I Slept With My Ex. Now He's My Vengeful Boss?

Rosie's POV

"My sweet Rosie, how dare you forget me?"

A deep and husky voice. It tickled my ear. It triggered something in my stomach. It sent shivers down my spine.

Who was that? Who was with me?

"Did you really not remember, or you're just pretending?"

I felt his hands on my legs, caressing me there.

I didn't like it when someone touched me there because it tickled, but strangely, I liked his touch. I liked the warmth of his palm. It felt so familiar. It felt so intimate.

In all my 26 years, only one person had ever reached that hidden, vulnerable part of me. "I am the thorn in your beautiful paradise. Remember that."

Thorn?

The moment the name echoed in my mind, the face I had tried so hard to forget surfaced with painful clarity. His rebellious eyes, that confident smile as he leaned against his F1 car, the wind tangling his hair after he removed his helmet-yet the way he looked at me was always tender, always full.

That was a happiness I could never erase. And a love I would never touch again.

Six years ago, I shattered my own heart and walked away from the man who once loved me more than life.

I knew he would never forgive me.

I knew our paths would never cross again.

So this had to be a dream.

It could only be a dream.

"Oh, baby..." That voice again, low and rough against my ear. Then, soft lips brushed mine-too gentle, too knowing. "You don't get to cry now."

My lashes fluttered, struggling to focus, but my world stayed blurred, liquid with tears and desire.

A soft moan escaped me as his fingers curled around my throat-not tight, but possessive. A claim.

His touch sent shivers racing down my spine. My breath hitched, thoughts scattering until only sensation remained. That familiar, devastating sensation.

Heat sparked where his skin met mine, spreading like wildfire through my veins. My body remembered him, arching instinctively toward him before my mind could protest.

My hands lifted, trembling, to his shoulders. My lips parted, meeting his kiss with a hunger I hadn't allowed myself to feel in years. God, he felt so warm. So real-as if I'd been pulled back through time, to those nights before fate tore us apart.

The man above me stilled for a heartbeat, then let out a low, dark chuckle. "I knew you wouldn't dare forget."

Something shifted in his touch-what was restrained turned demanding, deliberate. His hands moved with purpose now, rough and punishing but careful not to break me. When his mouth found my throat, kissing and sucking until my head fell back, my toes curled into the sheets.

Then his fingers slipped beneath the last barrier between us, parting me slowly before sliding deep. I gasped, back bowing off the bed as pleasure burned through every nerve.

"Remember, Rosie," he breathed against my lips, his fingers moving inside me with ruthless precision. I shook, clinging to him, unable to let go. "If you ever forget again...I'll make you regret it."

When he finally pushed into me, filling me completely, a broken cry tore from my throat, reaching the deepest part of my soul.

***

My gaze fixed on the pale ceiling. The room was warm yet hollow, tastefully furnished and utterly still.

I lay alone in the wide bed. The morning sun streamed through the curtains, its warmth spilling across my skin-yet it couldn't reach the sudden chill that had settled deep inside me.

This wasn't my room.

A sharp inhale caught in my throat. I tried to push myself up, only to sink back with a soft groan. Every muscle ached. Swallowing hard, the fog of sleep began to clear, and with it came the crashing realization: last night was not a dream.

I'd slept with someone.

But who?

Him...?

A bitter laugh escaped me. I shook my head, dismissing the absurd thought. After everything that happened six years ago, there was no way our paths would cross again.

*"You're not worthy of my son."*

Her voice-haughty, ice-cold-still lived in my memory. His mother had looked down at me as if I were something she'd scraped off her shoe.

*"If it weren't for you, he would never have had to suffer through any of this."*

*"Take the money,"* she'd said, tossing a bank card toward me. The edge of it caught my cheek, leaving a stinging line. *"And disappear from his life. Permanently."*

I closed my eyes, fingers digging into the sheets beneath me, as if I could press the memories back down where they belonged.

*Stop it, Rosie. You and he were never from the same world. What you had was already more than you deserved.*

*Without you, he was doing just fine.*

The memory of last month's financial newspaper flashed before me-the engagement announcement printed boldly on the front page. His fiancée smiled beside him, elegant and appropriate. At that moment, I felt my heart crack all over again.

*Let it go, Rosie. You were not alone anymore.*

At the thought of Thraia, a sudden urgency tightened my chest. She must be so worried-I'd never stayed out all night before.

