Pressure Cooker

The deadline hits me in the face before I even sit down.

Pinned to the board. Circled in red. Three days.

Three days to fix something people with bigger teams take weeks to polish.

My chest tightens. Coffee tastes bitter. The office already feels louder than yesterday, like everyone woke up knowing something was about to snap.

I open my laptop. Slack pings don’t stop. Emails stack. Someone taps a pen too hard behind me.

Pressure. Real pressure. The kind that makes your hands shake but you still have to type like everything’s fine.

“Skye.”

I don’t look up. I already know it’s him.

“The spacing on your last mockup is off,” Leo says, loud enough for the people nearby to hear. “Margins don’t align with the user flow.”

A couple heads turn.

My jaw tightens. I hate this part of him. The public correction. The CEO voice. Clean. Sharp.

“I’ll fix it,” I say, still staring at my screen.

“Do,” he replies. “It matters.”

Then he walks off.

Just like that.

No softness. No private check-in. Just a note dropped like a blade.

Murmurs start almost immediately.

“Damn.”

“That’s cold.”

“She’s definitely getting special treatment.”

I don’t know which one hurts more.

I push through the work. Fix one thing. Then another. Then another. I don’t let myself breathe. I can’t. If I pause, the panic might win.

Around noon, Mina slides into the chair beside me.

“You okay?” she asks quietly.

“Living the dream,” I mutter.

She glances toward Leo’s glass office. “You know people are watching you, right?”

“I figured.”

“They think you’re sleeping with him.”

I laugh, sharp and humorless. “That’s insane.”

“Welcome to corporate logic.”

She hesitates. “Also… Kayden’s been asking questions about your files.”

My fingers freeze on the keyboard. “What kind of questions?”

“The kind that sound innocent but aren’t.”

Kayden.

The golden boy. Perfect hair. Perfect smile. Always two steps ahead. He transferred from a competitor last month and somehow already has Leo’s attention.

Great.

As if summoned, Kayden appears an hour later, leaning against my desk like we’re friends.

“Hey, Skye,” he says easily. “Saw your concept deck. Bold.”

“Thanks,” I say, guarded.

“Leo’s pushing you hard,” he adds, lowering his voice. “You holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

He smiles. Too smooth. “If you need help, I’m around.”

“I’m good.”

His eyes flick to my screen. Too curious. Then to my face. Measuring.

“Just saying,” he says. “Sometimes pressure makes people crack.”

Then he walks away.

I sit there, heart racing, skin crawling.

By mid-afternoon, everything goes wrong.

One of my files goes missing. Gone. Not deleted. Just not where it should be.

I retrace steps. Check backups. Nothing.

My throat closes.

I stand and head straight for Leo’s office.

He looks up when I walk in, brows already drawn. “What is it?”

“My files are missing,” I say. “The revised layouts. All of them.”

His jaw tightens. “When did you last access them?”

“An hour ago.”

He stands immediately. No hesitation. “Kayden,” he calls out sharply.

Kayden looks up from across the room. “Yeah?”

“Did you touch Skye’s folder?”

Kayden raises his hands. “Whoa. No. Why would I?”

“Because it’s gone,” Leo snaps.

The room goes quiet.

Kayden shrugs. “That’s not on me.”

Leo turns to IT without another word. “Pull access logs. Now.”

People whisper. Eyes dart. I feel exposed. Like a wound in the middle of the office.

Leo faces me again, voice lower. “We’ll recover it.”

“You embarrassed me,” I say before I can stop myself.

His eyes flicker. “I protected you.”

“By calling me out in front of everyone?”

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Because someone is messing with your work, and I won’t let it slide.”

I swallow. My anger tangles with something else. Something warm. Dangerous.

Later, when the files are restored, I find out the access came from a shared terminal. Untraceable.

Convenient.

I pack up late. Head pounding. Phone buzzing nonstop.

I step outside for air and call my best friend, Jules.

“This is a bad idea,” she says immediately. “Working under your ex? Who happens to be rich and powerful?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

“Not when rent exists.”

She sighs. “He’s playing games, Skye.”

“He defended me today.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not controlling the board.”

I lean against the wall. “What if he’s changed?”

A pause. Then softly, “What if you haven’t?”

The call ends, but her words stick.

Back inside, the office is dim. Most people gone. Screens glow like tired eyes.

I walk back to my desk and stop.

Leo stands across the room, talking quietly to Mina. His posture is tense. Protective.

“I don’t care what it looks like,” he says. “Her work stays intact.”

Mina nods. “Got it.”

He turns.

Our eyes meet.

The air shifts. Everything else fades. The lights. The screens. The noise.

It’s just him. And me. And this invisible line between us that keeps pulling tighter.

I realize something then, clear and terrifying.

I can’t escape him.

Not here. Not anywhere.

Not anymore.