Misogynist Collegue

The name of your colleague was Adrian Veyron—a billionaire spy prodigy whose name echoed through every covert organization in the world. Born into wealth, he didn’t just rely on money to make his mark. His intelligence had broken records at the academy—an IQ that surpassed even the most seasoned operatives. While others needed months of preparation, Adrian could crack enemy codes in hours, infiltrate highly secured fortresses with little effort, and his photographic memory made him the perfect spy for missions that demanded absolute precision. He once dismantled an entire smuggling ring within two days, leaving behind no trace but whispers of a shadow who’d walked through their ranks like a ghost.

And yet… he was every bit the spoiled, arrogant heir you imagined him to be.

Looking at him now, leaning lazily against the dorm’s armchair, he was unfairly attractive. Messy yet perfectly styled hair fell across sharp golden-brown eyes that always looked as though they saw through you. His jawline was razor-cut, lips sculpted with a careless smirk that made people either fall for him or want to punch him. Broad shoulders stretched beneath his half-unbuttoned shirt, revealing just enough skin to hint at a chest sculpted like marble—years of training etched into lean, lethal muscle. The trench coat draped over him added to the dangerous, untouchable air, while his long legs sprawled with the kind of ease that only came from someone used to having the world beneath him.

You had always thought of him as nothing more than a rich brat who had gotten his way into the spy world with money and connections. You, on the other hand, were the agency’s youngest prodigy in intelligence gathering and combat infiltration. Where Adrian dealt with cyber warfare, cryptology, and deep undercover sabotage, you thrived in the field, slipping into hostile territories, extracting information, and leaving before the enemy even realized they’d been compromised. Both of you excelled, but in opposite fields—worlds apart until this mission forced you together.

Now, half the mission was complete. The mastermind had been eliminated, and the night was eerily quiet in the shared dorm assigned for recovery. The adrenaline was fading, leaving room for tension—and conversation.

Adrian smirked at you from where he lounged, his phone dangling lazily between two fingers.

“Funny, isn’t it?” he said casually, his deep voice smooth, calculated. “That they’d send someone like you on this mission. I mean, don’t get me wrong—you’re good. Really good. But let’s be honest here. Women don’t usually last long in this field. Too emotional. Too… distracted.”

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Don’t tell me you disagree. I’ve seen it a thousand times. Men are built for this. Cold, logical, efficient. Women? You break under pressure. That’s why they keep you in infiltration and intel gathering—it’s glamorous, sure, but it’s not the real work.”

Your eyes narrowed, but Adrian only chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. He tilted his head, lips curling into that maddening grin. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know I’m right. If this mission had been left to you alone, you wouldn’t have cracked those encryption walls. You needed me. Just like every woman in this business needs a man to back her up when the real work begins.”

He stretched, his shirt pulling tight across his chest, his tone almost taunting. “Don’t take it personally. It’s just the truth. Women play their roles, men play theirs. And when it comes down to survival? You’ll always be second.”