Ignoring the soreness, I slid out of bed. It took longer than it should have to dress. My panties were nowhere to be found, but I didn't have time to search. My bag lay on the floor nearby. I reached inside, only to pull out my broken glasses.

"Jesus!" I groaned. "I need to get another one. That's just another expense."

My name was Rosella Summers. Twenty-six, with a decent day job that paid well-on paper, at least. But I had a daughter to care for. Thraia was special, and she needed more than just the basics. So I worked nights, too.

Last night, I was on a "designated driver" shift-ferrying wealthy clients from high-end clubs back to their hotels or penthouses. Something went wrong.

I never drank. I was a lightweight, and I knew it. But last night... I must have had something.

Somehow, some way, I ended up in bed with my client. The only small mercy was that he was already gone. I lifted my head, scanning the room once more.

The suite around me was understated luxury-clean lines, muted tones, the kind of quiet that only money could buy. Whoever he was, he had wealth and taste. I could only hope he wasn't the messy, complicated type.

Don't get me wrong-I was not looking for a rich fling.

I was a woman fighting to make ends meet. Time was a luxury I didn't have, and I had no patience for games. I had a degree, a real job-I hadn't fallen so low that I'd sell myself for a quick fix. Taking that money six years ago was humiliating enough, even if I had no choice at the time.

I wouldn't give anyone the chance to walk over me again.

Bag in hand, I walked out without looking back.

***

Inside the Uber, I opened the ride-share app and refunded the fare from last night. Clients at his level wouldn't miss the money, but I'd never liked feeling like I owed anyone anything. Thanks to years of solid ratings, the refund went through instantly. Then, without hesitation, I blocked his profile.

The system would never match us again.

We could disappear from each other's lives. No one had to remember. Perfect.

I tried to smile at my faint reflection in the window, but it came out strained and tired.

It had been so long since I'd dreamed of him-not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't dare. And now, after one reckless night, I'd given myself to a stranger over a foolish dream. A dull, quiet ache spread through me.

There had never been anyone else. Not in that way.

Tears threatened, but I brushed them away before they could fall.

"No regrets, Rosie," I whispered, voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. "You know that leaving was the only choice."

I made myself smile again, fingers tracing the small, hand-painted ceramic heart dangling from my phone-glazed in soft pink, with a tiny golden star painted in the center. Thraia had picked it out for me last Christmas.

"With this, Rosie will be under Santa's protection," she'd declared, so serious and bright. "You'll be the happiest woman ever."

Her voice echoed in my mind, steadying me, pulling me back into the present.

Yes. Life went on. I didn't need to dwell on the past-or on reckless mistakes. My happiness was waiting for me at home, in our small apartment, in the little girl who called me 'Mommy'.

As the car pulled away, I didn't notice the pair of furious, familiar eyes watching my direction from the rearview mirror.

My past wasn't done with me yet.

Rosie's POV

I kept on glancing at the cars ahead of the taxi I was riding while calling Mrs. Parker. She was the owner of the apartment I was renting and she loved taking care of my daughter whenever I was at work. My daughter loved her too because she was kind and caring.

[Hello, Rosie? Where are you? I knocked on your unit and Thraia said you didn't come home last night. Thraia, here's your mom.]

I bit my bottom lip and took a deep sigh. I saw Mrs. Parker's countless missed calls when I got in the taxi, and I felt guilty.

Thraia was alone last night. I couldn't imagine what would've happened to me if something happened to her.

[Hello, mommy? Are you coming home now? I was scared, mommy. I thought you disappeared.] Her innocent voice touched my heart, but there was pain and guilt.

"Baby..." I whispered. "I'm sorry. And no, I will never disappear."

[It's okay, mommy. I'm a big girl now. I bathed and dressed on my own. I also braided my hair like you always do, but Mrs. Parker said it was messy, so she fixed it for me.]

I smiled as I looked at my hands. "Yes, you're a big girl now and mommy is so proud of you. But mommy shouldn't have left you alone. I love you, baby."

[I love you too, mommy.] She responded happily before I heard Mrs. Parker's voice again.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Parker. I'm on my way home now. Can you look after Thraia until I come?"

[Of course. She's finishing her breakfast. Just get home safe.]

I nodded as I glanced outside again. "Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Parker."

The road was busy. Cars honking, engines humming. The noises were too loud even when I was inside the taxi and it was making my head hurt more.

I swallowed hard as I massaged my temple, trying to ease the pain. I shut my eyes tight and was relieved when the taxi started moving again.

It took me almost ten minutes before I arrived at the apartment. I panicked when I saw the school bus coming, so I quickly paid my fare and ran out of the taxi despite my aching body.

