All Chapters of Accidental Night with the Boss: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The stares followed her like heat lamps all the way to HR.Nobody said anything, of course. But she caught the sidelong glances, the quick whispers the second her heels clicked past.It didn’t take a genius to know what they were thinking:Didn’t Sinclair just roast her alive in the boardroom?Now she’s heading to HR? Is this a walk to collect her severance?Their eyes burned into her back until she reached the frosted-glass doors.Great. Perfect. If this were a Korean drama, there would be dramatic background music right now.Instead, Isabella got the receptionist’s raised brows as she slid the new contract across the desk like it was a loaded gun.“Chairman Sinclair has… appointed you as his personal secretary?” the HR rep asked, her tone carefully neutral. The kind of neutral that actually meant: Are you sure you didn’t hallucinate that?“Yes,” Isabella said, smiling politely. “Apparently.”The woman blinked. Then printed out a stack of papers, still giving Isabella that how are yo

Thud. Thud. Thud.Isabella’s suitcase bumped against each step as she dragged it up the narrow stairwell. The building smelled like frying oil and damp laundry. Somewhere down the hall, a baby cried, the thin walls doing nothing to muffle it.This place was... well it needed some TLC. But it was definitely better than nothing. She would certainly prefer here to staying in a hotel indefinitely.She had left Chloe’s apartment that very afternoon, unable to breathe in the same walls where Zachary’s cologne might still linger. God forbid Chloe brought him over; Isabella would’ve sooner slept under a park bench or rent a coffin-sized capsule pod than than stomach that kind of disgust.So here she was. Elena’s place.A woman with a suitcase and nowhere to go ended up at her sister’s door. Always.She was about to knock when the voices started.They were low at first then it rose so suddenly that she almost got a fright.Her brother-in-law’s voice, sharp as a knife.“She’s moving in? Again

The afternoon stretched slow and heavy, sunlight spilling across the small apartment. Elena kept herself busy, as though work could scrub away Margot’s shrill words from that morning. She cleaned counters that weren’t dirty, wiped the already spotless dining table, then finally surrendered to her favorite distraction—baking.The warm scent of butter and vanilla soon filled the space, curling through the living room where Isabella sat flipping through her phone.She glanced up as Elena emerged from the kitchen, balancing a tray of golden cookies, her cheeks a little flushed from the oven’s heat. “Try one before they cool,” she said, sliding the plate onto the coffee table.Isabella picked one up, still too hot, and bit carefully. Sweetness melted across her tongue. She moaned, “God, Lena. If the corporate world doesn’t want you back, open a bakery. Forget Dave. You’d be rolling in customers.”Elena laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face with the back of her wrist. “You’re ju

The Maybach purred to a stop in front of Halcyon & Co., but Vincent Sinclair’s eyes weren’t on the gleaming building he practically owned.They were on the spectacle unraveling at the bus stop.There she was—his new secretary. His one-night mistake.Isabella Rossi.She stumbled off the bus like she’d barely survived a bar fight with the morning commute. Her blouse was crooked, her skirt twisted, her hair defying gravity with feral determination.And—he squinted—was that toast still in her mouth?Next to him, Julian Hart scrolled through his tablet, rattling off the morning’s schedule.“Board review at nine. Then the investment call with Zurich. After that, the quarterly presentation rehearsal. Oh, and legal wants five minutes, but I told them you’ll give two.”Vincent gave a noncommittal hum, eyes trained out the window.Julian followed his gaze and frowned. “What’s got your attention—oh.”Then let out a low whistle. “Well. That’s… a bold entrance.”Vincent leaned back in his seat, on

The Maybach slid into Aspire Mall’s underground garage, purring like an apex predator at rest.During the ride, Isabella had been stewing in indignation—self-righteous, arms folded, replaying every smug word Vincent Sinclair had said.But now, as the tinted glass revealed the glowing emblems of the mall’s flagship brands, her bravado cracked. Her stomach dipped, and her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag.This wasn’t shopping. This was… another planet.She swallowed hard. “I thought you meant, you know… normal shopping. Like a mall department store. Not—”Her eyes snagged on the giant glowing letters ahead: Maison Etienne. The store stretched like a cathedral, marble and glass gleaming in spotless white. She nearly choked. “…Not this.”Beside her, Vincent adjusted the cuff of his jacket, face angled toward the window as if the sight barely interested him.“Of course this. What did you expect? A clearance rack?”Her jaw dropped. “You could’ve just said, ‘buy a blazer, Miss Rossi