My Ex HAS Become My BOSS

MY EX HAS BECOME MY BOSS – I'M DOOMED

We broke up five years ago.
Now he signs my paycheck.
And every time he calls me “Miss Ade,”
I hear the anger he never spoke out loud…

They say time heals everything.
I believed that—until I saw him again.

Until I walked into the boardroom of my dream job and saw the man I ghosted five years ago…
sitting at the head of the table,
in a tailored navy blue suit,
smirking with the same quiet fury that used to haunt my dreams.

His name is Lanre.

Once, he was my everything.

Now, he’s my boss.

And I think he wants revenge.


---

It was never supposed to be like this.

Five years ago, I ended our relationship with a single message:

> “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. Please don’t call.”



Then I blocked him. Changed my number. Moved to another city.
Not because I hated him—he was gentle. Loving. Too loving.
I was scared.
Scared of how much I depended on him.
Scared of how much he wanted to marry me when I wasn’t ready.
Scared because he saw a future, while I saw only fear.

So I vanished.


---

Now, at 29, I’m tired of running.
When I landed a job at Crest Capital—one of the top financial firms in the country—I thought it was my second chance.

Until the glass doors slid open on my first day…
and I saw him.

Lanre.

Older. Colder.
More powerful than ever.

His eyes locked on mine.
He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t smile.
He simply said:

> “Miss Ade… we’ve been expecting you.”




---

That was three months ago.

Since then, I’ve tried to stay professional.
He never mentioned our past.
But it leaks into everything:

Into how he assigns me the hardest projects.

Into how he corrects me in front of everyone.

Into how he says “Miss Ade” with venom wrapped in velvet.


The others think he’s hard on me because I’m new.
I know better.
He remembers everything.


---

Last Friday, he called me into his office.

The air felt like ice.

Without looking up, he spoke:

> “We’re flying to Abuja for the investors’ summit. You’ll assist me directly.”



I hesitated.

> “Sir, there are senior associates—”



He looked up. His stare was fire.

> “You have a problem, Miss Ade?”



I swallowed. “No, sir.”


---

The flight was silent.
The hotel lobby buzzed with executives.

I stayed in his shadow, hoping to go unnoticed.

But at dinner, surrounded by partners from Dubai and London, Lanre turned to me:

> “Tell them, Miss Ade… why you believe loyalty is the most undervalued asset in business.”



The table fell silent.

He smiled. But his eyes burned.

I knew exactly what he meant.


---

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

At 2:13 AM, there was a knock at my door.

My heart stopped.

I opened it.
Lanre stood there.

Tie loosened. Sleeves rolled up.
A storm behind his calm expression.

> “May I come in?”



I froze. Then stepped aside.

He walked in, looked around, then turned to me.

> “Why did you do it?”




---

I looked at him. Really looked.

The man who once held my face like it was something precious.
Who wrote me poems he never shared.
Who once whispered, “You are not hard to love. You just need someone who won’t run.”

And I did the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t do: I cried.

> “I was afraid,” I whispered.
“You loved me so much, it felt like drowning. I didn’t know how to love you back. So I ran.”



He stood silent.
Then finally asked:

> “And now?”



I looked up.

> “Now I wish I hadn’t.”



He nodded once.

Then turned toward the door.

> “Get some rest. Early call tomorrow.”



And he left.


---

Back at the office, everything changed.

He wasn’t cold anymore.
But he wasn’t warm, either.

Silent. Deliberate.

A week later, he called a leadership restructure meeting.
My name was on the shortlist for promotion.

Everyone was shocked.
So was I.

But the real shock came the next morning.


---

On my desk was a small envelope.

Not from HR.

Handwritten.

No name. Just five words:

> “You still owe me closure.”



I thought he only wanted revenge.
But maybe… he wants something more.

And I don’t know if I’m ready
—to find out what it is.