Page 4 of Conning Her Dragonkin Boss (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

Chapter Four

A TOTALLY NORMAL WORK DAY (NOT)

Sunny Adlawan

I survived my first touchbase with the boss.

Barely.

I smooth my blazer as I sit at my desk, trying to appear calm and composed while my insides vibrate with the lingering tension of my face-to-face, er, screen, with Ser Khanner Rokoth.

The man didn’t even turn on his camera, and yet I still feel like I had been standing before a tribunal of doom, waiting for my inevitable judgment.

Did I do well? Was he secretly glaring? Did his tail flick in irritation?

I had no way of knowing at the time.

But—

He complimented my scheduling system.

Which, according to the newly formed Admin Gossip Club?, is akin to a golden seal of approval.

I tap my fingers against my desk, staring at my reflection in the sleek black screen of my work tablet. I’m definitely counting the meeting as a win.

Not being fired immediately? Win.

Not being growled at? Win.

Not being threatened with some cryptic corporate warning about following my instincts and knowing when to run ? Big win.

Encouraged, I square my shoulders.

Now, onto the next task: going on a deep dive of Vormugh Enterprises and the executive suite.

By the time lunch rolls around, I already make a dent in the Vormugh Enterprises files, learning the who’s who of the company, the major departments, and—more importantly—the power dynamics of the C-suite executives.

Naturally, this means it’s time to debrief with my fellow admins.

I plop down at a table in the staff lounge, greeted by a mixed bag of encouraging smiles and eager stares.

Neve, our resident pixie HR rep, leans forward with a gleam in her eyes. A glittery light show arcs from her wings. “Don’t keep us in suspense, newbie. How was it?”

I take a dramatic breath. “I lived.”

Harla arches a brow. “And?”

I lean in conspiratorially. “You guys…he said something.”

The entire table falls silent.

One of the goblins from accounting gasps. “He spoke?”

I nod gravely. “He did.”

“With actual words?” Neve demands, wings fluttering so fast they blur. “Say it exactly how he said it.”

I clear my throat, deepening my voice to what I imagine is my best ‘intimidating dragonkin businessman’ impression, and say, “I like the updated calendar.”

The table erupts.

“THAT’S HUGE.”

“Are you kidding? That’s basically a promotion!”

“Do you realize how rare that is?”

Harla smirks. “I once heard him say ‘acceptable’ to an intern, and they passed out from shock.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re joking.”

Harla takes a long sip of tea. “Am I?”

The entire group oohs in collective reverence, as if I have unlocked a hidden achievement in the CFO’s Hall of Favor.

Well. That’s unexpected, but not nearly as surprising as I feel right now. Despite all the hoops and the constant masking, this is no harder than trying to please wealthy ladies with too much money, boredom, and entitlement in my last luxury sales gig.

Heck, I honestly think this job is way easier—with three times the pay, not to mention the benefits. I’m not going to give Ser Rokoth—or anyone else—any reason to get rid of me.

After lunch, I decide to do a little extra research.

I pull up archived images from past company events, scanning through formal gala pictures, boardroom presentations, and press releases featuring the Big Three.

Urul Vormugh, the CEO—Tall, broad, tusked, and radiating pure orcish charisma.

Royce Arden, the COO—Sharply-dressed, oozing wulver charm with that great big grin, and dangerously good at his job.

And then?—

Khanner Rokoth.

My scrolling slowed.

Even in still images, he has a commanding presence—his towering frame wrapped in perfectly tailored suits, his charcoal-gray scales glisten like carved jewels, his golden eyes sharp, calculating.

He looks like he has been chiseled from unyielding marble, all angular features and severe lines, a cousin to gargoyles but unmistakably dragonkin.

Holy hell, he’s handsome.

I don’t want to admit it, but— damn .

It’s a good thing he left the video off on our touchbase. I don’t think I would have been half as coherent as I was.

