My Vicious Employees

[Mission failed. Affection points below threshold. Host permanently stranded in this world.] The System's voice scraped through my skull, cold and flat.

I was in the back of a chauffeured car, and I had to bite down hard to keep from laughing out loud.

I swallowed the joy clawing up my chest and reached for the System in my head. "System… System, are you still there? Don't leave me. I failed, I know I failed. Can I still go back?

Please. I don't want to stay here—" I was good.

Voice shaking, fingertips trembling, the perfect picture of a pathetic little Host who'd botched her mission and was terrified of being stuck.

I kept it up until the voice went quiet. Until there wasn't a single beep left. Until I was sure it was really gone, and gone for good. Then I couldn't hold it anymore.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, and the laughter spilled out through my fingers anyway. Low at first. Then harder, until I was bent over the seat. Until my eyes watered.

Until I was shaking with it.

What I didn't know, back then, was this: Five years later, the boy I tanked into the negatives, the boy I wanted out of my life so badly I never planned to see him again—he'd walk into my office in a tailored suit.

And that donation I signed with two careful words and thought I'd buried without a trace? He spent five years tracking it down. Chapter 1 Go back?

To what—being broke, plain, and forgettable? Hard pass. Who in their right mind wants to go back. Old world: orphan, broke, one bubble tea felt like a splurge. No family.

No friends. Here? Born at the top. A face that turns heads, parents who dote, more money than I could burn through in a lifetime.

The System had ordered me to make some quiet, dirtpoor scholarship kid fall for me. From day one, all I'd wanted was to fail. "Marcus, take me to my usual salon first.

The highend one." I watched the city slide by outside the window, glittering, and my mouth kept tugging up at the corners.

Inside the salon, the director came out to greet me himself. "What are we doing today, miss?" I tapped the counter with one finger and studied my own face in the mirror—still carrying traces of that edgy, tacky look. "Dye it back to natural black.

Smooth it out, cut it to the collarbone. Clean, bareface makeup, natural brows.

Everything loud, everything I used to wear—strip it all off." The trashypunk thing had been a costume. Something I'd built on purpose to torch the mission.

You have no idea what it's like to walk into school every day in bleached streaks, smoky eyes, a ripped crop top, and chunky combat boots, with every single person staring at you like you're a freak. "You got it." The car had barely stopped outside the mall before a sales associate hurried over, all deference. "Miss.

You're here." I gave a faint smile and let my eyes sweep the whole wall of new arrivals. "Every new piece that came in this season. Dresses, skirts, bags, shoes.

Anything in my size—wrap it all up." She blinked. Then, buzzing: "Of course, miss!

I'll get it ready right away!" I stepped into the VIP fitting room and tried them on, one after another. Couture dresses cinched at the waist. Delicate leather flats under my feet.

A brandnew bag hooked over my arm like an afterthought. The girl in the mirror had clear eyes and pale skin, and every designer stitch on her made her glow.

I turned a slow circle for the glass and couldn't help it—I laughed, soft and low. Laughed till my eyes crinkled. Laughed till my whole chest felt light.

The high wore off just enough for a thread of caution to slip in. No. Don't get sloppy.

The whole reason I'd transferred into that public high school in the first place was the System's mission—planting myself right in front of him, playing ugly, playing awful, doing everything to make him despise me, tanking his affection into the negatives so the whole thing would crash and burn.

The System was gone now. But what if—what if one day it flagged something off and came crawling back?

Chapter 2 "That's sixtyeight pieces total, miss," the associate said beside me, all polished. "Everything's already loaded into your car." I picked up the card and handed it over without so much as glancing at a price. "Run it." Beep.

That little chime of an approved swipe was better than any music in the world. No more playing mean. Playing cruel. Playing the girl everyone loved to hate.

What if the guy suddenly went blind one day and stopped hating my old delinquent act?

What if his affection ticked back up out of nowhere, and the System came and dragged me back into the mission—or worse, tossed me back into that plain, broke old world of mine?

I didn't even want to picture it. I couldn't take a single risk. He had to vanish from my life. Completely. The farther the better. Ideally I'd never lay eyes on him again.

I grabbed my phone and dialed the family's private academic advisor, fingers flying, my voice sweet and soft and perfectly calm. "Ms. Wexler.

I need you to process a transfer for me. Now. Today." "Yes, out of the public high school I'm at. No reason required. I'm just done being there." "I don't care which school.

As long as it's far from this one. Elite private academy, international track, boarding—any of it works." "Tomorrow.

I don't want to spend one more day there." The voice on the other end kept agreeing, not daring to question a thing.

Here, I was a rich girl who could move mountains with a single phone call. Not the nobody who used to count every dollar of tuition.

I hung up, sank into the soft leather seat, and let out a long breath, the corners of my mouth climbing again. Done. One transfer, and I'd be free of that scholarship boy for good.

Every last thread tying me to the mission—cut. The car glided into the gated estates. Wroughtiron gates swung slowly open. The fountain scattered light in the last of the sun.

And the second the car settled to a stop, the smile froze on my face. Under the lamppost at the front gate stood a lean boy in a faded, washedout school uniform. Callahan Shen.

The one I'd schemed and clawed to make hate me. The one whose affection I'd needed to bury so the mission would fail.

Chapter 3 My brain went to static, and it hit me all at once—the thing my giddy little victory lap had almost made me forget.

