The next day at the office, I started with my usual routine — checking files, arranging the boss's schedule, planning meetings, and tackling the endless list of tasks that came with being his secretary.
We had already decided that today, during the lunch break, we would confront him.
I was in the middle of reviewing some reports when the office phone rang. Thinking it was probably another brand deal, I answered casually — only to freeze when I heard the voice on the other end.
"Hi, this is Mr. Vincent's personal assistant speaking. I would like to inform you that…"
It was none other than the personal assistant of Mr. Vincent, the boss's father-in-law.
She informed me that Mr. Vincent would be visiting the company today — likely around 4 or 5 p.m.
Perfect. Exactly during lunch break.
I calmly replied, "Sure, the boss will be completely free around that time," and hung up.
As a good secretary, it was technically my job to inform the boss immediately.
But why would I do that?
This was literally a golden opportunity for our plan.
If Mr. Vincent were to witness the affair with his own eyes, we wouldn't even need to lift a finger.
So I zipped my lips and kept it to myself.
Mr. Vincent has always been a powerful and strict man — not just because he's a billionaire, but because of his values.
After his daughter married our boss, Mr. Vincent had moved to England for business expansion.
What was supposed to be a one- or two-year stay turned into ten full years.
Back when Mr. Vincent was around, he had personally hired spies to keep a close watch on his son-in-law.
One of our older coworkers once told me that the boss used to be extremely polite, honest, and hardworking.
He avoided even making eye contact with female employees and all his previous secretaries were male.
But once Mr. Vincent left for England and the boss realized he wouldn't be back any time soon — everything changed.
He started cutting salaries, committing fraud behind the scenes, hiring only female staff (including me), and shamelessly flirting around the office.
He turned into a complete jerk.
And honestly, I feel terrible for his wife.
She could've had anyone with her father's name and power, but she chose him — begged for him, fought her family just to marry him... only to be betrayed like this?
Let's just hope Mr. Vincent catches him red-handed.
Because this time, karma might just walk in through the front door.
It was almost lunchtime — and just about time for Mr. Vincent to arrive. I stood up from my seat and walked toward the lift, heading straight to the entrance door. I needed to be there before anyone else, especially before the boss found out. If he knew his father-in-law was coming, our entire plan would go straight down the drain.
Just then, the bell rang, signaling lunch break. Perfect timing. Everyone started leaving the floor — no one left behind to accidentally tip him off. Now, it was just me, Mira, and Ana, standing near the entrance, waiting for Mr. Vincent.
Just then, four sleek black cars pulled up in front of our company. My jaw, Mira's, and Ana's? All on the floor. The guard immediately stood to attention—he probably recognized them as Mr. Vincent 's vehicles.
We were still recovering from the shock when a wave of tall, handsome, well-built men stepped out. All dressed in black suits with crisp white shirts and red ties, straight out of some high-end mafia movie. One of them held an umbrella, another opened the car door, and the rest stood in a straight line, forming a path like a royal welcome.
Then, the man himself stepped out.
A striking man—broad shoulders, sharp beard and mustache, and hair tied neatly in a small ponytail. You could tell from the silver strands that he was older, but his build said otherwise. I had to mentally smack myself—nope, not simping over someone my grandpa's age.
As he approached the entrance, the guard saluted and opened the door. We didn't even move—we were frozen, already feeling chills shoot down our spines.
As he entered, his eyes landed directly on us. That death stare made it clear we weren't supposed to be standing there. Without saying a word, he started walking toward us—his bodyguards and assistant trailing closely behind like shadows. He stopped right in front of us and asked, "Who are you?"
Oh God. His voice was so deep, it practically gave me goosebumps on the inside.
I hesitated for a second before stammering, "I-I'm Mr. Liam's secretary, and these two are from the marketing department."
He continued to glare, clearly not amused, so I quickly added, "Let me guide you to the boss's office."
His assistant gave a small nod, and we all started walking toward the elevator. The whole way there, I was just praying that he'd catch the boss red-handed. That was the plan, after all.
But as soon as we stepped out of the lift… the hallway was empty.
Panic hit me like a truck.
Does this mean the boss already knows he's coming? Did someone warn him? Oh crap, I'm dead. What will I even say when he asks why I didn't inform him? I was already preparing my excuses in my head when we reached the office.
Without thinking twice, I swung the door open wide—no knocking. I mean, Mr. Vincent doesn't need permission to enter his own son-in-law's office.
I turned around to let everyone in… and that's when I saw it.
The thing I had already given up hope on.
And not just me—everyone behind me saw it too, crystal clear through the wide-open doorway.
It was my boss—leaning back in his chair, shirtless. Thankfully, he was still wearing his pants. But right on top of him was his intern, her shoulder straps sliding off, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. The moment I registered the scene, I snapped my gaze over to Mr. Vincent—his eyes were burning.
My boss, now realizing he'd been caught, shoved the intern off and scrambled to button up his shirt. She quickly adjusted her dress in panic. He knew. He absolutely knew he was done for.
I expected Mr. Vincent to lose it—maybe order his bodyguards to beat the life out of him, maybe take back the company, maybe even have him divorced on the spot. But what he did next… I couldn't have predicted even in my wildest dreams.
All three of us stood frozen, watching in terror. My mind went completely blank. I glanced at the bodyguards—but they stood there like this was all just a normal day. How could they?
Trigger Warning: The following paragraph contains gun violence. Please proceed with caution.
"He murdered him on the spot."
As Mr. Vincent stormed toward the desk, my boss was already trembling with fear. But before anyone could process what was happening, Mr. Vincent reached into his coat and, without hesitation, pulled out a gun.
We were still frozen—minds racing, unable to believe what we were seeing—when the deafening sound of a gunshot shattered the silence.
It was over.
His body collapsed to the floor, lifeless. Blood slowly pooling beneath him.
And from the look in Mr. Vincent's eyes, it was clear—he had been waiting for this moment for years.