After a lunch filled with laughter and warmth with Nadia, Mia hurried back to her office. A soft smile lingered on her lips—today, for the first time since starting at RIC Group, she felt like she had an ally.
But the moment she opened the office door, that smile vanished.
Her eyes froze on an indecent sight—two people entangled intimately on the office sofa. Mia stood frozen, her eyes wide in disbelief, and a wave of disgust surged through her.
"Damn it… my eyes just got cursed by this playboy boss," she thought, instinctively turning to leave.
But a cold voice halted her in her tracks.
"Stop."
The voice was sharp, calm, and commanding. A voice that could stop time.
Mia swallowed hard, slowly turning back around.
"Yes, sir?" she asked flatly, trying to remain composed even though her heart was pounding with outrage.
Rico stood up, lazily adjusting his shirt. His gaze was sharp—cutting.
"Tch. You don't even realize your mistake, do you?" he said, stepping toward her slowly, like a predator eyeing its prey.
Mia frowned, confused. "Mistake?"
"You entered without knocking. What, do you think you can just barge in here like you own the place?" he snapped, now standing right in front of her.
Mia held her breath for a second, then bowed slightly.
"My apologies, sir. I didn't know you were... entertaining a guest. I'll take my leave. Once again, I'm sorry."
But Rico only smirked.
"No need. I'm not in the mood anymore," he said casually, as if his vulgar words were no big deal.
Mia blinked, staring at him with open disgust she could no longer hide.
"Ugh... what a pig. And not even ashamed to speak like that," she muttered under her breath—just loud enough for Rico to hear.
He paused and glanced at her, but instead of getting angry, he chuckled softly—a laugh that dripped with mockery.
"From now on, knock. And remember your place, Mia," he said, turning his back and walking toward his desk.
Mia exhaled sharply, forcing herself to swallow the fury boiling inside.
"I'll keep working professionally… but that doesn't mean you get to walk all over me," she thought bitterly.
Rico walked back toward the woman he had been "entertaining." The model's face, which earlier beamed with flirtation, was now clearly irritated, though she tried to keep her poise.
She was a recognizable face from billboards and fashion magazines. But here—before Rico—she looked more like someone trying to salvage her dignity beneath a mask of glamour.
"You can leave now. I've got more important things to do," Rico said flatly, running a hand lazily through his hair.
The model scoffed quietly, slipping on her thin jacket. But her steps halted when she heard his next words.
"As for the payment—forget it. We had an agreement. If you can't satisfy me, don't expect a cent."
His gaze was piercing—cold and merciless.
The woman's face flushed. Not from embarrassment—from fury. She bit her lower lip, swallowing the humiliation.
"Damn it… it's all because of that nerdy girl. She ruined my chance and cost me my money," she fumed silently. But she dared not speak a word in front of Rico.
She turned swiftly and walked out, shoulders stiff, holding back the shame that burned her from the inside out.
As the door clicked shut, Rico let out a sharp, heavy breath.
His gaze returned to Mia, who was still standing by her desk, quietly organizing the scattered documents.
His footsteps echoed toward her—each one heavy with unspent rage.
"I'm not finished talking to you," he said sharply.
Mia paused but didn't turn.
"Go ahead, Mr. Rico," she replied curtly, her voice steady.
Rico stood in front of her now. Their eyes met.
His stare was calculating—like a predator sizing up his prey.
"You interrupted my business earlier. If you plan to last here, learn your place and how to behave," he said firmly.
Mia met his gaze, unfazed.
"I'm here to work, not to meddle in your personal business... especially anything that happens on a sofa," she said, calm yet laced with cutting sarcasm.
"I'm not interested in your explanations," Rico shot back coldly. "Next time, knock before entering my office."
Mia's glare sharpened.
"Then perhaps next time, you should lock the door—if you're so afraid of being 'exposed.'"
Her tone was icy.
"My innocent eyes were tainted by your indecency, sir."
Rico fell silent for a moment.
Her words had landed like a slap—not for their tone, but for her sheer audacity.
