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

Chapter Three

A NEW VARIABLE

Khanner Rokoth

The rich aroma of espresso filled the private conference lounge as I took an unhurried sip of my morning doppio, letting the heat settle into my system as I scanned the financial reports streaming across my screens.

Three separate monitors, each tuned to different market feeds, scrolled in quiet synchronization—the Obsidian City Stock Exchange on the left, Rift-Approved International Markets on the right, and a central stream dedicated to internal Vormugh Enterprise analytics.

Everything is running as it should.

I took another sip, enjoying the brief, rare moment of quiet before the next wave of obligations demanded my attention.

An unfamiliar chime sounds from my tablet, disrupting the morning’s rhythm.

Not one of my usual alerts.

My eyes flicked toward the notification panel on my screen. A calendar invite.

From one Sunny Adlawan.

I frowned.

Who?

My brows draw together.

I tap the notification, pulling up the details of her company profile.

Sunny Adlawan.

Executive Assistant to Khanner Rokoth, CFO.

My new executive assistant. I see. I tap back to the calendar invite.

Wednesday 9:30 AM – Touch Base with Ser Rokoth

Agenda:

· Weekly Priorities Mid-Week Update

· Executive Calendar Adjustments

· Report Submission Schedule

The timeline is efficient—fifteen to thirty minutes max. No fluff. No wasted time.

Still, irritation prickles beneath my skin.

I don’t like unexpected meetings.

And I don’t like people putting themselves on my calendar without approval.

My thumb hovers over the decline button.

But then I pause, and scroll through the various links and reports she’s sent me, including a summary of notable actions in a Monday end-of-day email that I missed.

A new assistant usually means delays, corrections, inefficiencies.

Yet, everything has already been done.

Reports submitted. Accounts reconciled. Meetings prepped.

She’s been here for one full day, and there hasn’t been a single oversight.

Curious, I open her employee file through the VorTech portal.

Sunny Mahal Tayapad Adlawan.

Human. Temporary Work Visa—Vormugh Enterprises Sponsorship.

Her personnel photo loads—a formal corporate headshot, nothing remarkable. But the details stand out.

Fast-tracked promotions at her previous positions. High competency in organization and workflow automation. A reputation for problem-solving.

Still, none of it explains how she’s already adjusted to my workflow without needing correction.

By the time I’m done skimming through the information, it is nearly time for the “touchbase” to start.

I tap the screen to enter the virtual conference room, expecting to wait for the next ten minutes for her to arrive.

The meeting initiates, the interface connecting automatically.

The screen loads—but before I could change my status to waiting, I notice she is already there.

Waiting.

The screen displays a woman with dark, sleek hair pulled into an elegant low ponytail, cat-like eyes sharp with focus, and a confident, composed posture.

She doesn’t look nervous.

Surprise ripples through me.

Most people fumble through connection delays or need me to acknowledge their presence first.

She, on the other hand, sits with an unshaken calm, dressed in a professional slate-blue blazer that complements her golden-tan complexion. Her lips are painted a subtle berry shade, something I wouldn’t normally notice, but against her smooth skin, it’s striking.

And I don’t like that I notice.

She blinks at the blank screen. “Ser Rokoth?”

I lean back in my chair. “I’m here.”

If she’s unsettled that I’m not visible, she doesn’t show it.

“Great,” she says, immediately pulling up a detailed spreadsheet on her end of the screen. “I’ll keep this quick. I know your time is valuable.”

That earns a sliver of my attention.

She doesn’t fill the silence with unnecessary small talk.

She gets straight to business.

I watch, intrigued despite myself, as she runs through the priorities of the week, how it’s going so far, and what’s needed to course correct and what can stay the course. Every detail is accounted for, from financial reviews to vendor renewals, with three backup contingencies prepared in case plans change.

Her voice is clear, professional—but not robotic.

Polished, efficient, even when she pointed out the discrepancies between the Operations Calendar and my work schedule and appointments. She would have been rightfully entitled to a hint of exasperation regarding all she needed to correct, yet she glided over the inconsistencies as if they were smooth glass.

However, I make a mental note to chastise Royce about slapping together the Operations Calendar without any cross-departmental input.

By the time Sunny reaches the final bullet point, only fifteen minutes have passed.

She folds her hands, her eyes sharp. “Are there points you need clarified?”

I consider her, letting the silence stretch.

I don’t have a single correction.

Everything is precisely where it needs to be. My calendar actually functions now. I zoom in on this Friday’s meeting. The quarterly review.

“None. There is one update. I’ll be delivering the review on site in the office,” I said.

For the first time, I see it—a flicker of something that mars the smooth calm of her face. A ripple so quick, it was barely perceptible.