"Mommy!" My sweet daughter ran to me when she saw me. Behind her was Mrs. Parker who's carrying her tumbler.

Her face was a bit blurry in my vision because I'm not wearing my eyeglasses, but I kneeled in front of Thraia and caressed her hair. "Baby, I'm sorry. Mommy's late."

Her small hands caressed my cheeks as I saw her sweet smile.

"It's okay, Mommy. I know you work hard for me. I wish I wasn't sick..."

"No..." I shook my head, cupping her face. "Don't ever think that. Mommy loves you so much, and that's why I work hard. I want you to have everything you need, so please don't worry, okay?"

She smiled again and nodded. "Okay, mommy."

I smiled as I stood and looked at her. My little sunshine had always been positive.

Mrs. Parker handed me the tumbler. I sent Thraia to the waiting school bus. I waved at her as the bus left. Then I felt Mrs. Parker's presence beside me.

"Where have you been, Rosie?" She looked worried. "I thought something happened to you. I reported to the police early in the morning, but they said they couldn't consider you missing because it hadn't been twenty-four hours."

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Parker," I said, offering an apologetic smile. "Something came up last night, but I promise it won't happen again."

She nodded slowly. "It better not."

I yawned and sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. The soreness hadn't faded at all.

Was I getting older, or had it just been that long since I...? Did sex usually leave you feeling like you'd been through a marathon?*

Lost in thought, I didn't notice my collar slipping until Mrs. Parker's eyes narrowed.

"Rosie," she said quietly, her gaze fixed just below my jaw. "What... is that?"

I followed her stare and froze. A faint but unmistakable mark stood out against my skin-a hickey. That bastard actually left a mark.

Quickly pulling my collar up, I forced a light laugh. "I'm running late for work-gotta get ready! Thank you again for everything!"

I hurried back to my apartment, straight into the bathroom, and unbuttoned my blouse. Leaning close to the mirror, my stomach dropped. It wasn't just my neck. Bruises and faint red marks scattered across my collarbone, my hips, and the inside of my thighs.

'Was he part vampire? Who does this?'

He was definitely unhinged. Thank God I'd already blocked him.

'Please let us never meet again.'

I took a quick shower, then spent extra time layering concealer over every trace he'd left behind. The last thing I needed was to become office gossip.

By the time I stepped out, Mrs. Parker was waiting by my door.

"I thought you might not have time for breakfast," she said, handing me a wrapped sandwich still warm from the toaster.

The gesture sent a wave of warmth through me. Mrs. Parker never said it outright, but she'd come to treat Thraia and me like family. Over the years, her quiet support had been the reason we'd managed to stay afloat.

"Thank you, Mrs. Parker," I said, meeting her eyes. "I'll enjoy every bite."

As I turned toward the elevator, she called after me, "Rosie..." Her voice held a note of hesitation. "I know it's not my place, but... have you ever considered reaching out to Thraia's father?"

My spine stiffened. My hand trembled slightly as I reached for the elevator button. It wasn't that I hadn't thought about it. It was that...

"It's alright," I said, forcing a smile. "I can handle things on my own."

Mrs. Parker hesitated, then stepped closer and took my hand. "I know you're strong and capable, Rosie. But... if there's another way, you don't have to carry everything alone."

My lips trembled. I wanted to argue, to tell her I had no other choice. But she just gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm not judging you. I just... hate seeing you work yourself to the bone. You're still so young. You could have..."

"This is enough for me," I said softly, fighting to keep my voice steady. "But I appreciate your concern. I promise-if there ever comes a day when I can't be the mother Thraia needs, I'll tell you."

She studied me, conflict still flickering in her eyes. Finally, she sighed and nodded. "Alright. I understand."

The elevator doors slid open just then. "I should go, Mrs. Parker."

"Go on. Take care."

***

I took an hour off in the morning to swing by the optometrist for new glasses. Without them, I couldn't work efficiently. By the time I reached the company, it was almost ten.

As soon as I stepped into the elevator, I caught pieces of hushed conversation from a small group of colleagues gathered inside.

"Did you hear about the new CEO? My friend in HR said he's a hottie, but brutal."

"I heard. God, they say he's unreal."

I listened with a slight frown as the two women in front of me kept talking.

The previous CEO had fallen ill, and rumors had been swirling that his godson would be taking over. I guessed this was him.

"I heard he scolded someone in HR this morning. Though honestly, they said he looks even hotter when he's angry."

