[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

The delivery robot whirred to a stop beside Neville’s desk, its compartments filled with carefully packed containers of food. Three weeks had passed since he had started his side job. The Secretarial Department had evolved into what Sarah cheerfully called "Neville’s Diner."

Neville glanced at the robot, a sleek model with Maxwell Corporation’s logo on its side. The department had pooled their money together to buy it for him, claiming it was a "necessary investment" after watching him juggle armfuls of takeout containers like some kind of desperate circus performer.

"Morning, Hope!" Sarah bounced over with her new curls bouncing together with each step. "Did you bring the braised cosmic beast ribs today? Director Park was inquiring about them."

"Third compartment." Neville adjusted his nerd glasses, hiding a yawn behind his hand. He had been up since four in the morning prepping orders. "Tell her the Ananas Padma fruit is complimentary."

"You’re a saint." Sarah clasped her hands together dramatically. "An absolute saint walking among us mere mortals."

Neville snorted. "A saint who charges 1500 star coins for a bento box?"

"That’s way more affordable than the unpalatable restaurants out there, saint," Sarah reasoned, already reaching for her order. "Oh! Did you hear? The R&D department wants to make you an app. Like, an actual in-company ordering system."

Neville paused in the middle of distributing lunches. "An app?"

"Mhmm. Apparently, Chief Leonid got wind of your operation and decided the entire building should have access to your cooking." Sarah lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Word is, even the executives on the fiftieth floor are getting jealous."

Alia from reception chimed in, accepting her container with reverent hands. "The cafeteria filed a formal complaint yesterday. Something about ’unfair competition’, ’breach of commercial protocol’ and ’breach of contract.’"

"Not my problem," Neville said automatically, though his stomach twisted with anxiety. The last thing he needed was corporate drama interfering with his carefully balanced life. "Mr. Maxwell approved it."

"That’s what Bryan told them!" Alia grinned. "Apparently, the cafeteria manager turned three shades of red when Bryan pulled up the CEO’s approval signature and your additional contract."

Neville curled into a small smile as he loaded the robot with the executive orders. Today was different—he needed to make the delivery personally. Grayson had specifically requested that he bring lunch to an important meeting, something about planetary division heads joining via online hologram meeting.

The thought made his pulse quicken in that annoying way it always did when Grayson was involved. Neville still couldn’t quite suppress the flutter in his chest when those silver eyes looked at him.

Pathetic, he thought, adjusting his grip on the insulated bag.

Bryan intercepted him as he entered the executive section.

"Cafeteria filed a complaint," Bryan said with a bright smile, falling into step beside Neville.

Neville shrugged, channeling every ounce of nonchalance he could muster. "Heard it, but it’s not my problem. Ask your boss—he was the one who approved it."

Bryan’s smile widened. "I thought so too. But if they ask for cooperation, would you be willing?"

"Ask your boss for that."

The response came automatically, but Neville meant it. He wasn’t about to commit without knowing where Grayson stood.

Bryan’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as they approached Grayson’s office. "You know, I used to think you would continue to cower to those people. Turns out you’re just picking your battles."

"That’s called survival instinct," Neville muttered.

The office door slid open with a soft hiss. Grayson sat behind his massive desk, his silver eyes fixed on the holographic displays floating around him. There were at least six different screens, each showing different documents and data streams.

Neville was just looking at it, and he was already dizzy.

The sheer amount of information would have given him an immediate migraine, but Grayson’s expression remained focused, his gaze flicking between screens with practiced ease.

Can he really remember all that?

As if sensing their presence, Grayson’s eyes moved in their direction.

"Here." Grayson gestured to the space beside his desk.

Neville moved forward, setting the insulated container down with careful precision. Their fingers barely brushed against each other. Neville felt like that place had been burned and warmed his heart.

Since their last private conversation, things had been awkward. Not unbearably so, but enough that Neville found himself overthinking every interaction, analyzing every word Grayson spoke for hidden meaning.

The problem was that Neville couldn’t really remember if he had done anything offensive during his last drinking session. He had woken up in his own bed with a pounding headache and with a disaster-stricken room.

If Grayson just hadn’t said anything, he wouldn’t even have thought about who took him home that night. But since he did, and Bryan had a video of Grayson taking him home, Neville started to stress over it unnecessarily.

It made Neville want to simultaneously hide under his desk and demand answers.

One moment you assume something, the next you’re shooting yourself in the foot, he reminded himself firmly. Better to stay quiet and observe.

Grayson opened the container, and the rich aroma of braised meat and exotic spices filled the office. He ate with focused efficiency, occasionally glancing at the holographic screens as if monitoring multiple tasks simultaneously.

Bryan had settled into one of the visitor chairs, his own lunch untouched as he reviewed something on his light brain. The office fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft clink of utensils and the ambient hum of technology.

Neville had just started to relax when Grayson’s light brain chimed with an incoming call notification.

"Meeting starts at five," Bryan announced, already pulling up the connection protocols.

Neville gathered the empty containers, preparing to leave, but Grayson raised one hand.

"Stay. I’ll need you to deliver the report and the progress of the project."

Neville nodded and took his position slightly behind and to the left of Grayson’s chair.

The holographic displays changed, expanding to show a dozen different faces.

Planetary division heads, department directors, and even a few board members joined the call. Neville recognized most of them from previous meetings, though he had never spoken to them directly.

The meeting progressed with typical corporate efficiency. Reports were delivered, metrics were analyzed, and projections were debated. Neville waited for his cue, reviewing his notes on his light brain.

"Next, we have the operational summary of Project Aegis from the Xylos headquarters," Grayson said. "Hope?"