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CHAPTER 8: A VERY CONVENIENT EMERGENCY BRAKE
publish date:
2026-09-23 07:45:28
Latest chapter
OOPS! I'M THE BOSS'S FIANCÉE. CHAPTER 10: STREET MARKET NEGOTIATIONS
Vanessa's scream rattled the hallway again."I don't care if the price of steel went up, Ramiro! You cannot cancel the route on a Friday morning!"I let go of my office doorknob and cracked the glass door open with extreme caution. Out in the hall, barely fifteen feet away, Vanessa was pacing back and forth in front of the water dispenser. She had her phone glued to her ear, her face flushed with rage, and her blonde hair slightly disheveled. It was a glorious sight to watch her perfect armor crack.The problem was that, spinning around on her high heels, she caught me peeking.Her blue eyes flashed with instant malice. The panic on her face vanished, immediately replaced by the smile of a predator who had just found the perfect bait to throw to the lions.Vanessa lowered the phone, covered the mouthpiece with her hand, and marched straight toward me. Before I could step back and lock the door, she wedged her foot in the gap."Vice President Dupont, what a timely encounter," she said,
OOPS! I'M THE BOSS'S FIANCÉE. CHAPTER 9: MORE ZEROS THAN I'VE EVER SEEN
The Google search bar blinked on my laptop screen with the relentless mockery of modern technology. The results yielded three monasteries in the Alps, but absolutely none of them were dedicated to producing Gruyère cheese in sensory deprivation. My lie was a house of cards teetering on the edge of a cliff.I was about to close the tab to look up cheap flights or tutorials on how to forge a new identity, when my busted cell phone vibrated against the mahogany desk.The noise made me jump. I grabbed the device, fully expecting another text full of insults from Gutierrez, my landlord, demanding my imminent eviction.But it wasn't the landlord. It was a push notification from my low-budget bank app.Transfer received.I opened the message with a trembling thumb, ignoring the cracked glass scratching my fingertip. The screen took ten agonizing seconds to load, courtesy of the corporate tower's free Wi-Fi. When the numbers finally snapped into focus, my heart actually stopped. I literally f
OOPS! I'M THE BOSS'S FIANCÉE. CHAPTER 8: A VERY CONVENIENT EMERGENCY BRAKE
The digital display above the doors ticked down: floor 38, 37, 36. The slowness of the elevator was psychological torture. Maximiliano was still leaning against the wall next to my head, his breath brushing my forehead, analyzing every bead of sweat threatening to ruin my cheap makeup."So you made cheese in silence," he finally said, his low tone vibrating in my chest like a cello string. "I suppose that explains your peculiar negotiation style. Though I do wonder at what point the Swiss nuns taught you about the precise slicing of marinated pork."I opened my mouth to invent some atrocity about spice exports in eighteenth-century convents, but fate, in its infinite and sadistic wisdom, decided to intervene.A horrific metallic screech echoed through the elevator shaft, sounding like two giant gears grinding each other to dust. Before I could process the noise, the steel floor beneath my feet vanished.The elevator plummeted into freefall.It was only a fraction of a second, a couple
OOPS! I'M THE BOSS'S FIANCÉE. CHAPTER 7: THE VERTICAL INTERROGATION
I stormed out of the boardroom walking so fast my secondhand heels practically threw sparks against the polished wood. I wanted to get to my office, lock the door, and have a panic attack in peace. My legs were shaking. I had managed to fool twelve of the most ruthless executives in the country using a metaphor about marinated pork, but I knew my streak of luck had a limit.I reached the private elevator at the end of the hall and slammed the down button so hard I nearly caved the panel into the wall.The polished steel doors slid open. I shot inside like lightning, glued my back to the rear panel, and prayed the metal doors would shut before anyone could speak to me. There were only four inches left to seal my escape when a massive hand, sporting a watch that cost as much as my entire life, shoved itself into the gap.The doors retreated with an obedient buzz.Maximiliano Montenegro stepped into the cube.The space, which a second ago had felt luxurious and wide, shrank dramatically
OOPS! I'M THE BOSS'S FIANCÉE. CHAPTER 6: THE TACOS AL PASTOR THEORY
Boardroom number one was a freezer designed to intimidate. It featured a dark glass oval table that seemed to float in the center of the room, surrounded by twelve black leather chairs occupied by twelve very unfriendly-looking people.At the head of the table, like a king judging his vassals, sat Maximiliano Montenegro.I walked in trying to project confidence, but my shoes squeaked against the polished wood floor. Twelve heads snapped toward me in unison. I felt my stomach shrink to the size of a walnut. Max watched me from the other end of the table. His gray eyes scanned my jacket—buttoned up to my chin—and the strand of hair rendered stiff by dried milk. One of his eyebrows arched a fraction of a millimeter, but he didn't say a word.I slipped into the only empty chair, directly across from Vanessa, who shot me a venom-laced smile."Now that we’re all here," Max said, his voice slicing through the air like a whip, "we can continue with the quarterly logistics report. Roberto, the
OOPS! I'M THE BOSS'S FIANCÉE. CHAPTER 5: THE MURDEROUS ESPRESSO MACHINE
The clock read nine-twelve in the morning. I desperately needed caffeine, or my brain, already fried from the stress of signing a fraudulent contract, was going to shut down completely.The problem was the coffee maker in my office.Calling it a "coffee maker" was an insult. That chrome monster embedded in the mahogany wall looked like the control panel of a space shuttle. It had two analog pressure gauges, four stainless steel nozzles, and a touchscreen with options written entirely in Italian. I was used to boiling water in an aluminum pot and stirring in a spoonful of off-brand instant coffee. This was alien territory.I tapped a button that said Espresso Doppio and then grabbed a little metal pitcher sitting to the side, assuming it was for heating milk. There was a red lever with the word Vapore. Sounded harmless enough. I pushed the lever down.It was like opening the gates of hell itself.A blast of industrial-pressurized steam shot out of the nozzle with a deafening shriek, sl
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