The Domineering CEO's Secretary is Quitting

As the CEO's Secretary, I stood outside the Meeting Room with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in hand.

The man's mocking voice was so loud it penetrated the soundproof door.

He spoke at a rapid pace, enunciating each word clearly.

"What on earth are you all doing? To be honest, did you write this plan with your feet?"

"Take it to the roadside, even passing grandmothers would call it trash! Total trash!"

"And this Project ProposalI read twenty pages and still have no idea what you're trying to say. Can you articulate the main point? With your organizational skills, if I went to a funeral, I wouldn't even know who died!"

"A bunch of proteinrich fools acting like nervous wrecks! You handed me a pile of crap, confident enough not to even wipe before presenting it!"

"Did you leave your brains behind when evolution took place in Nature? Can you put some thought into this? Did I hire you to make me angry or to get things done?"

Inside the Meeting Room, everyone lowered their heads, tucking in like turtles, not daring to make a sound.

Hearing this, I wisely turned and walked away with the coffee.

The Boss was furious, and only if I were Tired of Living would I walk straight into the line of fire.

He could go without one coffee.

But I couldn't endure another round of scolding.

I excused myself to the bathroom.

By the time I returned, the Meeting Room was empty.

I knew the crisis had temporarily passed.

So I made another cup of coffee and headed towards the CEO's office.

The door was halfopen.

Someone had gotten there before me.

Tracy, the Secretary Assistant who got in through connections in the Finance Department.

She wore a tightfitting pencil skirt, tencentimeter redbottomed high heels, and her makeup was exquisitely done.

With a sweet, highpitched voice, she said:

"Mr Kendrick, your coffee."

She bent over, ready to place the coffee on the table.

The man sat at his desk, tall and slender, with strikingly handsome features and deepset eyes.

He possessed a natural elegance and nobility.

However, at this moment,

his eyes were overly cold.

"Who are you?"

"Who let you in?"

"Is this your job?"

"Leave."

The smile on her face froze.

"Mr Kendrick, II'm the new Secretary Assistant, Tracy."

"Emma is busy, she asked me to bring this over."

?

As the person himself, how could I not know that?

The man didn't even lift his head, continuing to review the documents.

"Leave, don't make me say it a second time."

Tracy took a deep breath.

The next second, her feet seemed unsteady, as if she had growths, and she nearly spilled the coffee forward.

The man remained motionless, his voice cold and deep.

"Think twice before you spill it. This suit costs two hundred thousand dollarscan you afford to replace it?"

...

She wobbled but finally managed to keep her balance.

The man looked at her, sizing her up from head to toe.

He scoffed and said:

"Dressed like that, what job are you even doing? Do you want the police to come for me that badly?"

"I don't even know why HR hired you; you don't even serve an aesthetic function. Trying to take Ms. Wendel's place? You're not as pretty as she is, and your skills don't measure up to a tenth of hers."

I couldn't help but curl my lips into a smile.

After all the insults, the jerk of a Boss finally acknowledged something good about me.

However, my joy was premature.

He added:

"Of course, I'm not praising her nor insulting you. I'm just stating a fact, like how Ms. Wendel dresses like she's from my grandma's era."

...

The smile on Tracy's face was barely holding.

"Or is it the Boss's wife's position you're eyeing?"

His tone was blatantly mocking.

"People shouldn't chase after things that aren't theirs. Instead of clinging to impractical dreams of overnight success, it's better to improve yourself. I suggest you check if you have Parkinson's or epilepsy first."

"..."

This was something I should have seen coming.

Christian's biting tongue isn't anything new.

She left, sobbing with her coffee in hand.

As she passed the doorway, she didn't forget to glare at me.

??

The next moment, a man's indifferent voice sounded.

"Ms. Wendel, how long do you plan to stand by the door? Moonlighting as security?"

I sighed and stepped inside.

This is truly a calamity no one could foresee.

He slowly adjusted his goldrimmed glasses.

His long fingers lightly tapped on the table.

Just look at that demeanor.

Here we go, about to get a scolding.

"Ms. Wendel, I didn't offer you a sevenfigure salary for you to watch the drama unfold. I expect you to be like a utility pole, always aware of your position."

"Have some awareness of danger. With my high status now, if someone poisons me, you'll be the one doing time."

