Page 2 of Conning Her Dragonkin Boss (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

Chapter Two

THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE OFFICE

Sunny Adlawan

The first rule of thriving in a monster-run corporate empire? Fake confidence until it becomes real.

I adjust my blazer dress, take a deep breath, and stride into Vormugh Enterprises like I’ve done this every day of my life.

The sleek obsidian floors reflect the soft glow of enchanted crystal light fixtures, casting an eerie but expensive ambiance over the space. Employees sweep past me—goblins in tailored suits, vampires murmuring into holographic earpieces, a naga lazily sipping coffee while reviewing a stack of floating documents.

I clutch the strap of my tote bag like a designer lifeline. It’s my life organizer and of-course-I-belong-in-the-executive-suite camouflage.

Because let’s be real—this job is my golden ticket.

Paid on-site housing in the heart of Obsidian City (a miracle in this economy), full medical, dental, and supernatural insurance (because apparently, accidental hexes are a thing), and a generous salary that would actually let me build a future.

All I have to do?

Survive my new boss, Khanner Rokoth, CFO, without getting fired. From my multiple interviews getting this job, and from the various assessment tests, I had the feeling that resilience—and being borderline psychic—was a damn near requirement to keep this job.

Jokes on them: I was a gopher for my university profs and put myself through undergrad and grad school on a teaching assistantship while also bartending and working third shift in logistics.

Besides, if I can weather my immigrant parents’ never-ending disapproval that I didn’t become a lawyer-doctor, I can survive anything.

A nephilaris woman with lovely iridescent golden skin and dark silk power suit intercepts me before I can even find the elevators. She has a torso of a lean woman and the lower body of a weaver spider. I’m grateful that I recognize her from my last video interview.

The memory of our conversation pops up front and center in my mind’s eye, along with her name, Harla Spindrel, Senior Administrative Manager. She very kindly warned me that her physical appearance may be a bit off-putting.

I’m not naturally afraid of spiders; even so, I took the warning as the little test it was. If I wished to work at the most prestigious company in Obsidian City where human laws don’t apply, I needed to keep my human sensibilities at home.

Luckily, I’ve lived in Obsidian City for a few months, and have trained myself to stop jumping at every shadow or be intimidated by anything that looms over me, which is nearly everyone here.

“Good morning, Sunny. I’m delighted to meet you in person.” Her sharp, black eyes assess me like a jewel appraiser determining if I’m a priceless diamond or cheap cubic zirconia. My face reflects in the six black orbs staring back at me.

I flash my most dazzling smile. “Good morning, Ms. Spindrel. I’m delighted to be here.”

She gives a crisp nod, her black bob swinging forward with her movements. “Please, call me Harla. Our first stop will be the Security Office to make sure your biometrics are in our system, and assign you a badge. Then, we can do the rest of the onboarding, and I can ensure your passcodes work along the way. Follow me.”

I rush to keep up as she power-walks with her six legs through the lobby while giving me a rapid-fire breakdown of my new domain. Thank goodness for my cardio sessions where I belt out Taylor Swift lyrics while walking on an incline. Even so, I find myself simply nodding and making affirmative noises rather than answering in complete sentences so I don’t pass out. I’m hoping I don’t sweat through my blazer.

Once I am officially processed through security, and I am able to swipe through multiple turnstiles, elevators, and the doors on the executive office floor. Harla finally pauses in front of a set of double doors that looks as if it were lifted from a fantasy novel. It’s all sleek, shiny, dark wood with Khanner Rokoth, CFO emblazoned on it.

It makes me think of drawbridges and moats, it looks that standoffish.

My cold and austere workstation, a modern-looking affair that’s all sleek black and glass, looks more warm and welcoming comparatively.

I try to look through the opaque glass that serves as walls to his office, but no luck. The privacy shields are for real here.

“You’ll be stationed here outside Ser Rokoth’s office. He rarely tolerates inefficiency, noise, or delays, so keep all interactions brief and precise.”

Brief and precise. Got it. I also note the use of the honorific, ser. That is a very traditional Otherkin title for males of high status.

“You have this week to get settled and learn the systems before your first face-to-face with Ser Rokoth. That gives you five days to prove you’re competent before you enter the dragon’s lair, so to speak.”

Okay, that wording is alarming.

“Wait—why does that sound like I’m being sent to my doom?”

Harla glances at me. “Because most of your predecessors didn’t last that long.”

Welp. Fantastic start.

“And before you ask, no, you won’t be meeting him today,” Harla continues. “Ser Rokoth is off-site in meetings. Your first direct interaction will likely be a Tuesday morning touchbase, depending on his schedule. Until then, you’ll communicate through the internal messaging system, which we will set you up with when the VorTech guys come through to check your connections.”