There. And gone.

If I haven’t been watching her so closely, I would have missed it. “Therefore, the conference room needs to be set up for both in-person and virtual attendees.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Understood. I’ll ensure the conference room is prepped accordingly.”

I lean forward slightly, studying her through the screen.

“Will all reports be ready by Friday?”

Another quick uptick of her brow. I decide to call her out on it. “Is there an issue?”

She scans something on her side of the screen, yet doesn’t hesitate in answering. “No, Ser Rokoth. Only that I already prepped those reports this morning.”

I narrow my eyes.

Her face relaxes as if seeing what she needs. “Ah yes, I verfiied that I have sent the reports to your email and attached it to this morning’s agenda, but I also re-sent it to you to bump it up on your inbox.” She straightens slightly.

Ah.

I flick my gaze back to her personnel file.

No mention of psychic abilities.

Interesting.

Urul and Royce enter the room, but I ignore them, keeping my attention on her.

“Anything else, Ser Rokoth?” she asks.

I consider her for a moment. She’s bright, quick, and efficient. She will benefit from positive feedback that will encourage her in this tack.

“I like the updated calendar,” I admit. “I’ll be dropping additional events for you later today once I finalize them.”

A small smile—the first real one—curves on her lips. “I’ll be ready for them. I look forward to meeting you in person on Friday, Ser Rokoth.”

The call ends, but I don’t move right away.

Instead, I sit back, exhaling slowly as I process the exchange.

I look forward to meeting you in person.

No one looks forward to meeting me in person.

Urul’s booming voice cuts into my reverie. “This Friday?” I forgot he and Royce are here. “Don’t we have that last round of meetings Friday morning? What exactly are you plotting?” he says, amusement thick in his voice.

I don’t look at him, reaching for my doppio instead. “Nothing. And, I just double checked. Our meetings were re-scheduled to tomorrow considering the quarterly review is the priority. It’s called effective calendar management. You should try it sometime.”

Royce smirks, dropping into one of the chairs. “Right. Calendar management in the form of your new assistant. So is that why you’re suddenly in a rush to return to the office? Gonna make sure she’s not actually a unicorn?”

Urul hides his face in his hands. “Please tell me you’re not going to go and micromanage this one away or scare her off? Please? I’m literally begging here.”

“I do not scare my employees,” I say flatly.

Urul lets out a booming laugh. “Khanner, you terrify people just by existing.”

I ignore them both, finishing my espresso.

Urul drops into a chair catty corner to me, folding his hands. “Let me see if I follow. The Boardroom interviews are scheduled until end of day Thursday. We are scheduled to leave this hotel on Friday morning. Yet you intend to be in Obsidian City first thing Friday rather than taking the meeting virtually as originally intended. Am I getting this right?”

“You make it seem like there’s not a nearby Rift Gate conveniently located in the sublevels of this hotel,” I say, keeping my voice even. “Besides, it’s professional to meet my assistant face-to-face.”

Royce tilts his head. “Professional. Sure.”

“She’s good at her job. That’s all,” I reply smoothly.

Royce lets out a low whistle. “Whoa. Did you hear that, Urul? First he says he likes her calendar and now she’s good at her job. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you compliment any of your assistants, and here we have two in one hour.”

I shoot him a dry look. “I don’t give undeserved compliments.”

Urul arches a brow. “Meaning?”

“Meaning nothing. I’m just saying Sunny deserved them.”

A beat of silence.

Then Urul grins. “Marry her immediately.”

Tendrils of smoke curl from the corners of my mouth.

Royce chuckles as he leans against my desk. “Why not? It worked for Urul. Could work for you.”

I level my draconic stare at both of them.

Instead of dignifying them with a response, I simply flick on my financials screens and return to my espresso, diligently ignoring their presence as I return to actual business.

One day.

In one day, my new assistant is already managing my calendar, my workflow, and my expectations without a single misstep.

I should be relieved.

Instead, I feel something far more unsettling.

An undeniable pull.

I don’t just approve of her work.

I like it.

There is something about Sunny Adlawan—the way she took control of the meeting, adjusted without hesitation, and handled my expectations flawlessly.

Competence is attractive.

I have never looked twice at a human before.

But now?

I find myself wondering what her skin would feel like under my hand.

Soft. Possibly, too soft.

I shake the thought away, irritated.

I have no time for distractions.

And speaking of distractions…

I glance toward the door, suppressing my growing impatience.

We have one more round of Boardroom interviews before the day is done.

For the first time since this trial started, I want to fast-forward to the end.

Because the real challenge—the one I am most interested in—is waiting for me in the office on Friday.