On the day of the reunion, there were a lot of people including teachers from every section. I was sitting with my friends, chatting and laughing as we shared our experiences and funny memories.

"Okay, now let's start the program. Welcome to the reunion of batch 2012–2013!" said the host.

"Let's begin with a game. Since all of you have graduated, go to the group with the same job."

Almost everyone in the venue stood up and moved to their respective groups, but my friends and I stayed seated. The host noticed and asked why we hadn’t joined any group. We just laughed and said, “We’re jobless.”

The host was shocked but tried not to show it. While everyone else was talking about their careers, we just sat and listened. Then, one of our old classmates who had transferred out arrived.

“Hey, how are you?” I asked her.

She didn’t get the chance to respond when another classmate rudely spoke up.

“Why are you here?”

I got angry and responded, “Because I invited her. Do you have a problem with that?”

That classmate started throwing offensive questions like, “Who supports you? Who gives you money even though you’re jobless?” I was furious.

I asked her, “Hey, what’s your job again, and what company do you work for?”

“My job is Software developer, and I work at XXXX company,” she replied proudly.

“Don’t do it,” my friend whispered, grabbing my hand.

“I’m not doing anything,” I whispered back with a smirk.

I walked out and called my assistant. “Jason, make Seraphine jobless. She works at XXXX company,” I said angrily.

“Copy, boss,” Jason replied, and the call ended.

Inside the venue, Seraphine received a phone call and told her friends, “It’s my boss. I need to take this maybe it’s good news.”

She stepped outside and answered the call. “Hello boss, do you have something to tell me?”

“You’re fired,” her boss said bluntly.

“Why, boss? I didn’t do anything wrong!” she asked, but the call had already ended.

She returned with mixed emotions and came to our table.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“What??” I replied.

“My boss just fired me. Now I’m jobless,” she said angrily.

“I had nothing to do with that. Didn’t I say earlier that I’m jobless?” I answered.

“But you were the only one who went outside before my boss called.”

“Are you accusing me of something I don’t even know? Am I not allowed to go outside and use the bathroom?”

“You’re lying! The bathroom is that way, but you went the opposite direction!”

“I know someone nearby. I went to their place to pee. I don’t like using public restrooms. You never know if they’re clean.”

“Argh!” she grunted angrily and stormed back to her table.

“Didn’t I tell you not to do it?” my friend asked.

“It’s just the start of my revenge,” I said.

“You’re overreacting. You have no reason to hate her.”

“You’re right,” I admitted.

After the reunion, everyone went home, but my friends and I had an after-party since it had been so long since we last saw each other.

The next morning, I had another idea and called my assistant.

“Jason, tell all the companies to take down their hiring flyers. Leave only our company’s hiring post.”

“Okay, boss.”

Meanwhile, Seraphine was in big trouble. She was jobless and every company she applied told her that the position was already filled. Only one company was still hiring—and after she submitted her resume, they emailed her for an interview.

She went to the interview and got hired quickly after just a few simple questions.

Monday came, the start of her new job. She entered the company and was amazed by its design. A worker assigned to tour her around had already arrived.

“Hello, Miss Seraphine. I’m Terish, and I’ll be giving you the company tour,” the woman said.

“Hi, Miss Terish,” Seraphine replied.

Terish gave her a tour and led her to her department and desk. After she sat down, the owner of the company arrived. All the employees stood up, and Seraphine followed.

She was shocked when she saw who it was... it was Quinn, her former classmate whom she argued with at the reunion.

Quinn walked up to her.

“Didn’t you say you were jobless?” Seraphine asked.

“Yes, I am. I don’t do anything here. I just sit in my office,” I replied with a wicked smile and walked away.

“You’re really a liar!” she shouted. “You fatty!”

I looked back, took off my tuxedo, and revealed my sando, which exposed my muscular body and abs. Everyone was shocked, but I didn’t care. I walked up to her.

“You’re bold to speak to me like that. I’ve changed my mind. I want you to be my assistant. Follow me to my office, now.”

Seraphine followed me into the office with reluctant steps. Her heels echoed against the marble floor as if mocking her pride with each tap. My office door closed behind her with a soft thud, sealing her in a place she never imagined being beneath me, quite literally and metaphorically.

I didn’t even offer her a seat. I walked to my chair, sat down, leaned back, and looked at her with the same coldness she once threw at me during the reunion.

“Sit,” I finally said, nodding toward the leather chair across from me.