A small wave of relief washes over me knowing that I still have time to prepare before meeting my new boss. I’m not shy, per sé, but I do much better with a prepared script. Otherwise, my AuDHD brain and caffeinated motor mouth have a tendency to overshare at the worst time.

“Any advice?” I ask.

Harla balances her files in her arm, already preparing for the next bullet point on her task list for the day. “Yes. Be competent.”

Noted.

By lunch, I’ve met the rest of the administrative staff—a motley mix of Otherkin. Mainly vampires and faekin as they are the most populous races in Obsidian City, and one particularly chatty pixie from HR.

“You haven’t met him yet, have you?” The pixie, Neve, hovers beside me, wings fluttering excitedly.

“Not yet. I might be meeting with him tomorrow via virtual chat,” I say, picking at my adobo while mentally making notes of everything I’ve learned so far.

“Well, brace yourself,” a goblin from accounting chimes in. “Ser Rokoth is…” She waves her hand in the air, trying to land on just the right word. “Intense.”

The warnings come rapid-fire, each one escalating my mental image of Ser Rokoth from intimidating boss to apex predator in a three-piece suit .

“He sees everything. He knows when you have been inside his office, and he’ll know when you breathe too loudly.”

“Did you know his tail can take out a desk chair in one swipe?”

“If you ever see his wings, take cover.”

I force a laugh, determined to stay positive. “He can’t be that bad, right?”

The entire table falls silent.

A wulver from the VorTech division—who is roughly the size of a small car—leans forward, voice hushed. “I saw him fire a guy for interrupting him mid-sentence.”

I freeze mid-bite, mentally calculating how fast I’d need to run if things go south.

Back at my desk, I shake off the anxiety with a few deep breathing sessions.

I got this. I did not survive grad school, then five years of retail management hell, and then a rogue poltergeist infestation in my last condo to get spooked by one grumpy dragonkin whom I haven’t even met yet.

While I wait for the tech guys to come through, I make myself useful. Between the video onboarding modules, I snoop around the Vormugh Enterprises work portal.

With enough random clicks, I create my own email address and profile, and request access to other “off-limits” areas. As an executive assistant, anything he has access to, I need access to.

Apparently, Harla agrees because she immedaitely approves all my requests for access. The last request for access comes with a reply attached to it.

Sunny,

At your earliest convenience, please update Ser Rokoth’s calendar to align with the latest Operational Calendar that has just been approved.

Best,

Harla

A jolt of excitement rushes through me. My first assignment. And it’s calendar planning.

Admittedly, calendar planning and organizing schedules bring me so much joy. There’s nothing better than merging strategic time-blocking with color-coding and links. This is a low-energy, low-hanging-fruit kind of activity that I gives me a steady drip of dopamine while clicking through my training modules.

I click on the link to Khanner Rokoth’s calendar that Harla forwarded to me, expecting to do some clean up. Maybe a few updates here and there.

It’s worse. So much worse than I could even imagine.

I sit for a full minute just staring at the chaos in front of me, trying to make sense of it.

How?

Why?

And, oh no .

Meetings are double-booked. There are overlapping commitments that shouldn’t be possible unless he’s figured out how to be in two places at once. Some appointments aren’t even labeled.

This is criminal. This is a scheduling abomination.

I click on the training module to the next video, and break out my work notebook and my favorite pencil case where I store all my favorite highlighters and pens. Then, I print out the next six months on individual pieces of paper so I can see them laid out in front of me.

Thankfully, I have a large workspace.

I take the six sheets of paper, and lay them out in a line. Then, I list out the priorities, cross reference the most recent Operations Calendar to add any other non-negotiables, and list out other events that need to be rescheduled or canceled.

With that done, I painstakingly update all of Ser Rokoth’s calendars month by month.

I color-code everything based on priority.

I sort meetings into digestible blocks, leaving breathers so he doesn’t combust.

I flag a few conflicts that need rescheduling.

Within an hour, I have a clean, manageable system ready.

Now, for event planning.

A quick glance at this week’s schedule tells me Khanner is due to attend a high-stakes quarterly review, where he’ll present financials to the field executives with the CEO and COO in attendance.

I review past presentations, pulling key data, organizing reports, and setting up pre-meeting briefings so he doesn’t have to scramble.

This is my zone of genius.

I can do this.

I lock in my changes, send out confirmation emails, and fire off a concise summary to Ser Rokoth, attaching my revamped system for his Tuesday morning review.

Because dammit , we are going to have a Tuesday morning review.

No errors. No wasted time. Just efficiency and organization.

I lean back in my chair, satisfied.

I may not have met Ser Rokoth yet, but when I do? I’ll be ready.