I thought to myself, "I’m done for."

Previously, Desmond Brown, who worked as a secretary in the office, got fired simply because he held the coffee cup with his left hand when serving it to Osborn.

After that incident, the entire office kept their distance from Osborn, fearing they might get fired for even a minor mistake.

This time, no one wanted to deliver the documents, and they all passed the responsibility around until it landed on me.

Now, I almost set Osborn's house on fire, and I was sure I'd be in hot water for this!

Just when I was feeling anxious, Osborn finally spoke.

"Are you injured?"

I shook my head, looking somewhat dejected.

Osborn sighed. "Forget it, just make sure such things don’t happen again."

I lifted my head in astonishment.

Did he just tell me not to let such matters happen again?

Osborn was surprisingly lenient! Nothing like what my colleagues had described as heartless!

I was both touched and guilty. "I'm sorry, Mr. Borne, I'm just not used to cooking yet. Please let me try again!" He didn't listen and, with a stern face, chased me out of the kitchen, deciding to cook himself.

The way he adjusted his cuffs was filled with allure, and I couldn't help but sneak a few more glances.

Indeed, Osborn was impressive, looking handsome even in a Hello Kitty apron.

I thanked Osborn. After enduring so much of me, he still graciously let me eat the meal he prepared.

Osborn's culinary skills were impressive. I couldn't resist having an extra bowl of rice, and I praised him with a thumbs-up while eating.

Osborn finally looks a little bit happy, though his tone still carried some disdain. "Eat slower; no one is going to compete with you for food."

After that, the kitchen became Osborn's territory.

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

Today was the monthly staff meeting, where each department head had to give a summary of their work.

Since I couldn't go to the office because of quarantine restrictions, I had to ask to join a video conference with the supervisor.

While listening to the opening remarks of the vice president, I found myself getting drowsy, resting my chin on my hand. Normally, these kinds of meetings were for the top executives and didn't concern me.

To my surprise, when our supervisor, Anne Jones, started speaking, I was called out!

Anne’s tone was sharp as she spoke, "Recently, I received a report about employees falsely claiming that their neighborhood is under quarantine and requesting to work from home.

“Such behavior is profoundly unethical and has had a negative impact on our employees. Annabelle Ford, I request that you provide an explanation to everyone right now!”

I lifted my head in confusion, seeing my drowsy face on the conference screen.

I suddenly snapped to attention and said, "Miss Jones, I, I didn't lie. The residential area I'm in is indeed under quarantine..."

"Don't try to defend yourself," Anne sternly interrupted.

"I've double-checked! The only place under quarantine in recent days is Walford Estate! Do you happen to reside in Walford Estate?

"Mr. Borne resides in Walford Estate. Are you a neighbor of Mr. Borne?"

I was left speechless and flustered, unable to respond.

I was just an ordinary worker, and Walford Estate was a famous upscale residential area. If I were the supervisor, I probably wouldn't believe that one of my underlings lived in such a high-end community.

Anne chuckled sarcastically, as if she was about to make a judgment, but then abruptly, she fell silent, as though someone had strangled her.

I was equally stunned, staring blankly at the man who had suddenly appeared on the screen.

Osborn was wearing his bathrobe, lazily leaning against my door.

"Annabelle, where’s my underwear that I left in the bathroom?"

There was silence.

A prolonged silence.

A long and suffocating silence.

In the meeting room, those who had been dozing off, playing with their phones, or counting their fingers all straightened up, their gazes fixed on the projection screen at the front.

I even noticed someone sneakily revealing their phone's camera.

I glanced at Osborn and then at Anne, who had a puzzled expression on her face. After a moment of hesitation, I told Osborn, "I placed it in the bedroom cabinet, the one next to the bed."

I chose to answer Osborn’s question first, leaving Anne’s issue hanging.

Anne’s expression seemed to be on the brink of collapse.

Osborn seemed to have just realized I was in the meeting, and he came straight over, looking at Anne on the screen, asking, "Did you just make an accusation regarding Annabelle's work attitude?

"Tell me what’s the problem.”

I admit, that statement sounded like he was backing me up.

I promise, with all sincerity, he was just asking a question. He might have even found it a little funny.

However, Anne clearly misunderstood. She stood up and bowed repeatedly to the camera, saying, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you and Annabelle... live together..."

"Well, then, there shouldn't be any problem, right?" Osborn glanced at the clock. "The meeting has been going on for a while now. It should end soon.

"Annabelle has other things to attend to."

Anne didn't dare say a word and hurriedly ended the video call as if she might explode if she looked at me for another second.

Meanwhile, the office's chat group was buzzing:

"So, is Annabelle living with Mr. Borne? That's too sensational!"

"He even asked her about his underwear, it must be cohabitation!"

"Didn't you hear what Mr. Borne said? She has other matters to attend to. What can she be busy with at home? Those who are aware of the situation would understand what he meant!"

