"Cold Boss Is My Masked Daddy" Chapter 10
Nobody saw that coming.
The entire comment section short-circuited.
How could anyone not like Orca?
But @WorkIsKillingMe really had blocked him ages ago.
LittlePenguin’s accusations started sounding a lot less convincing after that.
And the fandom turned on itself almost immediately.
A lot of Orca fans already hated LittlePenguin.
Especially the people sick of him calling himself Orca’s “wife” every other post.
The timeline exploded.
People fighting.
Dragging old screenshots back up.
Mutuals turning on each other.
Nobody cared about Julian anymore.
Julian usually ignored internet drama.
This one landed directly in his lap.
So naturally, he kept scrolling.
Right when things got good, Luke walked over.
“Get ready. Samuel’s taking you to a meeting.”
Julian locked his phone with visible pain and followed him downstairs.
Waiting for the elevator, a different scent drifted over.
Warm citrus.
Wood.
Julian looked up automatically.
New cologne?
Didn’t smell like Samuel at all.
Too warm.
“What?”
Samuel glanced down at him.
Same cold expression.
Julian looked away.
“What do you need me to do at the meeting?”
“Nothing.”
The elevator doors opened.
“Just listen.”
Julian: “……”
Then why bring him?
Half an hour later, the car stopped outside the Ministry of Finance building.
Closed-door meeting.
High-level.
Regulators.
Economists.
Government advisors.
People whose names showed up in newspapers every other week.
Even Samuel sat near the end of the table.
Julian didn’t get a seat at all.
Back row only.
Assistants.
Secretaries.
Media staff.
He didn’t dare touch his phone once.
By the time the meeting finally ended, his brain felt half-dead.
The second they got back into the car, he unlocked his screen again.
Then Samuel’s voice cut through the silence beside him.
“Why are you calling me?”
A pause.
Then quieter—
“What happened?”
Julian looked up immediately.
Samuel was on the phone.
And Julian had never heard that tone before.
“Take a breath.”
“I’m here.”
“Tell me.”
Low.
Steady.
Patient.
Julian lowered his eyes automatically.
Private call.
Not his business.
Still—
he kept listening.
Something shifted in Samuel’s expression while the other person spoke.
Jaw tightening slightly.
Eyes darkening.
“I understand.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“He’s fine.”
“Leave it to me.”
Then the call ended.
Silence settled back into the car.
Julian grabbed his phone again just to have something to look at.
Notifications flooded the screen.
unblock Orca
check his account
you missed something
Julian frowned and opened the block list.
A new post sat at the top of Orca’s page.
@Orca: Hello.
I was informed that some people have been attacking you in my name.
That was never my intention.
I’m sorry this happened.
If you’re comfortable, please contact me privately. I’d like to compensate you for the trouble.
Julian blinked.
An apology?
Seriously?
He stared at the screen for a few seconds before replying publicly.
@WorkIsKillingMe: i accept the apology
but i want public apologies from LittlePenguin and everyone harassing me too
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pin them for three months
otherwise i’ll see them in court
The reply came almost immediately.
@Orca: Apologizing to you is the least I should do.
But I can’t speak for them.
I can help on the legal side.
Julian stared at the screen.
What the hell did that mean?
Was Orca baiting him?
Or actually trying to help?
Julian didn’t really want lawsuits.
He barely had time to sleep.
Dragging strangers through court sounded exhausting.
And if things got serious, his real-life identity probably wouldn’t stay hidden either.
Absolutely not.
A few legal warnings would've been enough.
Not something he could explain publicly, though.
So he opened private messages instead.
The car slowed at a red light.
Julian glanced sideways automatically—
and froze.
Samuel was already looking at him.
“Boss,” Julian said carefully, “did you need something?”
Samuel said nothing.
Looked away again.
Julian opened the chat window.
@WorkIsKillingMe: a lot of your fans look young
some are probably minors
i’ll let it go if they apologize
lawsuits are unnecessary
A notification sound rang through the car.
Julian nearly jumped.
Fuck.
Hadn’t he muted his phone?
No.
Wait.
The sound came from beside him.
Slowly, carefully, he looked up.
Samuel lowered his own phone volume to vibrate.
Julian: “……”
Right.
Of course Samuel used social media too.
Julian looked back down.
A new reply waited on the screen.
@Orca: Whatever you’re comfortable with.
@WorkIsKillingMe: LittlePenguin probably won’t cooperate though
@Orca: Leave that to me.
Julian stared for a second.
Then typed again.
@WorkIsKillingMe: fine
what about the compensation?
The typing bubble appeared instantly.
@Orca: 200,000 USD.
Julian almost dropped the phone.
Jesus Christ.
@WorkIsKillingMe: you serious?
why compensate me at all
@Orca: This situation started because of me.
Ignoring it wouldn’t be fair to you.
My younger brother likes your work very much.
I’d rather see the money help you create more of it.
Julian stared at the screen a little longer than before.
Heat crept slowly up his neck.
@WorkIsKillingMe: you rich rich huh
@Orca: I do.
Julian looked down at the blinking cursor.
Then typed:
@WorkIsKillingMe: make it 400k then
@Orca: Okay.
Send me your payment information.
The car slowed gradually.
Apex Tower rose outside the window.
Four hundred thousand.
Enough for a better apartment.
A new laptop.
A real camera.
Dresses without checking the price tag first.
Julian stared at the chat window.
Then finally typed:
@WorkIsKillingMe: thank you for the offer
if you really want to compensate me
donate the money to the Free Lunch Foundation instead
under the name “all followers of @WorkIsKillingMe”
help rural kids eat better lunches
A second later—
the message showed as read.
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