"I bet he's just as intense in bed." One of them giggled, lowering her voice. "Imagine that stare fixed on you in the dark..."

They both laughed softly, while I let out a quiet sigh.

I didn't care about the new CEO. I just hoped my workload wouldn't increase too much-otherwise, I had no idea how I'd manage my side jobs.

The two women stepped out before the elevator reached the executive floors. When the doors slid open again, I saw Claire pacing nearby, phone pressed to her ear.

Claire was my friend. My only friend in this company.

"Rosie, thank God you're here," she breathed out when she saw me. "I couldn't reach you." I quickly checked my phone-dead.

"Battery died," I said. "Am I late for something?"

She shook her head. "Not late, but the new CEO is in. He asked for his senior executive assistant. Now."

I nodded and put my bag on my table before I walked towards the CEO office. Smoothing down my blouse and pencil skirt, I took a deep breath and knocked.

I was calm. At work, I was always calm, always poised. But when I saw the man seated behind the desk, my body froze.

The room seemed to shrink. His gaze pinned me in place like a physical force. My heart hammered, and a feeling I'd tried so hard to bury deep inside rushed back-raw and immediate.

The man I'd run from six years ago.

Thorn Rockwell.

My ex-boyfriend-and now, my new boss.

Thorn's POV

Rosella Summers. This unforgotten name had haunted me for the past years, and I never thought that a grim satisfaction was what I'd feel now that she was standing in front of me. In flesh, utterly shocked.

What in the hell was with those dated glasses? Annoying. But they couldn't hide the emotions on her face. The door clicked shut softly behind her.

Six years. She was finally out of any places to hide. What a fate!

I remained seated on my swivel chair, gently moving it from side to side while my eyes watched her intensely.

I could practically smell her fear, her shock. The stunned stillness in her expression was deeply satisfying.

Then my gaze drifted lower, to her throat, to her neck. My mark from last night should have been there. But it was gone... covered up.

"You... asked for me, sir?"

Her voice made my jaw clench. God, how I'd missed the way she once called my name.

I never forgot the day I woke up after the surgery-alive, stitched back together, and utterly alone. After everything we'd been through, I'd believed what we had was unbreakable. I'd expected to see her there, holding my hand, her eyes full of the same fierce love I felt for her.

Instead, she was gone. No note. No call. Just silence.

That betrayal cut deeper than any wound. In the weeks that followed, I lost count of how many times I dialed her number, only to hear the same automated message telling me the line was disconnected. I hired investigators, combed through every trace she might have left, chasing shadows of a woman who had erased herself from my world completely.

For six years, there was nothing. No word. No sign. Only a hollow space inside me, gnawing me into a monster no one else could understand.

For six years, she lived freely, while I was left drowning in hell.

Now, at last, I'd found her. And I would never allow her to disappear again.

She was going to be trapped in my world-until she paid for what she'd done to me.

"I need a concise overview of the company's current operations. I don't want opinions-I want clear, factual explanations." My voice was cold as I watched her approach and stop behind my desk. The initial shock on her face had vanished, replaced by a detached professionalism.

"Understood, sir. We maintain regular summaries. I can pull the relevant files immediately," she replied, her tone respectful yet distant.

Her composed posture and formal delivery irritated me more than I cared to admit.

'My sweet Rosie has grown claws over the years, hasn't she?'

"Pulling files is too slow," I said, lowering my voice with deliberate impatience. "Narrate it to me. Now."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face, but she smoothed it over quickly. Straightening her posture, she began outlining the company's recent performance. But I wasn't listening-not to her words. All I could see was the movement of her lips, and all I could remember was the way she'd looked beneath me last night, falling apart under my touch.

My fist tightened against the polished surface of the desk. I stared into her eyes, searching for my own reflection as I once could-just as I had last night, when she'd surrendered to me completely. But those damned glasses made it impossible.

She never used to wear them.

"Why do you-" I began, clearing my throat roughly, but the door opened again. Two more assistants entered, and my frown deepened.

"Apologies, Mr. Rockwell. We were delayed." They positioned themselves beside Rosella, neither meeting my eyes directly. Only Rosella once had the courage.

I released my clenched fist slowly.

"I want a detailed breakdown of your current responsibilities. Time allocation. Response windows. Priorities," I said, leaning back in my chair with an air of disinterest.

They started listing their duties, but the only voice I truly heard was hers.

My gaze remained fixed on her. I didn't want to look away. Even through those unflattering frames, I wanted her eyes on mine. Yet she kept avoiding direct contact.