"Is it really appropriate to discuss this here? Annabelle is also in the group."

"She never speaks in the group; she must have blocked it."

"Clearly, she's living with Mr. Borne. She used to act like she had no connections, and endured bullying without saying a word. She's really good at keeping quiet."

"I bet our discipline mistress is panicking right now."

Absolutely! Mr. Borne is firmly backing Annabelle. Perhaps discipline mistress will be fired tomorrow.”

“Our discipline mistress has always been bossy, but today, she's finally encountered someone who can stand up to her. What a relief!”

"I agree!"

They used the nickname "discipline mistress" to address Anne in private.

While some employees were simply enjoying the saga, others couldn't resist being sarcastic.

Sharon Gill replied, “Does anyone seriously believe that Annabelle is our Lady Boss?”

"Isn't she? They were living together, after all!"

Sharon added, “Considering Annabelle's character, how could Mr. Borne ever be interested in her?"

Sharon had influential connections that facilitated her entry into the company. Rumor had it that she had family ties with the board of directors, which made Anne hesitant to speak up when talking to her. When Sharon expressed her views, others often took them quite seriously.

"Why is Mr. Borne speaking up for her then?"

Sharon replied, “Maybe he's just being diplomatic. In any case, she can't be his girlfriend. Mr. Borne isn't interested in her.

“Who knows, maybe she uses the excuse of delivering documents to get close to him."

"Is that true? I can't believe Annabelle would be that kind of person."

"I would never believe it either; she always seemed so honest."

Sharon added, “It's all an act. I was her college classmate, and her reputation wasn't great. I even heard rumors of her two-timing before."

"You both went to the same college? Sharon, didn't you attend an Ivy League school? Annabelle has quite an impressive educational background."

Sharon replied, “What's the use of a good education? She's still a loser. Let's not talk about her anymore. It's a bad omen. Let me show you my new bag instead..."

I was still staring at the group chat when Osborn’s impatient voice came through.

"Why are you just standing there? It's time to clean the house."

I turned to him, looking sincere.

"Mr. Borne, there's a rumor going around that we slept together."

Osborn froze in his tracks.

"Who said that? That's so disrespectful!"

I vigorously nodded, "Exactly! How could they insult our pure working relationship like this!"

Osborn continued, "Why would they think I could be interested in you?"

I was certain that at that instant, I detected a hint of real puzzlement in Osborn's gaze. I lowered myself and remarked, "Yes, Osborn, they're insulting your taste."

"However, could it be that your sudden appearance here seemed somewhat surprising?" I selected my words carefully, "When a man and a woman live together, it can easily lead to misconceptions. After all, you're remarkably good-looking, charismatic, and refined. Ninety percent of women worldwide would bow down before you..."

Osborn's face twitched, and there was a hint of caution in his gaze. "Are you interested in me?"

Osborn had grown up abroad and clearly didn't have a sufficient understanding of certain expressions to fully grasp the meaning behind my words. To him, it sounded like a genuine compliment.

I realized I had gone too far with flattery and quickly waved my hand. "Certainly not! I genuinely respect you from the bottom of my heart!"

"That's good," Osborn, like any shrewd boss, presented an optimistic view to me. "Work hard. I've read your job performance summary, and it's well-written, better than what your supervisor wrote, anyway."

I pondered for a moment, thinking he was probably hinting at me to work diligently, so I could replace Anne and become the new "discipline mistress." Unfortunately, my aspirations lay elsewhere.

But I still thanked him, "Thank you, Mr. Borne, for speaking up for me today."

"Was I supposed to watch you get scolded?" Osborn gave me a sidelong glance. "You're stuck here due to work, and now you have to bear the accusation of being unprofessional. That's not fair.

"Don't overthink it," Osborn's tone was unusually gentle. "Your brain might misfire considering its size"

I had gotten used to his sarcastic and teasing remarks, and I didn't bother arguing with him. I just replied with an okay and went on to clean the house.

Speaking of cleaning, it was more like turning on the robot vacuum and watching it go in circles around the room. During the downtime, I took out my tablet and opened a design report I had previously prepared to check it.

As I was engrossed in reading, a deep male voice softly spoke, "Who did this report?"

I jumped in surprise and turned to him, "What's wrong? Is it not good?"

Osborn took a sip of his coffee and sounded disdainful, "It's terrible."

"This part here is too messy, and the logic is unclear," Osborn grabbed the pen and made a few marks on the screen. "And you should list the items here."

I watched as he made a few quick edits to the report, and then I went through it again, feeling like I had suddenly grasped something important.

"But it seems like this person has some good ideas." Osborn handed me the pen back and took another sip of his coffee. "If the writing could be a bit more standardized, it would be an excellent design report."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Hehe."

Osborn looked at me with a puzzled expression. "What are you laughing at?"