Chapter 4The Boss I Left Behind

The next day, at the executive meeting.

When Asher Vance walked into the conference room, everyone unconsciously sat up a little straighter.

I studied him from behind the thick lenses of my glasses.

He had a tall, commanding posture and sharp, striking features. As he took his seat, the unbuttoned edge of his suit jacket brushed the table, revealing the crisp folds of a white dress shirt tucked into his waist.

The wild, broken boy I once knew had grown into a formidable, inscrutable man.

He listened to Mark's presentation for the Marketing Department.

His hands rested casually on the table. He nodded occasionally, his expression completely neutral.

Without any warning.

He suddenly turned his head and looked right at me.

I didn't have time to look away. My heart instantly skipped a beat.

But it seemed like just a casual glance, and he quickly looked away.

"About this expense report from the Marketing Department." His voice wasn't loud, but the conference room immediately fell dead silent.

"Make an exception. I'm approving it."

Chloe immediately shot me a triumphant, mocking look.

After the meeting, Mark stopped me, a lukewarm smile playing on his lips.

"Rules are dead, people are alive. You've lived to this age and you're still so rigid and inflexible. Haven't you suffered enough for it?"

I clutched my files and looked at him.

"Mark, you getting rejected by me is the standard process. The CEO making a special exception is also the standard process. You're a department director; is that concept really so hard for you to grasp?"

He scoffed. "Claire, between us…"

"Director Davis."

A voice cut in from behind.

Asher Vance stood in the middle of the hallway, hands in his pockets, his face devoid of any extra emotion.

"Come to my office."

My chest tightened.

In the CEO's office.

Asher and I were separated by a massive, imposing mahogany desk.

"The Finance Department bears the brunt of the pressure when implementing new policies. Friction during the transition period is inevitable. You need to manage the boundaries well."

His tone was flat and strictly professional. It was purely a superior addressing a subordinate.

He gave me a few more directives. His pace was steady, his logic flawless. He gave off an aura of mature, unapproachable distance that was completely different from the young man in my memory who always spoke to me with a hint of reckless desperation.

The knot in my chest loosened.

"Understood, Mr. Vance."

His secretary came in to deliver tea. He looked down, opened a drawer, took out a blue velvet box, and slid it across the desk toward me.

I didn't move.

The secretary smiled and said, "Director Davis, this is the welcome gift the CEO is giving to all the department heads. It's a luxury fountain pen. Everyone else has received theirs; you're the last one."

Asher took a sip of his tea, his long, pale fingers tapping lightly against the top of the box.

"Want it?"

He murmured those two words softly.

Maybe it was because he had just taken a sip of hot tea, but the words sounded almost breathless, slipping through his lips wrapped in a damp heat.

A familiar shiver swept down my spine.

My mouth suddenly felt very dry.