her authority in front of her new boy toy, she made an announcement right on the spot.

"Starting today, Emmett Stone is promoted to the position of executive assistant. His office will be right next to yours.

"And over the next few days, you'll personally train him on core business."

She phrased it as mentoring, but in reality, she was planning on siphoning power from me to the useless kid.

I looked at her and asked coldly, "Are you sure?"

"Bruno Keaton, don't talk to me in that tone."

With that, she left with Emmett in tow.

…

That night, back at the house, that sense of intrusion only worsened.

When I went to the bathroom to shower, I noticed that my electric toothbrush had been used. The head was wet, and it still carried the rich smell of cinnamon-flavored toothpaste from a certain brand—a brand I never used.

Back in the bedroom, my pillow smelled of cheap cologne. It was Emmett's scent.

My mysophobia flared completely out of control at that moment.

I grabbed the sheets, comforter, and pillows off the bed and furiously threw them all into the trash.

Ruby happened to walk in right then. When she saw the naked mattress, she exploded.

"Bruno Keaton! Have you lost your mind? I only brought Emmett back to grab a file, and he rested here for a little bit. Is all this seriously necessary?"

I looked at her and found the person in front of me was utterly foreign.

"You brought him into our bedroom?"

"This is my house! I can bring whoever I want!"

With that, she stormed out and slammed the door behind her, not even sparing a glance back.

Ten minutes later, I saw her social media post. The photo showed her mixing drinks for Emmett at a bar, the lighting deliberately intimate.

The caption read, "Younger ones are still better. Less rigid rules."

I sat on the living room floor, staring at the sheets in the trash. The love in my heart was being stripped away bit by bit by this unbearable disgust.

I took out my phone and dialed the headhunter's number.