Choosing The Assistant Over The Ruthless CEO

Dessie POV

I woke up to the sharp, chemical sting of antiseptic and the monotonous beep of a machine.

My face felt tight, as if the skin were two sizes too small for my skull. I touched my cheek. It was swollen hot and tender.

"Don't touch it," a voice said from the shadows.

Elek was sitting in a chair next to the bed. He looked terrible. His tie was undone, his hair disordered, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the armrests. He looked like he had been fighting a war.

"How long was I out?" I asked. My voice was shredded, barely a whisper.

"A few hours," he said. "Stress. Dehydration. And a mild concussion from the fall."

He poured me a cup of water. His hands were shaking slightly as he held the straw to my lips.

"I saw what he did," Elek said, his voice low and dangerous. "The whole company saw it. Someone filmed it."

"Good," I said.

The pain in my cheek throbbed, but instead of making me weak, it sharpened my mind. The fog was gone. The sadness was gone. All that was left was a cold, hard resolve that felt like steel in my spine.

I sat up. The room spun for a second, then steadied.

"I need my lawyer," I said.

"She's outside," Elek said. "Petra. She's been waiting."

Petra came in. She looked like a warrior dressed in Armani. She had a tablet in her hand and blood in her eyes.

"We have the video," Petra said without preamble. "Assault. Emotional distress. We can sue him for everything he has."

"Do it," I said. "But first, I want the divorce finalized. Today."

"He's stalling," Petra said. "He claims he was provoked."

"Get him here," I said. "Tell him I have the audit logs."

Elek looked up, confusion flickering across his face. "What audit logs?"

"The Chimera Project," I said. "I built the backend. I know where the money went. Craig skimmed off the top. He used company funds to pay for Chanel's 'consulting fees.'"

Elek's eyes went wide. "That's embezzlement."

"Yes," I said. "Get him here."

Two hours later, Craig walked into the hospital room. He had his lawyer with him. He looked annoyed, not guilty-like a man inconvenienced by a traffic ticket.

"This is ridiculous," Craig said, adjusting his cufflinks. "Dragging me here. I should be pressing charges against you for harassment."

He looked at my bruised face. He didn't flinch. There was zero humanity in his gaze.

"You fell," he said, smoothly. "You were drunk."

"I haven't had a drink in nine months," I lied, my voice steady.

"Sign the papers, Craig."

"No," he said, sneering. "I'm not giving you a dime. You embarrassed me."

Petra stepped forward. She placed a folder on the tray table with a heavy thud.

"This is a log of transactions from the Chimera budget," Petra said, her tone clinical. "July 14th. Fifty thousand dollars to a shell company registered to Chanel Murphy. August 2nd. Another thirty thousand."

Craig froze. His arrogance evaporated instantly, leaving behind a terrified child. His face went pale.

"Where did you get this?" he whispered.

"I wrote the code, Craig," I said. "I see everything."

He looked at the papers. His hands started to tremble.

"If I release this," I said, "you go to jail. Chanel gets implicated. Her daddy's stock plummets."

Craig looked at his lawyer for a lifeline. The lawyer shook his head slowly, closing his briefcase. You're screwed, the gesture said.

"What do you want?" Craig asked. His voice was hollow.

"Sign the divorce papers," I said. "Uncontested. I keep my car. You keep your debt. And you leave me the hell alone."

He grabbed the pen. He signed the document so hard he almost tore the paper.

"There," he spat, tossing the pen onto the bed. "Are you happy?"

"I'm not happy," I said. "I'm free."

He turned to leave. At the door, he stopped.

"You think you've won," he said. His eyes were filled with venom. "But you're damaged goods, Dessie. No one will want you. You'll rot alone."

"Get out," Elek said. He stood up, unfolding his full height. He was taller than Craig and infinitely more dangerous.

"Before I finish what you started."

Craig sneered, though he took a step back. "Enjoy my leftovers, Elek."

He slammed the door.

The room was quiet, the echo of the slam vibrating in the air.

I looked at the signed papers. It was over. The man I loved was dead. The man who just left was a stranger.

I felt a tear slide down my cheek. It stung the bruise like salt.

"He's wrong," Elek said softly.

I looked at him.

"About what?"

"About you being damaged," he said. "You're not damaged. You're unbreakable."

I took a deep breath. It hurt my ribs, but it filled my lungs with oxygen that finally felt mine.

"I'm leaving the company," I said. "I'm leaving the city."

"Where will you go?"

"Somewhere he can't find me," I said. "Somewhere I can breathe."

I swung my legs off the bed. My hospital gown was thin, but I felt like I was wearing armor.

I walked to the window. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the skyline. The city looked different now. It didn't look like a cage anymore.

It looked like a map.

I was bruised. I was bleeding. I was alone.

But for the first time in five years, the face looking back at me in the reflection was mine.