I tap the screen, zooming in on an older event photo where he stands at Urul’s side, arms crossed, his wings visible behind him in this one, his tail thick and ridged like a weapon.

“Fully dragonkin.” Harla’s voice interrupts my thoughts, nodding to my note on whether he is a dragonkin hybrid with a gargoyle. “One hundred percent. Sorry, didn’t mean to pry.”

I look up, blinking at the welcome interruption. “No worries at all. I’ve been meaning to ask, but didn’t want to pry.”

Harla offers me a kind smile. “You do not need to worry overly much. Otherkin are proud to share their lineage and bloodlines—some a little too proud. But generally, we’ve learned to keep the epic sagas to a minimum. At least in the office setting.”

I giggle at that. “Well that’s good to know. So that means you’ve seen his shifted form?” I’ve heard that dragonkin can shift into full-blown, fire-breathing dragons.

She shakes her head. “No, thank goodness. I’m afraid he might take out this entire floor in that form, and we’ve just finished our renovations.” It takes me a full beat to realize she’s joking and smile with her. “At any rate, his dragonkin form alone is intimidating enough. Especially when he lets his wings loose.”

I make a mental note to research dragonkin morphology later. Strictly for professional reasons, of course. Totally professional. No ulterior motives whatsoever.

Harla and I go back and forth on a few more incoming tasks and debriefs me on some of the videos I’ve watched—which was her initially goal in coming to see me and not gossip about my boss. She tells me that I’m progressing nicely, and that I have nothing to worry about this Friday.

When I’m alone once more, I pull out my paper planner, my prized Hobonichi Cousin, flipping open to my monthly layout.

Everything I’ve just learned needs to be coordinated. Khanner will be dropping additional events later today, and I need to slot them into my personal system before things spiraled into chaos.

I neatly write down:

Finalize Financial Review Setup – Friday

Conference Room Prep – Thursday Night

Cross-Check Q1 Data with Royce’s Reports

Ensure Urul Has His Updated Deck (or Else)

And then—something catches my eye.

A cute chibi sticker of a dragon knight pointing to a highlighted date already marked in my planner: Wyvern’s Dawn Cosplay Convention with a list of items I still need to prepare before I leave. Actually, I need to request that date off in the calendar before I forget.

I reach for a sticky note to jot down a reminder, and end up staring at the little chibi sticker.

And then, I stare back at Khanner’s image on my screen.

…Oh no.

I have been so wrapped up in researching him that I don’t realize until now that he looks exactly like the fictional dragon-knight character from my favorite fantasy franchise.

Pulling up my book app on my phone, I swipe to the latest Wyvern’s Dawn book, and magnify the cover art. I hold it up next to Khanner’s images, and a sinking feeling grows in my gut. Swap out the custom-tailored designer suit for some battle armor, and he would be the spitting image of the latest dragon-knight ready to unleash hell on any who would defy his warrior priestess fated mate.

The warrior priestess I plan on cosplaying because I so want to be her, and I so have a thing for the dragon-knight. Specifically, broody, dangerous, battle-worn dragon-knights who fight alongside their warrior-priestesses and always come out victorious together.

Oh, this is bad.

I close my planner, physically pushing it away as if that will guard against any workplace crushes from happening.

Nope. Not happening.

A crush on my boss is a one-way ticket to disaster.

I have better things to do.

Like making sure I’m the best damn executive assistant Vormugh Enterprises has ever seen.

And making sure my cosplay for the convention is perfect.

Because if I’m going to be financially responsible with this new paycheck, I am damn well going to spend some of it guilt-free on my hobbies.

Pushing all unnecessary thoughts aside, I refocus on my real priorities. Work first. Work means money means security means paid time off to go to fun trips and conventions.

I triple-check my meeting notes.

I run through the agenda for Friday’s financial review.

I start prepping the conference room setup.

I won’t let some ridiculous crush ruin my focus.

I’m here to be the best assistant this company had ever seen.

Not to daydream about dragon knights and fated mates.

Nope.

Definitely not.