Chapter 1: The Boss Who Stole My Breath

Chapter 1: The Boss Who Stole My Breath

“Joanna! Why are you still standing there? I have to show you things outside!” Mrs. Thompson barked again. Had she said we were leaving? My eyes darted between her and Justin—yes, Justin—and then she called me again, forcing me to follow her out of the office.

Technically, yesterday was her last day, but she agreed to stay overtime today to guide me on my first day. She said she wanted to make sure I’d do things right. Apparently, my new boss was very strict.

I wiped the invisible sweat from my forehead when lunchtime came, and Mrs. Thompson invited me to eat at the cafeteria. Thank God she was the one who asked permission from him—ugh!—to leave. I still couldn’t believe it. Justin Smith-Montemayor was the CEO of Smith House. He was my boss.

If I could’ve backed out, I would’ve. But I had already signed a six-month contract, and if I broke it, I’d have to pay a huge penalty—for the remaining months. Six million pesos. Where was I supposed to get that kind of money?

No choice. I had to stay. I had to figure out how to work with him. First step? Be civil. Professional. I had to train myself to call him "Sir" or "Boss"—definitely not Justin. That name was forbidden. It brought back too many memories.

The rest of the day was spent with Mrs. Thompson giving me a crash course on all my tasks—from morning routines to lunch protocols. Apparently, part of being Justin’s secretary was buying his lunch. He rarely left his office, so Mrs. Thompson used to either fetch his food or have it delivered.

And get this—she even brought him snacks in the afternoon and sometimes dinner. Dinner! That part made me raise an eyebrow.

“Mr. Montemayor often works overtime, Joanna,” Mrs. Thompson explained. “He usually gets off around 11 PM to 1 AM. He reads and signs every document himself. He insists on being hands-on with all business proposals to impress his father.”

Honestly? I knew almost nothing about Justin. Just his full name—which I now embarrassingly couldn’t remember for a moment. Brain fog is real. I didn't know what course he took in college, didn’t know who his parents were, didn’t even make the connection when I noticed he looked a little like Josh Smith. I just figured people have doppelgängers.

It wasn’t until now that it hit me—they’re related.

By 5 PM, Mrs. Thompson said I could go. But she reminded me that I should say goodbye to my boss before leaving. And just like that, my palms turned cold again. I stood in front of Justin’s office door, completely frozen.

“Joanna, what are you waiting for? Go in and say goodbye to him,” Mrs. Thompson urged, clearly annoyed.

I bit my lower lip, ready to say something, when the door suddenly opened.

Mrs. Thompson stood up from her seat as Justin stepped out, and there he was—towering over me, with his masculine cologne enveloping the air around us. I had to tilt my head up just to see his face.

“Sir—” Mrs. Thompson started, but Justin cut her off with a cold, clipped voice.

“Are you going home?” he asked.

I paused. Was he talking to Mrs. Thompson?

I waited for her to reply. Seconds passed. Nothing.

So I turned to her—and she was looking straight at me.

Wait. Me?

I slowly turned back to Justin—and he was staring at me too.

My heart went wild again. Legs? Jelly. Stomach? Butterflies on steroids.

“Uhh... are you talking to me?” I managed to squeak.

He raised an eyebrow and gave me a once-over. My bag was slung over my shoulder—I was clearly ready to head out.

I braced myself. Was he going to reprimand me for leaving early? I was preparing my best apology speech when—

Without warning, he grabbed my hand.

I gasped.

He said nothing as he pulled me—yes, pulled me—out of his office.

I dropped myself onto the monoblock chair, letting out an exhausted sigh as Katastrophe raised a curious brow at me.

“Joanna, are you okay? And who dropped you off earlier? Wow, huh? First day at work and you already have a… uhm, friend? That’s not your boyfriend, right?”

I didn’t answer right away. I was too tired, too stunned. But after a deep breath, I spilled everything that happened to her. From the awkward silence in his office to the private elevator only his family could use… and how he grabbed my wrist without warning and led me into the parking lot.

Katastrophe blinked in disbelief. “What the hell?!”

I knew right then she wouldn’t believe what happened next either. Justin led me to a Bugatti. A freaking Bugatti. He opened the passenger seat and looked at me expectantly.

I frowned. What does he think he’s doing? He wanted me to get in his car? But why?

Before I could even argue, he barked in his low, commanding voice. “Hop in.”

I shook my head furiously. He narrowed his eyes, stepped closer, and without a word — carried me in bridal style.

“Hey!” I shrieked, pounding on his chest. “Put me down!”

But of course, I ended up inside his car. Locked in. I tried the door. Locked. Before I could protest more, he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine like nothing just happened.

“W-where are you taking me?” I asked, irritated and confused. No answer. Just silence.

Out of desperation, I reached for the door again. He glanced and hissed, “Joanna, what the f*ck?! Close that goddamn door.”

I didn’t.

He cursed under his breath, pulled over to the side of the road, and glared at me.

I glared back.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not going anywhere with you.”

I unbuckled the seatbelt he had put on me and grabbed the handle—only for him to catch my wrist again. This time, his face was inches from mine.

And before I could react—he kissed me.

Savagely.

It was like the wind got knocked out of my lungs.

He bit my lower lip and tried to slip his tongue in, but I fought back, refused—but he held my wrists tightly, too tightly. I winced in pain. And that was his opening.

He invaded my mouth like it belonged to him.

His tongue swept across every inch, claiming me like some wicked, addictive drug. I tried pushing him away again but he caught both of my wrists in one hand like it was nothing.

That kiss felt like it lasted forever.

By the time he pulled away, I was panting, my cheeks burning, my whole body trembling. And what did Justin do?

He just… drove.

Like nothing happened.

Meanwhile, I tried to hide my flustered self by looking out the window, but of course, all my thoughts were still on him. His kiss. His hands. His scent.

Then I realized something.

The road we were taking…

This was the way to my house.

My eyes widened.

Why the hell did he know where I lived?!

The car stopped right in front of the small rented house I shared with Katastrophe. I turned to look at him in shock—and that’s when I noticed it.

Not. A. Single. Pore.

Seriously? He didn’t even have visible pores? Meanwhile, I’m over here starting to break out. Life in the Philippines really isn’t fair.

Hard to find jobs. Low salaries. High cost of living. And apparently, CEOs with perfect skin and temper issues who randomly kiss you.

“What are you staring at?” he asked in that low, cool tone.

My heart raced. “N-nothing! Thanks for the ride!”

I bolted out of his car like my life depended on it and slammed the door behind me. I leaned on it, trying to catch my breath, but of course, Katastrophe was waiting.

“Six million pesos in damages?!” she exclaimed after reading my contract from Smith House. “You have no choice. You’re stuck. Good luck!”

She skipped out the door like she didn’t just drop a financial nuke on me. I muttered a few choice words under my breath.

I lay on my bed and counted sheep. One… two… three hundred… still awake. The problem?

Justin’s kiss.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it again—us in the car, kissing like a scene out of a steamy drama. It wasn’t even just the kiss. It was the way he kissed me. Like he had every right to.

And worst of all?

A part of me didn’t hate it.

Damn it.

Sleep finally came at 3 AM. But I was up again by five. I tried to go back to sleep but it was useless, so I decided to go for a walk. I ended up in Burnham Park.

The last time I was here… I was a kid. My mom used to take me here before everything between us fell apart. Before she stopped accepting me… after my biggest mistake.

To be continued...