For the sake of the salary.

I endure.

"Show more insight. If your nearsightedness is severe, the company can pay for surgery. I don't want dubious people trying to get close to me again."

He knows I'm wearing plain lenses.

Might as well just call me blind.

"And Ms. Wendel, do you never look in the mirror? Dressing so tackily, you seriously damage the company's image. If you scare away the clients, who'll cover my losses?"

I let out a dry chuckle.

"Your laugh is hideous, you'd be better off not laughing at all."

Christian.

FXXX U!

Your sarcasm is becoming unbearable.

If it weren't for the generous pay, I would've quit long ago.

Is this even called a salary?

It's clearly mental damage compensation.

2

I walked out of the office.

Tracy was packing her stuff, holding onto a big box.

She got fired.

Even the finance department got a scolding from the Boss.

She stomped her high heels loudly.

She looked at me, eyes full of malice:

"He doesn't fancy me, and he definitely won't fancy you. Don't think I can't see your schemes. Who knows how you got your position; you're not even worthy of holding his shoes."

I smiled slightly, shedding my usual meekness in front of the Boss.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I graduated with a master's from Yale, and got this job on my own merits."

"True, it hardly compares to those who get in through connections from Miss Cooper Community College."

Causing me trouble as usual is one thing, but today, not only did you get me scolded, you also tried to throw dirt on my name.

Do you really think I'm so weak that anyone can bully me?

Not spending a single cent and still dreaming of scolding me, that's wishful thinking.

"You..."

Using my height advantage, I leaned in closer.

"Climbing the social ladder through men? That's hard to say, as I have no experience. Every profession is worlds apart; I wish you luck."

"Enjoy your resignation, Miss Cooper."

Can't outargue, can't outfight.

What to do?

She could only glare helplessly, holding back her frustration.

A sigh of pentup anger finally dissipated considerably.

Further on, the world is wide and open; endure for a moment, or else you'll end up with nothing but restless days.

Indeed, it does not deceive me.

Afternoon.

Loosening the soil and watering the plants for the Boss.

Holding the small trowel, I dug with more and more enthusiasm.

There was no one in the office.

An old habit resurfaced.

Couldn't help but hum a tune.

"In the Big Company, digging and digging away. Digging out thick wages, yet still not enough to spend. Getting yelled at by the particularly annoying Boss."

Suddenly, a sigh came from behind me.

Christian leaned lazily against the door frame, his presence unnoticed until now.

A faint smirk curved his lips, a look somewhere between amusement and disdain.

"Singing so well, Ms. Wendel, are you looking to get yourself killed?"

"..."

As someone notoriously offkey, having my singing overheard was beyond embarrassing.

My face flushed bright red in an instant.

"Thinking about becoming a singer? If you are, I'm reporting you to the authorities."

"..."

Christian, FXXX U.

3

The day before the May Day Holiday.

Christian had just returned from his business trip.

Driver James happened to be on vacation, so the Boss assigned me to pick him up at the hotel entrance.

Due to the crowd, I spent quite a while searching but couldn't find him.

So I called him.

"Boss, where are you?"

The voice on the other end was cold and low.

"Across from you."

Puzzled, I drove a bit further ahead.

"I can't see it. Maybe you should wave your hand, Boss?"

His voice sounded like it was squeezed through clenched teeth.

"Ms. Wendel, I've been waving my hand so much it's about to fall off, and I've already stopped a dozen taxis."

My heart skipped a beat.

"No, I really didn't see it."

He let out a cold laugh:

"You drove past it."

"..."

When he got into the car, I smiled awkwardly, trying to cover my embarrassment.

Christian sat in the passenger seat, legs crossed.

He gave me a meaningful glance.

"You've got two eggs in your eye sockets, all they do is blink but don't see."

"..."

I wanted to silence him with poison, not kidding.

He spoke again:

"Pack up tonight, you're going on a business trip with me tomorrow."

What?

I almost lost grip of the steering wheel.

I thought he had forgotten the time.

"Boss, tomorrow is Thanksgiving, it's a holiday."

He naturally joined the conversation.

"I know."

You've got to be kidding me.

Tomorrow the handsome guy is taking me out to dinner.

I'm the kind of person who loves money and also beauty.

