Five years ago, a wealthy heiress hired me to test her fiancé, Liam Gallagher. She wanted to see if he could resist temptation.
For a million dollars, I agreed.
That night became my everlasting humiliation.
Five years later, I started a new job. The nameplate on my direct superior’s office door glaringly read: “Liam Gallagher.”
He looked up, his gaze falling on me, utterly calm.
“The new intern, Sarah Miller? From today, you report to me.”
My knuckles turned white as I clutched my resume.
Five years.
I thought I’d never see him again in this lifetime.
But here he was, sitting across from me, my direct superior, holding the power over my three-month internship.
He had changed, yet somehow hadn’t.
His eyes still held that cool detachment I remembered, but the youthful awkwardness was gone.
His features were sharper, and the aura around him had deepened, becoming more commanding.
He looked at me as if I were a complete stranger.
Which was probably for the best.
I swallowed the storm raging inside me, respectfully lowering my head.
“Yes, Director Gallagher.”
He didn’t say another word, waving me out.
The moment I turned, his voice, devoid of warmth, reached me from behind.
“Double-check the data in this market report. I want it on my desk by the end of the day.”
My heart sank as I took the report, thick as a brick.
One afternoon to verify such a report? It felt like an impossible task.
A colleague passing by patted my shoulder sympathetically.
“First day, and Director Gallagher’s already giving the new intern a hard time? He’s the company’s notorious tyrant. Good luck.”
I could only manage a smile that felt more like a grimace.
Yes, the tyrant.
I knew him better than any of them.
To finish the task Liam had assigned, I even skipped dinner.
I watched as everyone else gradually left the office, until it was just me and the figure in the director’s office.
At nine that night, I finally finished checking all the data, found three subtle errors, and reorganized them into a new report.
I knocked on his office door.
“Director Gallagher, the report is verified.”
He grunted, his eyes still glued to the computer screen.
“Just leave it.”
I stood rooted to the spot, not moving.
He finally looked up from his work, his eyes behind the lenses holding a flicker of impatience.
“Something else?”
“There were three data errors in the report, I’ve already…”
“I know.” He cut me off, his voice flat.
“I left them there intentionally.”
My mind went blank.
“You…”
“Wanted to see if you had basic professional diligence.”
He stood up, walked over to me, took the report from my hand, and casually flipped through it.
“It’s decent work, just a little slow.”
He was a head taller than me, his shadow completely enveloping me.
I caught the clean, woody scent of him, exactly the same as that night five years ago.
My stomach twisted.
“If that’s all, you can go home.”
He dismissed me.
I clenched my fists, turned on my heel, and left without a word.
As I reached the door, his voice came again from behind.
“Sarah.”
I paused.
“Tomorrow morning, bring me a black Americano, no sugar.”
It was a command, not a request.
My back stiffened, rigid as a board.
Five years ago, Victoria’s file on him clearly stated:
Liam had low blood sugar and never drank black coffee.
The next day, I placed a steaming hot Americano on Liam’s desk right on time.
He didn’t even glance up.
“Who told you to buy it this hot?”
I lowered my eyes.
“My apologies, I’ll get another one immediately.”
“No need.”
He picked up the coffee and, right in front of me, drank it, sip by sip.
His brow didn’t even furrow.
I watched him, a strange taste in my mouth.
Had he forgotten, or was he reminding me in this way that he remembered *everything*?
Just then, a sweet, chipper female voice floated in from the doorway.
“Liam, I’ve brought you breakfast!”
Victoria Chase, dressed in a brand-new Chanel suit, sashayed in, carrying a designer lunch box.
She saw me, her smile faltered for a second, then snapped back into place, perfect.
“Oh, isn’t that Sarah Miller?”
She clapped a hand over her mouth dramatically, as if just recognizing me.
“I thought I was mistaken. What are *you* doing here?”
I forced a smile.
“Ms. Chase, long time no see. I’m interning here.”
“Interning?”
She scanned me from head to toe, her gaze like an X-ray, stripping me bare.
“Liam, since when do you hire *these* types of interns?”
Her disdain and contempt were palpable.
Liam set his coffee cup down, his voice unreadable.
“I hired her.”
Victoria’s expression became a masterpiece of shock.
She turned to Liam, her voice taking on a wheedling tone.
“How can you let her work next to you? You forgot how she, back then…”
“Victoria.”
Liam cut her off, his voice hardening.
“This is the office.”
Victoria’s face went pale, and she clamped her mouth shut, seething.
She shot me a venomous glare, a look that felt like a poisoned dagger.
Then, she walked to Liam’s side, intimately linked her arm through his, and opened the lunch box.
“Alright, alright, let’s not talk about that. I *personally* made this cake for you, try it!”
She put extra emphasis on “personally made,” like a hostess reveling in her victory.
Liam didn’t even spare it a glance.
“I don’t have an appetite in the morning.”
He picked up a file and handed it to me.
“Follow up on this project. I want to see a preliminary proposal by 3 PM.”
I took the file and nodded.
“Understood, Director Gallagher.”
From start to finish, I didn’t look at Victoria again.
But I knew her gaze, fixed on my back, felt like it was burning holes through me.
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