AFTER MY EX BETRAYED ME, I DRUGGED THE CEO AND STOLE HIS FORTUNE

Jane's POV

The sound of the door slamming open jolted me awake, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and paper.

Robert's voice cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.

“Get up right now!” he barked, his words vibrating through the office, making the walls themselves feel like they were trembling.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to push away the fog of sleep that had clouded my mind.

I was still reeling from the stress of the last few weeks—working late nights, running on barely any sleep. But nothing could prepare me for what was coming.

There he was. Robert Smith, my annoying boss, The first son of the Smith family. A man whose name was synonymous with power, wealth, and fear.

His recent divorce had made headlines everywhere, with his ex-model wife airing their dirty laundry on live TV.

The scandal nearly destroyed his reputation, but it had only made him more unbearable.

He was a walking storm now. Always angry. Always on edge. Nothing pleased him.

His towering frame loomed over me like a shadow, and his cold, gray eyes burned with contempt. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap.

Without warning, he slammed his fist onto the desk with a force that made the papers jump, sending a jolt through my body. The sound was deafening.

“I don’t pay you to sleep, Jane!” His voice was laced with disgust. “You’re here to work, not to laze around like some damn teenager who hasn’t learned a thing about responsibility!”

I jumped to my feet, my heart hammering in my chest, blood rushing to my ears. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry!” I stammered, my voice weak, panic flooding my every word. “I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean to?” He scoffed, his lip curling into a sneer. He looked me up and down like I was the dirt on the bottom of his expensive shoes.

“What exactly do you think you're here for, Jane? A little nap on company time? You look like you’ve been wearing the same outfit for a week. Didn’t you think about putting yourself together for once?” His eyes flicked over my clothes—simple, a bit wrinkled—and he scoffed again.

“Look at you. You’ve got no sense of style, no sense of class. You might as well have walked out of a thrift store. What a joke.”

The humiliation hit me like a slap to the face.

My chest tightened, and I felt my cheeks burn. I wasn’t even sure if I was more embarrassed by his words or the crushing weight of his gaze. He had a way of making me feel like nothing—like I didn’t even matter.

I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. I couldn’t let him see me cry. Not in front of him.

“Do you think I’m here to babysit you?” Robert continued, his voice dripping with mockery. “I’m wasting my time and my salary on someone who can’t even do the simplest of tasks.”

His words hit me hard, each one digging into the already fragile walls of my self-esteem.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. He didn’t care what I had to say. Robert never cared.

“Where are the documents I asked for?” His voice was colder now, the irritation turning to pure disdain. “The ones for the Blackstone contract? I need them now.”

My heart skipped a beat. I had worked on them overnight, scrambling to get them ready in time, but they weren’t perfect. Not by Robert’s standards.

I fumbled through the papers on my desk, hands shaking as I tried to find the right folder. My fingers were clumsy, but I finally managed to grab it and push it towards him.

“Here, sir. I—I worked on them all night,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, praying it would be enough to satisfy him. My hands were clammy, the papers sticking to my fingers as I handed them over.

Robert didn’t even look at me as he snatched the file from my hands. He flipped through the documents, his eyes scanning each page with a cold, clinical detachment.

I waited, my breath caught in my throat, my nerves twisting like a knot.

He didn’t speak for a long time. But when he did, it was with the kind of venom that could melt steel.

“This is rubbish,” he said, his voice a low growl.

“This is what I get after all your whining and excuses? You’re telling me you’ve spent the whole night working on this? It looks like something a first-year student would hand in. You wasted your time going to university? You’d have been better off learning how to clean gutters instead of wasting years and money on a degree. This is absolute trash.”

He shoved the papers into the trash can with a flick of his wrist, as if they were nothing more than garbage.

“I’ve been paying you, what, for this? For nothing?” He sneered. “It’s pathetic. You’ve wasted my time and my money—again.” He glared at me like I was the one who had ruined his life.

I stood frozen, my heart sinking. The tears I’d been fighting so hard to hold back finally broke free, hot and painful, streaming down my face.

I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t.

“Please, sir,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I... I can fix it. I’ll redo it. Please don’t fire me.”

Robert’s face remained stone-cold, his expression hardening with each word I spoke.

“Fire you? You’ve already fired yourself,” he said, his words like a death sentence. “You’re a waste of space, Jane. I’m done with you. Clean out your desk. You’re fired.”