Billionaire with Benefits

The office hummed with the keyboard clatter, phone trills and the low thrum of voices seeping through cubicles. Another morning. More coffee. More Deadlines breathing down my neck.

My morning routine got me to my desk by 8:00 like always. Not early not late, just the measured arrival expected in a place where order meant survival.

My gaze darted across the screen, sifting through emails with practiced ease, each mouse click considered. There was something strangely Fulfilling about it, knowing that every message I sent, every meeting I arranged, had its own point, it's own mission. It was like building a puzzle, the day slowly materializing under my hand.

I glanced at the corner of my screen, Sebastian Beaumont’s name gleaming in the calendar. He was the reason I kept everything running so seamlessly, "Seb" as I sometimes dared to think of him, though I'd never utter the nickname out loud. Not here. Not in front of anyone else.

It felt like something too personal, too intimate for the world outside my head. But it was there, lingering in the corners of my thoughts, a name I reserved for when I allowed myself to think of him beyond the Professional barrier we maintained.

Nothing could be out of place when he arrived. The perfection wasn't for him, it was my armor. There was power in staying three steps ahead—in predicting his requests before they formed on his lips. This quiet mastery was my armor against disorder, and I wore it Effortlessly.

"Morning, Victoria!" Janine of HR"s sunny voice cut through my focus as she strode by, a pile of resumes precariously perched in her arms.

I sighed inwardly. I never understood how people could be this cheery in the morning.

I looked up, giving her a courteous smile. "Good morning," I responded calmly, my voice professional, but warm enough to maintain civility. She proceeded on, none the better to know that I had already completed most of the work she was stepping into.

The department heads were prepared for her interviews; their schedules cleared, the rooms booked. Those invisible details that kept everything running, most never noticed them, but I ensured they were always perfectly arranged.

It wasn't strictly a part of my work, but that made no difference. I wasn't the type to allow things to fall between the cracks. If anything annoyed me, it was chaos. I liked the way things ran when I was Behind the scenes, pulling strings to get everything done exactly the way it should go.

It let me feel powerful, in charge, and the only way I knew how. The less people saw, the more it meant that everything was going just as it was meant to.

I clicked up the calendar, fingers flying across the keyboard with a practiced precision gained over years of doing this. Meetings, client calls, deadlines— All mixed together in the cozy weave of the workday. Each time block, each appointment, in its own right place, and it was my responsibility to have it all neatly in place.

If I didn't keep my eye on things, this office would fall apart. Perhaps that was overstating it to someone outside the office, but from where I was sitting, it was not an Overstatement. I could already envision the dominos tipping if something fell through the cracks—deadlines missed, upset clients, ruined deals.

I wouldn’t let that happen. Not on my watch.

Greg from finance leaned against my desk, his usual composure strained. "Victoria, do you have the latest Marketing projections?"

He wore that expression, the one people get when they're moments from panic but still pretending to hold it together. His urgency pressed against me before he spoke.

Without taking my eyes off the screen, I calmly replied, "Check your Inbox. I sent them over ten minutes ago."

His exhalation shook through him, shoulders collapsing like dropped anchors. "You are a lifesaver." He breathed.

I offered him a small smile—the kind that said "No problem"—but inside my thoughts had already jumped to the next task.

There was no time to bask in Compliments.

I didn’t do this for recognition. I didn"t need anyone to affirm my value, I was already certain of it. What I needed was seamless operation, every part moving in perfect sync. Printer jam? I’d already fixed it before anyone else even noticed. Last minute meeting change? I had it rescheduled, the new time slotted in without missing a beat.

Everybody ran to me for solutions, and to be fair, I needed it. Each question, each issue that appeared on my desk only reinforced the fact that I was the adhesive that kept this Institution in one piece. It wasn’t about the recognition, though. It was about control. The authority to ensure nothing ever did go awry because I wouldn't allow it.

I had to ensure that everything worked out perfectly.

My phone vibrated against the spotless surface of my desk, its hum a gentle concord to jangling phones and muffled voices. I looked down, my gaze racing across the screen: a text from Seb. On my way. Get the Wilkins File ready.

I tapped out a reply without hesitation, my fingers moving on Autopilot. Already done. The Wilkins file sat neatly on my desk, organized and prepared, like everything else in my day.

The text notification surprised me. Did he honestly think I forgot? Me? The one who recalls everything, starting from his mother's Birthday, to the precise way in which he prefers his coffee, every Deadline for the projects, his timings, his likes, even the reports he requires prior to requesting them? For a while, I simply stared at my phone. Was he actually concerned that our personal relationship was compromising my work? The idea cut deeper than it should have. I never let emotions interfere. Never. My track record was flawless. So why would he doubt me now? The stung bit deeper than I’d prepared for.

When it was about meeting Seb's requirements, I was always ahead of him by five steps, guessing what he would request before the idea even struck him. I had years of experience with him. It wasn't efficiency alone; it was about establishing on a daily basis that nobody could deliver this work the way I delivered it.

Before the office doors swung open, announcing his arrival, I was prepared. I was always prepared. Seb entered with his confident pace, taking possession of the room and the attention of all who were in it, even though they didn't show it. But our morning routines never meant anything beyond routine.

Professional. Efficient. Minimal words exchanged.

He acknowledged me with a nod, brief, barely there, I was used to it. I handed him the Wilkins file without hesitation.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. And neither did I.

He retreated into his office, the door latching quietly. I refocused on my screen, surrendering to the task avalanche. The office pulsed around me, everyone doing their part in it, while I worked in steady, unhurried rhythm. Organized. In control.

That's how I preferred it. I lived for being the one who kept everything together. The one who people came to when it all fell apart. The one with all the solutions, the answers, the remedies no one else had.

Without me, this would be a place of chaos. I knew it. They knew it. And that's just how I wanted it. It allowed me to have a quiet authority, a sureness of knowledge that nothing was done without my command, without moving my hand.

It wasn’t just a Job. It was order. And I made sure that every piece of it fell exactly into the place they were meant to.

I fell into my groove, the constant thrum of the office around me like a comforting tune. Seb's door stayed closed, a shiny wall that somehow didn't detract from his presence.

I could sense him, even at a distance, always some quiet undertone in the office dynamic. His vibe was unspoken but real, like the low tide that never really went away.

My fingers danced on the keyboard, developing a rhythm as I typed the reports. My eyes would wander every now and then to the frosted glass walls , catching occasional glimpses of the city's blurred motion outside.

It was a soft hum of existence, apart from the soft concentration of the office, but pleasant background. My gaze latched onto the window, onto the life outside until a familiar noise drew me away gently from my focus.

A soft click echoed in the quiet, the sound of his office door opening. I knew that sound. My eyes snapped up.

His eyes were upon me, sharp, measuring, as if he weighed whatever