The Ruler: His Ruthless Obsession

Ylena Garcia sat at her desk, fingers curled around a cold cup of coffee that wasn't even hers. Around her, the office pulsed with energy—designers bickered over fabrics, sketched feverishly on tablets, and tossed around ideas like second nature.

No one spared her a glance. To them, she didn't exist.

Her gaze flicked to her phone, a familiar ache settling in her chest. She pictured her room—warm, quiet, waiting for her. A sanctuary where she could lose herself in the pages of her latest dark romance novel. Just last night, she had stayed up late reading Bloodstained Crown, utterly consumed by Elanthia and King Draeven's tragic love. The thought of sinking back into that world, of curling up under her blankets, made her long for home.

"Garcia! Don't forget my oat latte," a sharp voice cut through her thoughts.

Ylena flinched but said nothing. Of course, she wouldn't forget. She never did.

Coffee runs. Useless errands. The tasks no one else wanted. It didn't matter that her title was junior designer—no one let her do anything beyond playing assistant. And at this point, she wasn't even sure they remembered she was supposed to be more than that.

Another voice rang out from across the office, laced with that all-too-familiar condescension. A mocking tone, a sneer disguised as casual banter.

"Seriously, how hard is it to remember our orders?"

Her stomach clenched, but she didn't react. She kept her face neutral, nodding as she reached for her notebook and dutifully scribbled down their demands.

Every day was the same. Coffee runs. Menial tasks. Swallowing her pride while others lived the dream she had once envisioned for herself. She had poured years into earning her fashion degree, only to be reduced to an errand girl. Worse, some of her designs had been stolen—paraded around as someone else's work, while she remained invisible.

Ylena took a deep breath, forcing herself to push aside the disappointment. She could already envision the sanctuary of her room, where she could finally immerse herself in the story that brought her comfort. With a resigned sigh, she stood up and collected everyone's money, preparing to buy their coffee.

She adjusted her glasses, feeling the familiar weight of their judgmental stares as she made her way through the bustling office. Each step felt heavy, but she had become accustomed to the routine. The errands were part of her role, even if it often felt more like servitude than employment.

With her notebook firmly tucked under her arm and the cash tightly held in her hand, she exited the door, her mind already plotting the quickest path to the café. She couldn't stop herself from thinking of the characters waiting for her at home, their stories evolving in ways she wished her own could.

Ylena took off towards the café, opting to run instead of spending money on a taxi. She couldn't indulge in such small luxuries—not if she wanted to have anything left for herself. So she dashed down the street, her heart racing, breath coming in fast, irregular bursts. The sun shone brightly overhead, sweat clinging to her skin, but she pressed on. She needed to be first in line.

When she finally arrived at the café, she skidded to a halt, bending over slightly as she regained her breath. The rich scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloped her, a momentary solace amid her tiring day. She joined the line, thankful to have beaten the crowd. It wasn't much, but at least she could get the orders correct—one of the few things under her control.

Ylena pulled out her notebook, checking the list of drinks she had written down. "Hi! I'm here to place an order," she said, her voice just above a whisper but clear enough to be heard above the café's chatter.

The barista, a young woman with brightly colored hair and a warm smile, looked up from behind the counter. "Sure! What can I get for you? "

Ylena took a calming breath, mentally rehearsing the orders. "Okay, um. . . one oat latte for Isha, a caramel macchiato for John, a black coffee for Lea, and a vanilla chai for Tim," she recited, her voice gaining assurance with each name.