A crooked smirk appeared on his lips.
"You're starting to pique my interest, Mia."
She didn't respond.
She merely gathered the now-sorted documents and gave a curt nod.
"If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave."
Rico narrowed his eyes. Her boldness was becoming a problem.
"Damn it... This woman actually dares to lecture me. Me, her boss," he thought, jaw tight.
But he said nothing.
If their spat ever reached Biromo's ears, his father wouldn't hesitate to punish him—or worse, destroy his reputation altogether.
Rico could only watch Mia's back as she walked away.
There was something about her that he couldn't quite explain.
Not just irritation... but a strange pull born of her defiance.
"Whatever. I have no time to argue with someone like you," he snapped, flopping into his chair.
"Get the documents I asked for done. Now."
Mia scoffed quietly, then sat back down at her desk.
She threw him a sideways glance.
"What a weird boss," she muttered, loud enough to be heard.
She opened her laptop, grumbling in her head,
"I need to finish this quickly. The longer I stay here, the more nauseating things I'll have to see. My eyes might suffer permanent damage."
Rico, still fuming, noticed Mia glancing his way again.
"Why do you keep looking at me? Falling for me already?"
Mia turned to him, expression bored.
"You flatter yourself too much, sir. I'm looking at my screen, not at irrelevant things like you."
Rico choked back a laugh, shocked by her brazenness.
"You! I'm your superior. Watch your tone," he barked.
But Mia only raised an eyebrow and replied coolly,
"My boss is Mr. Biromo. He's the one who pays me. Not you. So don't expect blind obedience."
Rico clenched his jaw. The fire in his chest was rising, but he couldn't afford a scandal.
Mia bent back over her screen, muttering,
"If it weren't for Mr. Biromo, I would've walked out already. Working with a pervert? No, thanks."
Rico gritted his teeth.
He was insulted—not just because of her words, but because he couldn't make her submit.
She was fearless. Untamed.
And that only made her more impossible to ignore.
He stayed silent. For now, he had to play smart.
After all, Mia wasn't just a new assistant—
She was under the protection of his father.
Mia glanced his way again. Rico hadn't said a word.
She smirked faintly.
Today, she'd won.
She returned to her work, fingers dancing over the keyboard, finishing her report with swift precision.
Meanwhile, Rico signed the last of his documents and cracked his neck.
"If you're done, go home. Don't linger," he said flatly.
Mia paused, narrowing her eyes.
"Are you kicking me out?"
Rico leaned back, spinning a pen lazily between his fingers.
"Who said that? I'm simply encouraging you to rest early. As a caring boss, of course. Don't want to be accused of overworking my staff, now do I?" he said with syrupy sarcasm.
Mia sighed and began packing up her things.
"Doesn't matter. Whether you're pretending to be kind or generous—I don't care," she said icily.
Then she looked straight at him.
"All I know is—you're a weird, perverted boss."
Rico froze. For a beat, he didn't move.
The pen stilled in his fingers.
He'd been around plenty of women. He knew he was charming, irresistible even.
But no one had ever insulted him so blatantly—to his face.
"Damn it... This woman really has no idea who she's dealing with," he thought, fists clenched.
Mia didn't care.
She grabbed her bag and strode to the door.
Rico could only watch as she walked away—
And for once, he was the one left speechless.
He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth to keep the rage from exploding.
One wrong move… and the infamous "Playboy Boss" could instantly be rebranded as a Predator—especially with his father watching every step.
"I'll make her submit one day… but not today," he vowed silently, his fists tightening at his sides.
---
Mia stepped out of the RIC Group building without looking back.
Her shoulders were square, her gaze forward.
To her, this was a small victory.
And sometimes, a small victory was all it took to survive in a battlefield full of snakes.
She took a deep breath, letting the sharp, humid air fill her lungs.
The city still bustled around her—cars honking, people rushing by—but inside, she felt a rare kind of clarity.
"No matter how much they underestimate me, I'm not going down easy," she thought.
Then she walked on.
Back straight.
Head high.
And a storm quietly brewing in her chest.