Still running, even now.

"If I were to eliminate one assistant position today," I asked, a faint, cold smile touching my lips, "whose workload could be absorbed without disrupting operations?"

Rosella's gaze finally locked with mine, unmistakable fear flashing through her face. But it lasted only a moment. Instinctively, she took a small step forward, shoulders squaring in a posture that was both defensive and defiant.

"Sir, with all due respect, you can't do that. These positions function independently within their defined scopes, and historical performance has proven the structure to be both viable and effective."

I tilted my head, watching her with icy detachment. How ironic. She could so easily stand up for those she believed in now-yet when I had needed her most, she hadn't even tried. She'd simply vanished, without a word.

"The past is irrelevant. This company is under my leadership now, and it will operate by my standards." I shifted my attention to the other two assistants, who stood stiffly beside her. "Why do I need more than one executive assistant?" I asked, my tone cutting.

They faltered, visibly uneasy. It was clear they were well-trained-but surviving under me required more than protocol. It required nerve.

"Because executive decision-making isn't linear," Rosella cut in again, voice firm. "Parallel processing prevents bottlenecks at your level. They report to me, and I report to you. The structure exists to facilitate efficiency in an organization of this scale."

Her eyes were wide, her breath slightly uneven from the force of her defense. That stubborn set of her jaw-it reminded me sharply of the girl I'd first met. Fiery. Unyielding. Defiant in a way that had mirrored my own rebellion back then.

She had been a surprising opponent, even then.

But so much had changed since.

I crossed one leg over the other, leaning back with a faint, unreadable smile. "Very well. Let's discuss these responsibilities further. Since you're the senior executive assistant, I assume you're fully versed in all operations." I glanced dismissively at the other two. "You're dismissed."

One of the women shot Rosella a look of sympathy as she turned to leave. But my thorny little rose only offered her a reassuring, almost tender smile in return. She could smile so easily for others. Yet she hadn't once smiled for me since stepping into this godforsaken room.

So confident she could handle me, was she?

It infuriated me.

When we were finally alone, I pulled myself up as Rosella began explaining what she clearly thought I needed to hear, her hands clasped neatly in front of her, her gaze fixed somewhere past my shoulder. Every word that came out of her lips was unclear to my ears. The sound seemed distant, but her voice was clear.

I saw her stiffen a little when I stopped in front of her and slowly seated myself on the edge of my desk. The distance between us was emphasized as she stood there like frozen meat.

Her eyes met mine. Glassy, shaken. But just as quickly, she regained her composure. The swiftness of it sent a flash of irritation through me.

"Now that we're alone," I interrupted, my tone dripping with sarcasm, "do you really plan to keep pretending we're strangers?"

She stared at me, lips slightly parted. And finally, a crack to her composure showed. There was a long pause between us as she struggled to find a word to say.

Her lips parted and closed several times before she finally swallowed hard and looked away.

"We're over years ago-"

"Six years ago," I cut in sharply, emphasizing every syllable. "Is it really that easy for you to discard what you no longer find useful?"

She inhaled sharply. "We're no longer on speaking terms."

No longer on speaking terms, huh? My jaw clenched, a humorless smile touching my lips.

"You can't even say my name, can you?"

Her eyes flicked back to mine. "I don't see the need. Besides, we're boss and employee now."

"Or is it your guilt that took away your courage to say my name?" My teeth gritted. The playful smirk on my lips slowly disappeared.

"W-Wha-"

"You probably never expected me to survive," I said, my voice low and relentless. "To wake up after you left me half-dead in that hospital bed. To stand in front of you again, alive and well."

Pain flashed in her eyes-deep, weathered, haunting. Behind those glasses, she looked fragile, but it stirred no pity in me. My rage was stronger than any mercy I could have for her right now.

"News flash, Rosella," I tilted my head as my teeth gritted again. "I'm alive. And I'm not going anywhere."

She shook her head slowly, but no words came.

Still no explanation, even now.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear..." I leaned in, my voice dropping to a near-whisper, my lips almost brushing her ear. The familiar scent of her-soft, lingering-threatened to unravel something in me, but I forced it to shut.

This reckless little flower no longer had the power to sway me.

"My coming here wasn't a coincidence. I came for one reason, and one reason only..." I paused, letting the silence thicken before finishing, "...to ruin you."

I drew back just enough to meet her eyes-eyes that still refused to look directly at me.

'You are mine, thorny little rose. Mine to break.'