She sat down stiffly, her chin slightly raised like she still had something to hold onto.

“Why me?” she asked quietly, folding her hands together. “Why do you want me to be your assistant?”

I smirked. “Because you need a lesson.”

Her brows furrowed. “A lesson?”

“Yes. You looked down on me. Laughed at me for being ‘jobless’ when I was simply smart enough not to show my hand early. Now, I want you to understand something, Life has its ways of turning the wheel.”

“So this is revenge,” she said bitterly.

“No,” I replied, standing up. “This is business. You’re capable. Intelligent. But arrogant. And here, I don’t need arrogance, I need loyalty and discipline. Consider this an opportunity... if you can swallow your pride long enough to take it.”

She looked down, her lips pressed together. There was a long silence before she whispered, “I don’t need your pity.”

I walked around the desk, standing directly in front of her. “This isn’t pity, Seraphine. This is power. And I’m giving you a piece of it. Don’t confuse generosity with weakness.”

Just then, Jason knocked and peeked through the door. “Boss, the investors are waiting in the conference room.”

I waved a hand. “Cancel the meeting. I have more important matters.”

Jason hesitated. “Are you sure, boss?”

I looked at Seraphine. “Yes. This is more important.”

Jason nodded, clearly confused, and left.

When the door shut again, Seraphine finally met my gaze. Her voice was softer now. “You’re serious about this?”

I nodded. “You’ll start at the bottom. You’ll handle my schedule, organize reports, respond to internal emails, take notes during meetings. I won’t treat you special. Mess up once, and you’re gone.”

She looked at me defiantly. “Fine. I’ll do it. But not for you. For me.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said, walking back behind my desk. “But let me be clear, this company wasn’t handed to me. I bled for it. Failed. Lost. Rebuilt. While others celebrated graduation, I was scraping coins to pay for internet cafés so I could learn to code.”

There was a flicker of guilt in her eyes, but she stayed silent.

I handed her a file. “Here’s your first assignment. Type up my project pitch notes and send them to the executive team. Do it before lunch.”

She nodded, taking the folder without a word.

Before she could leave, I added, “And Seraphine? Next time you call someone ‘jobless,’ make sure they’re not secretly the one signing your paycheck.”

Her eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite read... was it anger? Shame? Or... regret?

She turned and left the room without another word.

The hours passed, and I stayed in my office, pretending to read reports, but in truth, I kept glancing at the monitor displaying security footage from the hallway. Watching her sit at the assistant’s desk outside my door felt surreal. Just a day ago, she looked down on me like I was nothing. Now she was one wrong email away from being unemployed again.

But something about her wasn’t sitting right. She wasn’t as snobbish as she used to be. She looked... tired. Lost.

Just before lunch, I walked out.

She was typing, focused, but clearly frustrated.

“You’re pressing the wrong shortcut,” I said, leaning over.

“I know,” she snapped. “I haven’t done this in years.”

“Then you better catch up. Fast.”

She huffed but fixed her mistake. “Your notes are all over the place, by the way.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Criticizing your boss already? Bold of you.”

She looked up and smirked slightly. “You did say I need to learn fast.”

I chuckled quietly and turned away. “Bring it to me when it’s done.”

Around 5 PM, she knocked on my office door.

“Come in,” I said.

She handed over the typed summary. I flipped through it, and I’ll admit... it was impressively done. Clean. Structured. Slightly sassy in tone, but still professional.

“You’re a fast learner,” I said.

She looked surprised. “Was that... a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” I said. “But yes. You did well today.”

There was a long pause. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. I could tell she wanted to ask something.

“Spit it out,” I said.

“Why... why didn’t you humiliate me?” she finally asked. “You could’ve fired me. Mocked me in front of the staff. But you didn’t.”

I looked at her, suddenly serious. “Because if I humiliate you, I’m no better than the person you used to be. I want you to grow, Seraphine — not rot.”

Her eyes softened just for a second, but the wall quickly went back up.

“I still don’t like you,” she said.

“Good,” I said with a smirk. “This would be boring if you did.”

She rolled her eyes and walked away.

But as she left, I saw something in her step. Not arrogance anymore. Not even defiance.

It was curiosity.

And maybe... just maybe... a flicker of something that scared us both.

The first week was a cold war.

