Page 7 of Conning Her Dragonkin Boss (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

Chapter Seven

SUNNY SKIES

Khanner Rokoth

I feel lighter.

For the first time in longer than I care to admit, I return from an offsite meeting without the usual undercurrent of dread.

Normally, I come back to piles of disorganized reports, backlogged requests, and mistakes that I have to personally fix.

Today?

Everything is handled.

Every meeting. Every deadline. Every financial projection.

Because of her.

Sunny Adlawan.

Enjoy the rest of your day, Khanner

Gods, I loved hearing my name out of her mouth. And, thanks to her, I very much am able to enjoy the rest of my day.

It only took her, what? One week. Less than.

That’s all it took for her to bring order to my previously chaotic, overburdened schedule. She makes every single one of her predecessors feel like mindless zombies the way she so effortlessly carries this role.

No, that’s not fair to her. She is well over-qualified for this role, zombie predecessors or no. This week—espcially considering it’s only her first week—is proof of that.

Now, I just need to make sure she wants to stay.

I sit in my office, enjoying a rare moment of stillness, my espresso in one hand and a fresh almond croissant from Ma Chérie in the other.

Ma Chérie.

She even knew to order from my favorite patisserie.

It’s almost unsettling how much Sunny knows about me, and how she doesn’t seem to care that I place my attention on her. In fact, she asks for acknowledgment without outright saying so every time she goes above and beyond expectations.

I can’t help but notice, and clearly the upper management agree.

Dare I think it? I can finally focus on my actual work, instead of spending my time cleaning up the incompetence of others?

It’s almost too much to hope for that. She will likely find her groove and settle into an expected lull sometime from now. Perhaps after her first month here. I would assume after her ninety-day probation period, but I don’t recall any assistant lasting that long, so it’s hard for me to say for sure.

I take another sip of my espresso, letting the rich bitterness ground me as I tune in to the office chatter just outside my door.

“She actually did it,” someone from the admin team whispers.

“Did what?” a goblin asks.

“She survived a whole week.”

A round of laughs and murmured agreement. “Let’s not get too hasty. Ser Rokoth was off-site this week.”

“Stop! She did great! All the execs were buzzing after the meeting this morning.”

Harla’s voice cuts through the noise, amused. “Which is exactly why we’re taking her out to celebrate.”

“Downtown, right?” Neve, the pixie from HR, chimes in. “I already made the reservation at The Velvet Olive.”

My brows furrow slightly. The Velvet Olive.

A high-end martini lounge known for strong drinks, a stylish atmosphere, and an unfortunate lack of security.

I take another sip of my espresso, disapproving instantly.

Alcohol. Crowds. Unpredictability.

None of which Sunny should be dealing with.

She isn’t streetwise. She’s too trusting, too bright to be in a place where she could so easily be taken advantage of.

I tell myself it’s not my problem.

She’s an adult.

She can make her own choices.

And yet, three hours later, I find myself outside The Velvet Olive.

The martini lounge is exactly as I expect.

Low lighting, sleek velvet seating, a bar stocked with glowing bottles of Rift-exclusive liquors.

The air buzzes with energy—a mix of humans, Otherkin, and a handful of creatures who probably aren’t on the legal entry list.

I stay to the shadows, slipping into a dimly lit corner booth where I can keep a careful watch without being noticed.

And then, there she is.

Sunny, sitting at a booth with her coworkers, laughing, her eyes alight with genuine joy.

She looks…soft here.

Not in the carefully poised way she holds herself at work, but relaxed, unguarded.

Her black hair, unbound, falls like a sheet of black silk down her back and gleams under the golden glow of the lounge’s chandeliers. Her skin is luminous like a gilt pearl, her lips curved in a smile that has no business being as distracting as it is.

I should leave.

I don’t.

Instead, I order a whiskey neat, take an idle sip, and observe from a quiet corner.

An incubus approaches their table.

Well-dressed. Confident. Smug.

I know his type.

Too much charm, too little awareness.

I watch—waiting, assessing.

He leans in, too close. Sunny shifts slightly away.

She so obviously does not want to be touched and yet the male does not back away. That alone ignites my protective instincts.

She’s polite, but her smile cools. He doesn’t notice and continues to linger.

Wrong move.

I let my presence expand, not overtly, but enough for instincts to stir.

The incubus shifts, uneasy, like he can sense something predatory nearby.

He turns, glancing toward the shadows where I sit.

I meet his gaze.

Cold. Unwavering.

A quiet promise of consequence.

Smoke curls from the corners of my mouth. I allow a minor shift, just enough for my wings to unfurl and my eyes to glow.

He stiffens.

A heartbeat later, he mutters something, excuses himself, and disappears into the crowd.

Sunny barely reacts, turning back to her coworkers, unaware of what just transpired.

Good.

I prefer it that way.

I stay long enough to ensure that everyone has their rides figured out. Long enough to pay their tab anonymously. And long enough to personally verify that Sunny’s ride is routed back to Vormugh’s on-site housing.

Only then do I leave.

I follow at a distance, watching from across the street as she enters the secured residential suites, the warded barriers glowing faintly as they lock behind her.

Safe.

Unharmed.

As it should be.

I turn, making my way back toward my own townhouse in the city, pulling out my phone as I walk, letting the crisp air cool my overheated blood.

A thought has been forming in my mind all evening.

I send a text to Urul.

Khanner

Consider installing an after-hours lounge on the lower floors of Vormugh Towers. Secure. Employee-exclusive.

A beat passes.

Then—

Urul

Since when do you care about nightlife?

Khanner

I don’t. But it would keep our staff from wandering into unsecured areas of the city.

Urul

You mean it would keep a certain assistant from going to places you disapprove of?

I don’t respond.

His laughing emoji is answer enough.

I exhale slowly, unlocking my front door.

This isn’t a problem.

It isn’t.

I’m just doing my job.

That’s all.