"Cold Boss Is My Masked Daddy" Chapter 11
Samuel stayed in the car.
Julian didn't move either.
Even the driver looked confused.
Then Samuel said his name.
Julian straightened immediately.
"You needed something?"
Samuel just looked at him.
Quiet.
Unreadable.
Black puffer jacket today.
Clean enough.
Still flattened from too many washes.
Thin in places.
Inside the office, he'd take it off and reveal the usual shirt and suit underneath.
Too light for New York in December.
Slim shoulders.
Narrow frame.
And that tiny mole at the back of his neck.
Faint red against pale skin.
A comment from @WorkIsKillingMe's video flashed through Samuel's mind again—
there's a mole THERE???
omega gland placement omg
if someone bit him there—
Samuel looked away.
Did Julian even know it was there?
Didn't fit.
None of it fit.
At work, Julian was quiet. Careful. Obedient to a fault.
Nothing like the person behind that account.
"Work been rough lately?"
Julian blinked.
Shoulders tightening automatically.
"Not really."
"If something's wrong," Samuel said, "tell me."
"Okay."
A pause.
"If anything comes up, I will."
Too compliant.
Samuel leaned back slightly.
Maybe he really was wrong.
Across from him, Julian watched Samuel's expression cool again.
There it is.
Same as always.
People liked asking questions.
The answers never mattered much.
Your hands cracked from cold?
Shouldn't have played with water.
Got into fights?
Must've been your temper.
Too stressed from work?
Maybe you just weren't trying hard enough.
Same script every time.
Julian climbed out carrying his laptop bag.
Almost off work.
Still too much left to finish.
The second he opened his computer, his phone buzzed.
A message from Orca.
Donation certificate attached.
Already processed.
Julian stared at it for a second before posting publicly himself.
Told everyone the situation was resolved.
Told them to stop shipping him with Orca.
Or anyone else.
The comments turned into collective screaming.
Still—
most people listened.
—
Next morning, Julian sat at his desk looking half-dead.
Third coffee already.
Eyes aching.
Then that smell drifted past again.
Warm citrus.
Wood.
Julian looked up instantly.
Samuel walked past his cubicle without slowing down.
Again with the cologne.
Later, in the break room, the secretaries were already gossiping.
"You noticed Samuel changed perfumes?"
"Yeah. Isn't that the fuckboy fragrance?"
"Honestly? I like it."
"It's not bad. Just doesn't feel like him."
"He usually wears niche stuff."
"Exactly."
"Maybe his girlfriend bought it for him."
"Didn't he post that Christmas picture?"
Julian pushed the door open.
Conversation died instantly.
The two secretaries grabbed their cups and disappeared.
Julian shoved two capsules into the machine.
Needed all of it.
Morning vanished into meetings.
Client meetings.
Internal meetings.
Meetings where bankers smiled through gritted teeth.
Meetings where departments blamed each other for everything.
By noon, Julian already felt embalmed.
He tried slipping downstairs early to avoid the lunch rush.
Didn't make it far.
Asher caught him near the elevator, phone still against his ear.
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"Free right now?"
Julian nodded.
"Good. Samuel needs the file on his desk brought to A101." Asher checked the time. "Client's here. I'm heading downstairs."
Julian turned around immediately.
Samuel's office wasn't large.
Minimalist.
Perfectly organized.
Only one document sat on the desk.
Bound neatly.
Julian picked it up—
then stopped.
A perfume bottle beside the monitor.
Clear glass.
Amber liquid.
The exact same one he'd bought for Secret Santa.
Julian stared.
No way.
Samuel got his gift?
That's why he switched cologne?
His hand moved before his brain caught up.
One spray.
Sharp spice flooded the air.
Then warmth.
Wood.
Something deep underneath.
Exactly the scent clinging to Samuel lately.
Julian regretted buying it instantly.
Way too much.
At some point, he'd started relying on perfume more than he wanted to admit.
Coffee kept him awake for a few hours.
The dresses stayed hidden inside his apartment.
Perfume lasted longer.
Stayed close.
Something solid beneath everything else.
Julian bought that fragrance hoping maybe somebody else needed that feeling too.
Never expected Samuel to end up wearing it.
And now they smelled the same.
Julian screwed the cap back on harder than necessary.
He dropped the documents off in A101 and left.
Hours later, the scent still lingered faintly on his fingertips.
Barely there now.
Julian lifted his hand toward his nose again—
and froze.
The smell intensified suddenly.
A shadow fell across his desk.
Samuel stood beside him, coat still on.
Probably just got back from outside.
"The proposal from this morning," Samuel said. "One section needs revising."
Julian opened the file automatically.
"What needs changing?"
Samuel leaned down beside him.
"Keep scrolling."
Too close.
The cologne wrapped around him completely.
A review Julian once read flashed through his head—
smells like an older man who'd take you around the world and calmly teach you how to survive it
Jesus Christ.
Way too accurate.
"Julian."
Two fingers tapped lightly against the desk.
"Focus."
Heat climbed straight up Julian's neck.
He looked back at the screen too quickly.
"Here?"
White screen.
Frozen.
Computer dead.
Samuel went silent.
Eyes moving slowly across the setup—
the wired mouse.
The charger.
The thick old laptop itself.
"What happened to it?"
"Lagging."
Julian closed three programs without blinking.
"It'll recover."
Thankfully, the laptop chose today to cooperate.
Thirty seconds later, the screen came back.
Julian fixed the section Samuel pointed out and sent the updated file over.
Then sat there waiting for the loading icon to stop dying.
Out of boredom, he opened social media again.
Immediate regret.
The comments were exploding.
Not angry this time.
Just screaming.
What now?
Julian typed a confused question mark.
The replies came instantly.
YOU IDIOT
ORCA FOLLOWED YOU
Julian stared at the screen.
Then opened his follower list.
There it was.
@Orca.
17.86 million followers.
Right at the top.
What the hell was he doing?
Did this guy not understand boundaries?
The comments got worse by the second.
you two are literally flirting publicly now
and you STILL want us not to ship it???
OH MY GOD THEYRE FEEDING US THEMSELVES
am i witnessing romance in real time???
Julian deleted comments until his fingers hurt.
Then opened the DM window.
@WorkIsKillingMe: ?
what are you doing
The reply came quickly.
@Orca: Sorry.
If this caused trouble for you, I apologize.
But my younger brother follows your account.
I need to be responsible for the content he sees.
Julian stared.
Then typed:
@WorkIsKillingMe: ???
then why follow me
@Orca: If your content becomes too explicit, I'll ask him to unfollow you.
Julian nearly laughed out loud.
Control freak.
Even online.
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