That brownskinned Latin hunk keeps calling me Señorita, how could I stand him up?

I made a desperate plea:

"Boss, can I not go?"

He gave me a look, gently yet ruthlessly speaking just a few words.

"No, unless you don't want the job."

Revenge, this is definitely revenge.

What a petty, silly fool.

I sped up the car in anger.

All the way, I kept wanting to speak to him but held my tongue, pretending not to see him.

We arrived at the company entrance.

He hesitated to get out of the car.

His brows were furrowed, his face shifting between pale and green.

"..."

Oh no, I forgot the Boss gets carsick.

He spoke harshly:

"Ms. Wendel, during a fifteenminute drive, you overtook ten times, cut off eight cars, and swore six times. Do you have road rage?"

"If not for yourself, think of others. Riding in your passenger seat is a lifethreatening experience. I suggest you stop driving."

"..."

I suggest you keep your mouth shut.

Arriving at the office, I organized the documents for tomorrow's business trip.

The handsome guy sent me a message.

He asked what time I would leave tomorrow so he could pick me up.

I replied guiltily:

"It's okay, I have a lastminute business trip. Let's reschedule another day, sorry about that."

There was a pause before he gladly accepted:

"No worries, I'll wait until you're free. Have a safe business trip, safe travels."

He's so sweet and considerate, I could cry.

Looking at the documents in front of me, the more I organized, the angrier I got.

The Boss wasn't around.

I simply picked up my phone and went on a video rant.

I listed every single item in the office.

From the umbrella the Boss uses, the bowl he eats from, to the Italian handcrafted carpet underfoot.

From the leather sofa beneath him to the toothbrush he used in the restroom.

Caption:

"Sell them all after work, and then use the money to book eighteen male Gigolos."

After filming, it was posted on Tik Tok.

Later that night before sleeping, I habitually opened it to take a look.

Notifications 99+.

Unexpectedly, the video went viral.

Top comment:

"Are you crazy? Why not just sell me too? Is there something you're hesitating about?"

That familiar tone made my heart skip a beat.

The comment section was full of jokes:

"Welcome to the Crash Scene."

"Hahaha, it's the first time I've seen someone get caught by the Boss while playing a meme."

"Author: Tomorrow I'll get fired for stepping with the left foot first."

"Boss: Is this office yours so you can sell it?"

"Boss: You better Keep Watch with one eye tonight."

"See how much the Boss cares about you, asking if you're crazy."

"You're really a Talent, added you as a friend, decline it if you can."

"Who sells even a secondhand toothbrush? Don't be too Outrageous."

"The toothbrush bristles are prickly, I suggest just giving it to me."

I glanced at my Nickname:

"My Boss is a Big Idiot"

Suddenly, I had a bad feeling.

No way, it couldn't be that much of a coincidence.

I remember the Boss doesn't use this app.

I clicked into the profile of the top comment in trending, but there was nothing there.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

However, the next moment.

A message arrived from my phone contacts.

Boss: 'Ms. Wendel, please explain your nickname at work tomorrow.'

Me: '...'

You might as well have me explain why I didn't sell you out too.

At least then I could confidently say I really did sell you out.

4

The urgent matter at hand, I had to think.

Which foot should I step in with tomorrow to have a smaller chance of being fired?

As you can see, my Boss is quite outspoken.

So much so, that even a passing dog would get scolded.

As CEO of Kendrick Family Group Corporation, and Sole Heir of the Kendrick Family.

Besides being goodlooking, having a good physique, and being born into the right family, he has no other virtues.

The media summed him up in eight words:

'A Business Rogue, impossible to defend against.'

Everyone else's business wars: ruthless and lawless.

Christian's business wars: shameless and uncultured.

Carruth Group Corporation's employee messed up, offended customers and hit the trending list.

Kendrick Group got a huge advantage.

Christian used the official account to make three posts, hitting someone when they're down.

Not to mention offering timely assistance, it certainly adds insult to injury:

"What's going on, Mr. Carruth? Aren't customers supposed to be treated like gods?"

"Oh, thanks for the traffic, Mr. Carruth, you're as generous as the Virgin Mary."

"Seeing half the netizens scolding makes me sad. What about the other half? No keyboards?"

Mr. Carruth was so enraged he directly blocked him.