Seraphine came to work every day in perfectly tailored clothes, makeup flawless, hair always in place. She held her head high and barely spoke to anyone unless necessary. Her pride was intact but I could see the cracks. The long hours, the endless lists of tasks, the late nights… she was pushing through with pure grit.

She was determined not to let me win.

I respected that more than I cared to admit.

One morning, I arrived early and found her already there, seated at her desk outside my office, typing furiously on her laptop. She looked up when I walked past.

"You’re early," she said flatly.

"So are you," I replied.

She shrugged. "I wanted to get ahead."

No sarcasm. No venom. Just quiet focus.

Progress.

That Friday, everything changed.

We had a high-stakes investor meeting at 10 a.m., and I was running late from a inspection. I burst into the boardroom, expecting chaos, slides unprepared, papers misplaced, but everything was perfect.

The presentation was ready. Files printed, labeled, and arranged. Coffee was hot on the table. The team was calm, prepared, even confident.

I spotted her in the corner of the room, half-hidden behind a curtain. Watching. Assessing.

After the meeting, I approached her while the others were celebrating.

"You handled that well," I said, folding my arms. "You saved the meeting."

Seraphine looked at me, surprised, then looked away. “Just doing my job.”

“Still. You didn’t have to go that far.”

She hesitated, then muttered, “Well... I did. Because if I mess this up, it reflects on you. And I don’t want people thinking I’m here because of pity.”

That surprised me. It was the first time she acknowledged what people had been whispering behind her back since the day she started.

“You’re not here because of pity,” I said quietly. “You’re here because you’re good. Whether you like me or not.”

She blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, it felt like the old battle lines blurred.

Later that day, a thunderstorm rolled in. Rain pounded against the windows, flooding the streets. Jason entered my office looking apologetic.

“Boss, the driver called. He can’t reach us. Roads are blocked. Miss Seraphine might have to wait it out here.”

I stood, already grabbing my coat. “She’ll come with me.”

A few minutes later, she stood by the elevator, arms crossed. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. I want to,” I replied, stepping in beside her.

The car ride was silent at first. The only sound was the rain beating on the roof and the faint hum of the engine. Seraphine stared out the window, the city lights reflecting off her tired eyes.

Then she said, almost in a whisper, “You really built this company from nothing?”

“Yes,” I replied, hands gripping the wheel. “Started in my parents’ garage. Everyone thought I was crazy. Including you.”

“I thought you were arrogant,” she admitted.

I smirked. “Still do?”

She glanced at me and, to my surprise, laughed softly. “Maybe a little less.”

We arrived at her apartment. She hesitated before opening the door.

“Thank you... Quinn.”

The way she said my name... it didn’t sound like an insult for once.

“You’re welcome, Seraphine.”

Monday came, and a small white mug sat on my desk. It was filled with black coffee... my favorite. A sticky note was attached:

“Your 9 AM meeting’s moved to 9:30. You’re welcome. Don’t say I never did anything nice.” —S.

I picked it up, half-smiling.

When she came in with the daily schedule, I nodded toward the mug.

“Trying to poison me?”

“Tempting,” she replied. “But that would ruin my resume.”

Her tone was lighter. Sarcastic, but playful.

It became a new normal, quiet cooperation, subtle banter, small acts of thoughtfulness neither of us would openly admit.

One late evening, while preparing reports together, she let out a deep sigh and slumped in the chair across from mine.

“You ever feel like you’re running in circles?” she asked.

“All the time,” I answered honestly.

“I thought I had everything figured out,” she continued. “The career. The connections. But it all collapsed. And now I’m here… doing assistant work in an office I used to laugh at.”

“You’re not just doing assistant work,” I said. “You’re fixing what others mess up. You’re saving meetings. You’re making coffee.”

She smiled. “The coffee’s a bonus.”

I chuckled. “Barely.”

She leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. “Maybe this is karma.”

I looked at her, really looked, and for the first time saw someone not proud or arrogant—but tired, bruised, trying to find her place again.

“It’s not karma,” I said. “It’s just life. And sometimes, it forces us to start over.”

Her eyes met mine. “You sound like someone who’s had to start over a lot.”

“I have,” I said. “More than once.”

By the end of the week, the office buzzed with rumors.

Jason smirked every time Seraphine entered my office. Mia, from HR, kept giving us suspicious looks. Even the janitor raised an eyebrow.

But I didn’t care.

Something was happening between us. Slowly. Quietly.

Not romance. Not yet.

But trust.

And that was more dangerous than anything.