My Devil Boss Is My Online Boyfriend Chapter 2

I finally found an empty hallway corner where I could sob uncontrollably, then reflexively opened the messaging app to vent to my online boyfriend.

“He made me cry again today.”

The reason I was here, working, instead of finishing my Master’s, was because my mom had gotten terribly sick right after I secured my acceptance. Every penny we had went to her care.

The money still wasn't enough. On a friend’s suggestion, I started a niche account, doing faceless livestreams of me making custom macrame wall hangings.

To my shock, people actually tipped.

Then, my online boyfriend showed up, immediately became my Tier-S Patron, and dumped what added up to over eight hundred thousand dollars into my account. For a college graduate from a normal background, it was an astronomical, life-changing sum. I added him as a friend to thank him.

"Midnight_Investor" was nothing like my boss. He was kind. He comforted me every time I was down. Soon, we were inseparable.

He replied right away.

“Hugs, baby. Your boss is clearly a toxic narcissist.”

“He has no right to yell at our baby. I believe everything you do is the best.”

“After all, you’re so talented with your hands. You make those gorgeous macrame pieces.”

The more he comforted me, the more the raw emotion welled up.

“But I really worked so hard on that proposal. I didn’t even sleep last night, and he still screamed at me.”

He immediately sent a flurry of the kissing emojis I always used.

“It’s okay, baby. You just graduated. It’s good to let the sadness out. Big things take time.”

“Don’t be sad. I’ll fix the proposal for you tonight. You get some rest.”

Looking at the gentle, thoughtful man on the screen, half my heart melted. I scrubbed at my raw, red eyes.

“What good is crying?”

The cold, icy voice made my whole body jump.

I looked up to see my boss, Graham, meticulously wiping his hands, looking vaguely annoyed.

“If you can’t seize the opportunity, if you rely on ‘taking your time’ for everything, you’ll end up like your proposal: thrown in the trash.”

He tossed the hand-wiping napkin into a waste bin to emphasize his point. His cold eyes leveled on my still-red ones.

“So, instead of crying here, get back to work.”