My Boss Is a Simp in My Story Chapter 1

I've sculpted a character based on my boss, Jacob Carter, in my smutty novel.

Jacob, who's a cold, distant, and stern man in reality, is reduced to a lovesick simp in my novel. Apparently, he's maddeningly in love with me there.

But when I tender my resignation letter later on, Jacob rips it into shreds before cornering me.

"Oh? Are you planning to leave now that you've finished writing that novel of yours? How dare you discard me as soon as you're done with me! What am I, a cheap escort?"

* * *

I worked as a legal intern at Carter Legal. I was pretty much invisible and didn't have much on my plate.

From Mondays to Thursdays, I slacked off by writing novels. On Fridays, I would throw together a weekly report. Life was good.

But one day, my boss caught me slacking off.

That day, my fingers were flying across the keyboard. Anyone who didn't know better would have assumed I was busier than the firm's star associate, Jacob Carter.

I mean, what could I say? I had always been sharp since I was a child.

I was happily uploading my latest chapter, ready for my readers to shower me with praise, when Jacob's chat popped up.

"Print a document for me."

I quickly switched to his chat.

"Got it, Mr. Carter." I opened the document titled "Notes" and realized it contained only eight words.

"Don't make it so obvious you're slacking off."

Ever since then, my good days had been over. Jacob kept coming after me and picking fights whenever he could.

Frustrated, I started a new story and made him the male protagonist.

By day, I was a corporate slave. By night, Jacob became a lovesick male protagonist in my story.

In the web novel, the male protagonist's name was Jason Cooper. From his job to his looks, build, and demeanor, I had written him entirely based on Jacob.

Jason was cold, distant, and elegant. He was devastatingly handsome too, but he was a hopeless romantic to the core. No matter how much I tormented him, he was still hopelessly in love with me.

Outside, Jason commanded respect wherever he went. At home, he was like a golden retriever, desperate for my attention.

Jason would get jealous over me and compete with other men for me. Later, he would return home and wash my underwear with a straight face.

In reality, I was meek and cautious. In my story, I fought back hard.

I had uploaded a massive 5,000-word chapter last night, driving my readers' anticipation through the roof.

The female protagonist had Jason pinned down in the office. At first, he kept resisting, but he eventually took control.

The chapter ended abruptly with her skirt pushed up to her thighs. It was a perfect cliffhanger.

And my readers went crazy in the comment section.

"You monster! You actually stopped right there? You might as well kill me!"

"Why does it end here? Why? I can only read one chapter a day, and it's making me sick! I think I'm going to faint!

"I feel weak all over, like you've ripped a piece of my heart out! Do you even care about that? Absolutely not!

"You don't care that you left us on a cliffhanger! You don't even care that we're dying for the next chapter, do you?"

"Is Jason the problem? Or is it you?"

"I'm actually going crazy! I'm going to abduct the author and make her write 100 chapters!"

Even though my readers were going feral in the comments, I was still really happy. After all, I had one loyal reader.

She was the only one who mattered—my number one supporter. Her generosity was overwhelming.

More than half of what I earned from the novel came from her alone. She was the one who discovered my talent for writing.

Not too long ago, she gave me a generous tip. In fact, every time I uploaded a new chapter, she would always tip me.

I was smiling so hard that it almost hurt. Life was good since my readers loved to spoil me.

Still grinning, I looked up, only to meet Jacob's eyes through the glass.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I knew I was screwed.

Jacob's icy stare told me everything—he had caught me slacking off.

Only a glass wall separated Jacob's office from my desk, and he never bothered drawing his blinds either.

Under his death stare, I grabbed a stapler in a panic and started stapling random slips of paper together.

Three seconds later, my desk phone rang, and his cold voice came through the receiver, "My office. Now."