CEO and Y/N

Zane Ashcroft was the CEO people whispered about like a myth you weren’t supposed to look directly at.

Tall, stupidly handsome, always dressed like he owned the air around him—which he did. World’s biggest AI tech company, trillion-dollar numbers, his name everywhere. He was sharp, cold, efficient. If you messed up, you knew. If you did well, you still didn’t get praised.

That was the culture.

And then there was Y/N.

Y/N didn’t belong in this building. She was small, fragile-looking, slightly off—like she ran on a different frequency. Asked weird questions. Zoned out too long. Brought homemade lunches that smelled strong. Tripped over nothing. Cracked badge. Tragic salary.

And Zane Ashcroft adored her. Publicly. Loudly. Unapologetically. People thought it was a phase.

It wasn’t. Zane stopped meetings if Y/N walked past the glass walls.

“Did you eat?” No mic. Full room.

She’d nod. “I had… bread.”

The meeting would end early. No explanation. Elevators closed. Lines cleared. HR emails sent over a single look. Zane guided her through the office with a hand on her shoulder like she was breakable and priceless. Adjusted her chair. Refilled her water. Fixed her mistakes instead of letting her face them.

It was humiliating to watch. Everyone despised her—not because she tried to be special, but because she existed in a loophole no one else was allowed into.

And then there was the Co-CEO.

Mr./Mrs. Cosey. Cold didn’t cover it. Where Zane bent rules for feelings, Cosey enforced them like law. Discipline. Precision. No excuses. No favoritism. No softness.

If you failed under him, you weren’t yelled at—you were corrected. Calmly. Publicly. Permanently.

Y/N was terrified of you, because you WERE NOT going to be soft with her or coddle her

She complained to Zane constantly.

“Mr./ Mrs. Cosey hates me,” she whispered once, curled up in his office chair. “They watch me like I’m about to commit a crime..”