All Chapters of The Boss Who Saved Me From My Stalker Ex: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

POV: EvelynThe mirror didn’t lie, but it didn’t tell the whole truth either.I smoothed the front of my bone-white silk blouse, tucking it firmly into a black pencil skirt that hugged my frame. I looked professional. I looked put-together. I looked like a woman who hadn't spent the last month picking up the shattered pieces of her life.I ran a brush through my waves one last time, letting them settle over my shoulders.Breathe.My heart was doing that frantic, uneven thrumming again. I pressed a palm to my chest, trying to anchor myself. Once I was sure my mask wouldn't slip, I grabbed my clutch and walked into the living room.Shae was already there, her eyes glued to her phone. She looked up the second she heard my heels click against the floor, her expression softening into a supportive smile."Ready to do this?" she asked, standing up."As ready as I'll ever be," I murmured.We stepped out into the humid Miami air. Shae locked the door with practiced efficiency while her thumb s

POV: EvelynI sank into the plush velvet of the sofa, letting the silence of the room wrap around me like a shroud. I took a long, steadying breath.On the other end of the line, Sophie’s voice was a jagged edge of impatience. She was waiting for an answer, her tone buzzing with that frantic energy she always carried when gossip was on the line.I knitted my brows, trying to untangle the mess of her words. My mind drifted back to the chaos at JFK yesterday—the way the world seemed to tilt on its axis right in front of the boarding gate."Which guy, Sophie?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.I heard the rustle of fabric as Sophie shifted. I could almost see her leaning in, pressing the phone tighter to her ear to ensure no one in the office overheard."Archer came by my desk this morning," she started, her voice dropping an octave. "Evelyn, he looked like hell. Disheveled, twitchy, like he hadn't slept in forty-eight hours."She paus

POV: Evelyn ReeveJovan stepped out of Damian’s office first, his stride confident and rhythmic. I followed a half-step behind, my heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor of the Veridian Atrium.I paused for a second, catching my reflection in a glass partition. I smoothed the lapels of my blazer and tucked a loose strand of my wavy brown hair behind my ear.My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, but I forced my breath to slow. I had to look like I belonged here.Jovan glanced back over his shoulder. It wasn't a look of impatience, but more of a silent check to ensure I hadn't drifted away in the sea of corporate efficiency.He led me toward a massive open-plan area. The space was a masterpiece of modern design—light oak desks, ergonomic chairs, and the soft, white-noise hum of high-end keyboards and hushed executive chatter.We stopped at a cluster of desks near a floor-to-ceiling window that looked

POV: Evelyn ReeveMiami was finally starting to feel real. The morning sun, slicing through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Meridian Miami Building, no longer felt like a hostile glare. I’d even memorized the drive from Shae’s place—the specific rhythm of the Atlantic coast breeze and the way the palm trees blurred against the glass.One week.It had gone by in a blur of spreadsheets and high-speed corporate jargon. I’d settled into my role as Jovan’s Executive Assistant with a desperate kind of focus, letting the data entry drown out the noise in my head.I was fast. My fingers flew over the mechanical keyboard, a rhythmic clicking that felt like the only thing keeping me anchored.Maya was the catalyst for that. She was a whirlwind of energy, always leaning over my shoulder with "pro-tips" on how to bypass the company’s ancient filing software. She made the transition feel like a game rather than a survival tactic.Then there was Stell

POV: Evelyn ReeveThe white porcelain plates, once loaded with Miami’s finest fusion cuisine, had been whisked away by the server. My table felt strangely vast now, occupied only by three glasses of fruit juice that glowed like neon signs against the dark wood.I leaned back, pressing the cold condensation of my orange juice against my palm. It was a rare moment of peace. I pulled my phone from my bag, my thumb aimlessly scrolling through Instagram, letting the salt-tinged breeze of South Beach wash over me.Everything about this bistro was perfect. The rhythm of the city felt distant here.Then, the air changed.Maya, sitting directly across from me, suddenly stiffened. Her eyes widened, sparkling with a brand of mischief I’d learned to fear in the short time I’d known her.She nudged Stella’s arm hard enough to make the other girl lurch. Stella, who had been busy adjusting her glasses, nearly lost them. Maya didn't