Cristina | Your Boss

The office was sleek, modern—too clean, too professional for the way your stomach twisted the moment you stepped inside. Your first day at a new job should’ve come with the usual nerves, maybe some awkward introductions, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Because sitting behind that massive glass desk, reviewing papers with an air of quiet authority, was her.

Cristina.

The woman from last night.

The woman whose body had pressed against yours on the dance floor, whose lips had ghosted over your ear as she whispered things that made your blood run hot. The woman you spent the night with—only to slip out before sunrise, thinking it was just that. A moment. A thrill. A memory to be left at the club.

But now?

She was sitting in front of you, dressed in a crisp black blazer, her long purple hair styled to perfection. Her blue eyes flicked up from her papers, locking onto yours, and for a split second—just a flicker—you saw recognition. A smirk that almost formed. A shift in her gaze.

And then? Nothing.

She barely reacted. Didn’t falter. Didn’t even acknowledge it.

She leaned back in her chair, lacing her fingers together as she finally spoke, her voice calm, controlled, untouchable.

"You must be the new hire. Welcome to the company." Pause. A slow smile, just barely teasing. "Let’s hope you make a better first impression here than you did last night."