To fool the System, to look like I was actually working the mission, I'd once strongarmed him into my orbit under the excuse of hiring a tutor. Called it tutoring.

Really I spent the whole time needling him on purpose, doing everything I could to make him sick of me. Knocking over my water glass midexplanation.

Asking questions so stupid they hurt. Throwing littledelinquent tantrums right in his face. Saying the meanest, ugliest things I could think of.

Pulling every move that would make his skin crawl—so that just the sight of me would turn his stomach, so his affection would nosedive, so the mission would finally, fully fail.

The System had barely left. I could not afford one slip. What if he softened on me right now? What if the System jolted back to life?

What if his affection crept up for no reason at all? Every ounce of effort, every shot I had at staying in this world—gone. I couldn't risk a thing.

Marcus was already out of the car, coming around to open my door.

I dropped my voice, and it came out cold, nothing like my usual sweetgirl register. "Don't open it." I sat in the dark and watched the boy outside through the window.

His brow was slightly furrowed, his eyes distant—still wearing that look of pure loathing for me. Good.

I drew a breath, shoved the joy and the wariness back down, and pulled the loud, insufferable delinquent shell back on.

I'd stripped the smoky eyes and ditched the trashy clothes an hour ago, and I could still snap into the part better than anyone.

I pushed the door open, crossed my arms, and made my voice sharp and bored—not loud, but plenty loud enough for him to catch every word. "Who told you to come?

Bad tutoring, and you've still got the nerve to want paying?" In fairness, Shen taught well. I just never bothered to listen.

Made a convenient excuse now. "Don't bother coming back. You make me sick just looking at you." "Now get lost.

Quit cluttering up my doorstep." "Or what—you want to hang around like some stray dog?" Every word, cutting, ugly, landing right where it'd sting him worst. Shen looked up.

His voice was quiet, with a stiffness he probably didn't notice himself. "The sessions I was paid for up front—I haven't finished them yet." I kept my arms crossed, chin tipped up, my eyes all disgust and impatience, my voice cold and barbed. "You don't need to finish them." "The money?

That pittance is beneath me. Consider it a tip." "I already told you. Stop bothering me. You're bad luck just to look at." Shen froze where he stood.

He clearly hadn't expected me to be this heartless, this final. Under the lamppost, his fingertips curled tight.

His voice dropped a notch, caught on something he didn't seem to feel coming. "…Was it because I taught badly?" Something in my chest pulled tight.

I slapped that loud, cruel little sneer right back onto my face, arched a brow, went cold and hard, not an inch of mercy. "What else." He stood rigid under the light, his face gone pale from what I'd thrown at him, and still he lifted his eyes to me, stubborn, with a kind of almostdesperate earnestness. "Your grades are still weak.

I'm the only one who can help you." I let a cold, cruel contempt settle over my face and stared at him like he was garbage in my way, my voice rising, sharp and hard. "Shen.

Do you think a little too highly of yourself?" "Who exactly do you think you are?" I stepped forward, looking down at him, not bothering to hide a thing in my eyes.

Chapter 4 "So my grades are weak. So what? I could score a zero, never crack a book in my life, and I'd still inherit an empire without breaking a sweat. Set for life.

More money than I could ever spend." "I don't need your help. I definitely don't need your fake kindness." "Stop hounding me. And stop flattering yourself.

You make me sick just to look at." He didn't say another word. Just looked at me, long and hard. Then he turned and walked fast into the dark, gone.

Next morning I strolled toward school in a pair of brandnew leather flats, done up soft and sweet, all innocence.

Smooth black hair to the collarbone, clean makeup, the French dress I'd bought the day before.

Nothing like the loud, eyesearing delinquent from the night before—a different person entirely. I was only here to file the paperwork.

To sever the last thread between me and him, for good. But I'd barely rounded the corner of the classroom building when a burst of jeering and shoving stabbed into my ears.

I stopped short, looked up, and my heart shot into my throat.

A few of the guys who were always trailing after me had a small, thin girl backed into a corner, her books scattered across the floor, their voices loud and vicious. "You hear us?

Boss said broke trash like you stays away from her!" "Look at yourself. You think you're worthy of even talking to her?" "Pick your stuff up and get lost!

Quit cluttering up the place!" The girl pinned in the middle kept her head down, trembling, tears about to spill. My brain went "buzz," and it all clicked at once.

To max out Shen's loathing, I'd once staged a "bullying" scene in a spot where he could see—faking cruelty at this exact girl, faking the sneering taunts, all so he'd catch me at my worst, my most detestable, and his affection would crash straight through the floor.

And now there were actually people using my name to corner someone, to shove her around. I stood a little way off, and my face went cold. The girl was an orphan.

She and the guy only had each other. Sad, really. "What do you think you're doing." The second they saw me, the guys sidled over, grinning. "Boss!

We're teaching her a lesson for you!

You're the one who can't stand—" "Shut up." I cut them off, my eyes ice. "When did I ever tell you to touch her?" "My business—since when is it your place to stick your hands in?" "Get lost.

Now. Don't cause trouble for me here." They froze. One went white, another opened his mouth and shut it—then they scattered like I'd thrown a match.

That left just me and the girl they'd cornered. I didn't look at her. Didn't comfort her.

Just tossed out one flat line as I passed. "No one's going to bother you again." "Thank you," the girl mumbled.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught it— Under the plane tree, not far off, Shen stood perfectly still, having watched the whole thing, clear as day. My heart clenched hard.

No. Why is he here. Chapter 5