Conclusion: not illegal but lowly.

Being able to become his Secretary, it's probably because we're of the same ilk.

My morality is subjective and proactive.

His salary, however, follows an objective pattern.

Properly leveraging subjective initiative must be based on adhering to objective patterns.

I simply can't refuse money for the sake of morality, can I?

Simply put, it's still the same phrase:

He offers way too much.

This might test a saint, but not me.

So the two of us teamed up, which is almost like letting the dogs out.

He's known not only for his looks but also for his sharp tongue and vengefulness.

Previously, the rival Neville Family deliberately lowered their prices, forcibly snatching opportunities from the Kendrick Family.

Later, both families simultaneously bid for the West City Land.

Because the two company buildings faced each other directly.

Following a suggestion from a Chinese Psychic, Christian bought a large mirror to reflect the building opposite daily.

When asked, he'd say it was for checking his reflection.

After a month of this, he realized that the effect of financially damaging the rivals wasn't significant.

So I pretended to be a cleaner, snuck into Neville Company, and used hot water to kill Mr Neville Sr's Money Tree Plant.

It's said that the superstitious Mr Neville Sr cried like a child that day.

The next day, Mr Neville Sr invited clients for dinner.

Under Christian's cover, I slipped into the kitchen and changed the menu to Canned Herring.

Successfully ruining the collaboration.

With no choice, Mr Neville Sr had to head home.

Mr Neville Sr, being an elder, paid attention to health and exercised by riding his bicycle.

I deflated his bike tire before he knew it.

Right after, Christian, without breaking a sweat, drove by pretending it was a coincidence and kindly offered Mr Neville Sr a ride home.

This left Mr Neville Sr feeling conflicted.

He couldn't scold him, nor could he thank him.

He was wondering what kind of game he was playing.

Once home, he was scolded by his wife because there was a lipstick mark on his shirt hem.

Mr Neville Sr realized just how deep his regret went, but there was no way to express it.

In business and romance, he failed time and again.

Having hassled Mr Neville Sr enough, Christian then turned his attention to his son.

Mr. Neville Jr. hadn't even graduated college yet and showed no interest in the family's business.

He was forced to clock in at the company every day.

During work hours, he either played games or watched TV.

Christian bribed the Secretary in Mr. Neville Jr.'s office.

If he watched TV, she would disconnect his router.

If he played games, she would swipe his charger.

In less than two weeks, Mr. Neville Jr. not only got scolded harshly by his teammates but also lost three game rank tiers.

One would think he'd notice something was up, but instead, he confidently went to his dad.

"I've told you the Feng shui in this place is terrible; you can't even keep a plant alive, but you just wouldn't listen."

Consequently, he confidently booked a private room at an internet café to play games.

So I logically arranged for a beautiful woman to join him.

Then Christian naturally called Mr Neville Sr to complain, saying his son was going down the wrong path.

Mr. Neville Jr. returned home that night, seriously reprimanded by both parents, and cried just as pitifully before Mr Kendrick Sr the next day.

Under such physical distractions, the Kendrick Group secured the bid.

Christian stood at the company's entrance, playing 'Good Luck Man' on repeat through speakers.

As his dedicated Secretary.

With just one look from him, I knew exactly what he wanted to do.

Quietly pulling out a banner:

"Kendrick stands tall, Neville's status is at risk."

The bold lyrics matched with the red backdrop.

Mr Neville Sr was so outraged, his nose was bent out of shape.

Pointing at Christian, he cursed:

"Hey, you little rascal, I even held you when you were a kid, such a wicked mind!"

Christian raised an eyebrow, speaking in a solemn tone.

"Uncle Neville, kind words foster good relationships, hurtful words wound the heart. Next time, avoid saying things that are harmful to unity."

"..."

Thinking positively, I'm currently Christian's most efficient Secretary, he won't find anyone more deviousno, I mean more talented than me.

Thinking negatively, I've been playing the fool under him for six months, agreeing to everything he says, only for it all to fall apart today.

If it were just this incident, it would be fine, but the key is we were like water and fire in high school, and I sabotaged him during the college entrance exams.

Back then, I never thought that six years later, I'd be working as a Secretary for my archenemy.

After graduating with a master's degree, I landed a decent job in a big company.

But the department manager harassed me, and in a fit