Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Boss’s Darkest Demand: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 28

Calliope had barely made it through the day.She’d buried herself in work, avoiding every message from Atlas, every reminder of what she saw. That kiss. That moment where the ground fell out from under her feet. She hadn’t slept. She hadn’t eaten. Just moved through the hours like a ghost, her body going through the motions while her mind replayed every lie she hadn’t realized was a lie until now.When the knock came at her door, she didn’t move. She sat frozen on the couch, one hand absently splayed across her belly, thumb tracing invisible circles. Another knock, this time sharper. Harsher.And then a voice.“Calliope. I know you’re in there.”Her breath caught in her throat. It was her. The ex. The woman whose lips had been on Atlas the night Calliope had planned to tell him he was going to be a father. That voice was too polished, too steady. It didn’t belong outside her apartment. It didn’t belong in her life at all.Still, her legs moved before she could think better of it. She

The phone buzzed again. It wasn’t just a ring this time — it was the kind of long, insistent vibration that told me Atlas wasn’t ready to give up. He never was. I didn’t pick it up. Instead, I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders and stared at the muted TV screen, pretending the flickering light had my full attention. My tea had gone cold half an hour ago. I told myself it was because I was busy, too tired, too distracted to talk. But I knew the truth. Every time I even thought about answering, I saw her face. The way she had looked at me that day — like she already owned him, like I was a temporary distraction in a story where she was the main character. Her voice still echoed, sharp and smooth as glass: We’re getting married. Stay away from him. She hadn’t shouted. She hadn’t needed to. That kind of confidence didn’t require volume. And the worst part? I believed her. It was easier to believe

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. The kind of quiet that presses against your ears, making every little sound sharper than it should be. The hum of the refrigerator, the distant rumble of traffic outside, the soft ticking of the wall clock—all of it felt amplified, echoing in the hollow space my heart had become. I sat on the edge of the couch, fingers nervously twisting the hem of my shirt, my eyes fixed on the muted TV screen, but I wasn’t really watching. The images blurred, colors fading into one another like a watercolor left in the rain. My mind was elsewhere, trapped in a spiral of memories and doubts I couldn’t escape. Atlas’s face haunted me—his eyes searching, confused, hurt. The way his jaw tensed when I mentioned the wedding. The way his voice cracked when he said they weren’t engaged. Part of me wanted to believe him, to hold onto the hope that the ex was lying, that she was just trying to break us apart. But the other part

The morning light filtered through the tall windows of the office, casting long shadows across the gleaming floors. I moved through the space like a ghost, my heart heavy with an unshakable sense of dread that seemed to thicken the very air around me. Every step I took was measured, cautious, as if the walls themselves might betray me by whispering my secrets. I tried to focus on the routine—the hum of computers, the chatter of coworkers, the clatter of keyboards—but my mind was tangled in a web of fear and uncertainty. The memory of her face, that smile sharp as a blade, haunted me more than I cared to admit. I’d hoped to avoid her, hoped she’d forget I existed, but fate had other plans. There she was. Leaning casually against a nearby cubicle, the ex’s eyes glinted with cold amusement as she scanned the room like a predator. The moment our eyes met, I felt a cold wave of panic ripple through me, a shiver that ran straight down to my bones.