Billionaire’s Regret: The One He Lost

A quick exchange later, the two of them walked into the room, and every gossiping colleague went rigid, holding their breath to see what would happen next.

Maxine Mason stayed perfectly composed, offering a polite, "Good morning, Mr. Payne."

Braxton Payne’s gaze drifted over Maxine, his voice ice-cold when he answered: "Get that project plan on my desk ASAP."

With that detached, untouchable air of authority, he brushed right past her, his stiff posture screaming don’t get close.

A sharp little twinge pinched Maxine’s chest, but her face stayed blank. "Yes, sir."

Out of old habit, she moved to follow him up to the executive floor, but just as she reached the elevator, the doors slid shut—cutting off her view of that unforgiving scowl of his. Stunned for half a second, she turned to head for the staff elevator instead.

The same coworkers who’d been gossiping about her two minutes earlier crowded in after her. They crowded closer on purpose, staring her down the whole time.

Maxine backed up until she was trapped in the corner, her suit rumpled, the documents in her hand crinkled at the edges.

The executive suite was on a private restricted floor. When the elevator doors opened, Maxine stared up the long, intimidating staircase, drew a deep breath, and started climbing. Her stilettos felt like fancy little torture devices, every step a struggle.

High heels were a luxury she couldn’t afford anymore. Climbing these stairs every day would be brutal enough, even more so with the baby growing inside her.

By the time she reached the suite, a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her face.

Braxton’s eyes lingered on her rosy, flushed lips for a beat. His Adam’s apple bobbed, then he glanced away and instructed her coolly, "I reviewed today’s schedule. Have Erin handle it. If you’ve got nothing pressing, you can work out of the general assistant’s office downstairs."

Surprise flickered in Maxine’s eyes, and she glanced automatically at her old desk by his door. She didn’t push for answers, just complied. "Alright."

She grabbed a box from the supply closet and packed her things in silence. It was so stuffed that when she tried to lift it, it felt clumsy, unbalanced, way too heavy.

Braxton noticed, and spoke up quietly, "Those are company files. No need to strain yourself. You can just grab what you need when you need it."

"…Okay."

Wasn’t this just his way of making her life miserable?

Maxine had no ground to refuse, so she only took the essentials and carried the light load back down the stairs.

The assistant’s office was one floor below the executive suite, so working there meant she wouldn’t have to climb those stairs every time she turned around. That was a small plus.

Maxine talked herself down, pushed the anxiety aside, and pulled open the office door. Five different secretaries all looked up at once, their gazes curious and twisted with so many other emotions.

"Miss Mason? What brings you down here?"

"I’m working here now," Maxine said simply, before claiming a empty corner desk to settle into.

The other women exchanged quick glances. They could see the hesitation and giddy excitement written all over each other’s faces. A door of opportunity had just swung open for them.

Everyone in the assistant pool had always envied Maxine—she was Braxton Payne’s personal assistant, the closest spot to the king of the company. None of them expected an opening to pop up this soon.

Before long, rumors that Maxine had been demoted spread like wildfire through the office. Word was she’d ticked Braxton off bad, and he was just getting ready to push her out the door for good.

People who’d previously sucked up to her started keeping their distance, hanging back to see how it all played out. Everyone knew Maxine’s new spot was only temporary, just waiting for the final ax to fall.

Maxine didn’t let it faze her. She kept working like she always had, unfazed. The only real change was more walking and climbing. After she twisted her ankle once, she dumped the heels entirely and switched to plain flats for work.

Her first day in flats, Braxton caught her.

He glanced down at her shoes, squinting, and snapped, "So you’re not even bothering to keep up appearances anymore?"

Maxine couldn’t tell him about the pregnancy, so she stuck to her excuse: "I twisted my ankle. It still isn’t healed."

"Liar," Braxton’s face darkened. She’d run around in four-inch heels on a sprained ankle once, powered through a late-night screaming match with him without a single complaint of discomfort.

Truth was, she just didn’t care enough to pretend anymore.

Maxine said nothing.

Braxton’s voice turned ice-cold. "I kept your father, George Mason, out of prison for five whole months. And now you’re just gonna ditch me, is that it?"

After Braxton had bailed her mother out of that gambling den, Maxine never dug deeper into what was going on. She’d assumed her father had finally learned his lesson and stayed out of trouble. She had no idea Braxton had already locked him up.

Maxine’s whole body shook, but she didn’t let it show on her face.

If Braxton hated her this much, he’d probably prefer she stayed far out of his way anyway.

And besides… she wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

"Thank you, Mr. Payne. I don’t know how to repay you," she answered, her voice flat and steady, no give at all.

Braxton’s gaze got even colder, and he taunted, "Can’t repay? Then don’t bother. Forcing it is just pathetic."

What was he even playing at?

Braxton pressed the intercom button, connected straight to HR, and ordered, "Hire a new personal assistant. Demote Maxine one level."

"Got it," HR agreed hesitantly, confused out of their mind, but didn’t dare question him.

After he hung up, Braxton turned back to Maxine: "Bring everything except company files down to your new desk. Once the new assistant starts, you’ll do the full handover."

Maxine pressed her lips into a tight line, caught completely off guard by this sudden move. There hadn’t been any warning signs at all.

Or… maybe Braxton had been planning this for a long time.

She ducked her head lower, still polite, still grateful on the surface: "Thank you, Mr. Payne. I don’t have anything else left to pack. Just let me know when the new assistant gets here."

She turned to leave and pulled the door shut soft behind her—still as considerate as she’d always been.

"Thank you, Mr. Payne?" The words echoed in Braxton’s head, and he let out a bitter laugh. Was she this desperate to get away from him? Fine. He’d just have to see how far she’d really go.

The news of Maxine’s demotion spread through the company faster than wildfire. Every employee she ran into asked her about it.

People who’d sucked up to her before were torn. The other assistants, meanwhile, walked around with a mix of smug satisfaction and quiet rivalry, all watching her every move.

Maxine’s demeanor never shifted. She acted like nothing had changed at all.

In her five years working at Payne Enterprises, this was the first time she’d actually used her lunch card to eat in the company cafeteria.

She’d just sat down when someone walked past and spilled an entire bowl of hot soup right down the front of her shirt. The person fumbled out a hasty apology: "I’m so sorry, it slipped out of my hand! I’ll pay for dry cleaning, I swear."

Maxine looked up, her face completely blank. "Erin, that’s a little childish, don’t you think?"

Since her demotion, she’d put up with all kinds of petty nonsense: elevators that closed right in front of her, meetings she was never notified about that got her marked tardy, all the usual garbage she’d just swallowed quietly. But now they were stooping to direct personal attacks.

Unfazed, Maxine calmly wiped herself down with paper napkins, returned her ruined tray, and bought a new meal to go.

She was glad she’d always had the habit of keeping a spare set of clothes in her desk drawer.

When she walked back to the assistant’s office, she spotted her desk from across the room: it was soaked through with spilled coffee, all her documents ruined. Coffee dripped all over the once-clean carpet, leaving a disgusting brown stain.

There was no one around to claim it, and fighting to pull the security footage just wasn’t worth the energy. She cleaned up the mess herself, called facilities to come take care of the carpet, and headed for the bathroom to change. That plan fell apart when she pulled out her spare clothes—they were stained all over with ink, lipstick, and foundation. Completely unwearable.

She couldn’t stay in this soaked soup-stained outfit and keep working.

After weighing her options and fighting through an internal battle, Maxine made her choice. She pressed the intercom button and asked, "Mr. Payne, are you free right now?"