Sultan:Her Desired Man(18+)

Cold bloom~

Mishti

I stood frozen in the corridor, my body refusing to obey my mind. His voice poured into my ears like poison mixed with honey. He was murmuring something about waiting for hours in his cabin, about sending someone to call me, about how my delay had made him impatient enough to search for ne himself. His hand lingered at my cheek.

When I finally looked around, I noticed every single eye in the office was glued to us. Whispers, judgment, cruel smirks. I slapped his hand away as if it burned and dashed off before anyone could see my tears.

In the washroom, I collapsed against the wall, chest heaving, sobs spilling before I could stop them. I called Sam, desperate for his voice, but the line rang endlessly. I slid down to the cold tiles, realizing bitterly I couldn’t lean on anyone forever. Not even Sam. The man I once called husband was right there in front of me—looking worried, almost tender—when he was the same one who had once told me I was nothing but a pawn for his revenge, before shattering my life with divorce papers.

When I finally returned to my desk, face pale and eyes raw, a man approached stiffly.
“Boss is calling you.”

My knees wobbled.

Before I could move, another girl snapped at me cruelly, “Look, fatty, we don’t care what history you share with him. We only know he’s our boss, and he’s already terrifying enough. Don’t trigger him, or we’ll all be the ones losing our jobs because of you. So stop standing like a mannequin and just go!”

Every gaze around me was hostile. I swallowed hard and forced my feet to move.

I knocked softly. “May I come in, sir?”

He looked up from behind his desk. His eyes softened for only a second before returning to a mask of calm. “Yes.”

I stepped inside. My voice stammered. “You asked for me?”

“Sit.” His tone brooked no argument.

He slid a document across the table. “Correct this while I speak.”

I clutched the file like a shield, hiding my trembling face.

“I acted rashly earlier. But you need to hear me before anything. Before that divo —”

“Sorry, sir.” I shot to my feet, cutting him off. My voice shook but carried stubborn resolve. “I came here to work. I expect a professional environment. I don’t want anything to do with the past anymore.”

He froze, studying my words as if tasting them. Then slowly, his brows relaxed. He leaned back in his chair, rocking it casually.

“Fine,” he said at last. “I won’t cause you discomfort. But since you asked for professionalism, remember—professional rules apply to you too. Cold shoulders and resignations are not allowed.”

My heart thudded. “What do you mean?”

A slow smile curved his lips. “When you joined, you signed a contract. It binds you to five years of service. If you resign, you owe the company two million. Fail to pay within deadline, and you’ll be blacklisted. No one will hire you again.”

My fists tightened on my dress until my nails dug into my palms.

“And,” he added almost lazily, “I fired my previous PA. From today, you will be my personal assistant. So don’t make your boss upset, Mishti.”

---

That night,I curled into a ball on my bed, clinging to my teddy as if it could shield me. When I finally told Sam everything, he paced the room like a caged beast, his voice sharp with anger.