Four Hot CEOs Are Obsessed With My Face

The refined man had once told her, “If you can’t handle it, come to me.” His voice had been soft then—nothing like the detached tone he’d used on their last call. Of course, those words were meant for Lila Roberts, not Makenzie Bell.

As the driver was leaving, he said, “No one usually stays here, but Mr. Mason has arranged for a chef to come by. You can ask for whatever you want, Miss Bell.”

Makenzie took in the luxurious villa, though she stayed put in the living room. The decor was a minimalist mix of wood and gray tones—cold, empty, almost completely lifeless.

Until she got an official invitation, Makenzie held off on exploring further. She settled onto the sofa to wait.

With time to kill, she scrolled through the negative press about herself online. The top trending topic was Kristen Bell’s glamorous marriage into high society. Two related headlines followed: one accused Makenzie of pushing Kristen into the water—which Kristen had graciously chosen to overlook—and another painted Makenzie as desperately begging Jason not to end things.

Reading the nasty comments made her grimace.

“Makenzie Bell is the worst. We hope she gets kicked out of the Bell family so she can’t hurt our sweet Kristen anymore!”

“She’s just a gold digger clinging to Jason because he’s her last meal ticket. Greed is literally in her blood.”

“Poor Kristen—growing up away from her family, only to be tormented by a nobody.”

“Makenzie should just vanish. Like, literally disappear!”

Makenzie’s ruined reputation was tangled up with Kristen’s rise in the entertainment world. Theo had saved her from prison, but he hadn’t lifted a finger to manage her public image. Without her laptop, she couldn’t upload the recording yet, so there was nothing she could do right now.

Makenzie turned off her phone, yawned, and decided to nap on the couch.

By eight that evening, a sleek Maybach rolled up outside the villa. Amari Wilson glanced sideways. “We just got word that the chef was in a car accident on the way here. He’s in the hospital.”

“Should we find someone else?” he asked, unsure what Theo Mason was thinking. The man’s face was still hidden in shadow.

Theo looked out at the villa. No lights. He considered it for a few seconds, then said, “No need.”

He stepped onto the porch. The moment he opened the door, a warm light flickered on, spilling from the entryway into the living room and faintly lighting the woman curled up on the sofa.

Theo walked over. Makenzie was asleep, her neckline slightly open, exposing the slender pale line of her throat as she slept deeply.

He crouched down and studied her peaceful face. The words he’d once said so casually now felt like a promise he couldn’t take back. Up close, her features really were exactly his type.

Makenzie stirred in her sleep as something brushed lightly against her eyelids. Instinctively, she reached out and caught a cool fingertip, ready to swat it away—when System 66 blared in her mind, “It’s Theo Mason! He’s looking at you and thinking about someone else! Don’t push him away! According to the script, you should pretend to be all sleepy and disoriented—this is when you look most like the heroine.”

The promise of money was as tempting as ever. She loosened her grip, let out a soft murmur, and let her eyelids flutter half open.

Through the blur, she made out a handsome face and murmured sweetly, almost dreamily, “Mr. Mason? You’re back?”

Theo’s long lashes flickered. His elegant face went still for a moment.

In the dim light, her hazy eyes mirrored the ones in his memory—innocent and sweet, like a lost lamb looking for affection.

His cool thumb brushed the corner of Makenzie’s eye, and his voice came out surprisingly warm. “Why didn’t you go upstairs to sleep?”

“I didn’t know which room was mine,” Makenzie mumbled, shrinking back and leaning away, her fingers still wrapped around his. “Stop—it’s ticklish.”

Theo hesitated, then pulled his hand back, subtly pressing his thumb and forefinger together.

Makenzie slowly sat up. Her hand accidentally hit the remote beside her, and bright light flooded the room, fully revealing the man’s face.

Now fully awake, she was stunned for a second. If Jason counted as charming, then Theo was the definition of mature male beauty—a total powerhouse of a man.

He looked like he’d just come from work, perfectly dressed in a custom dark suit that showed off broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His deep-set eyes and strong nose gave him a face that looked carved by the gods—flawless in every way.

Makenzie looked into his eyes, which still held an unguarded tenderness. She knew he was seeing someone else through her—and internally, she was cheering.

This was a win! Not only would she get paid, she’d also have this exceptional man for company. Paradise, indeed.

The sudden light shattered the illusion. Theo stood, his gaze cold again. “I’m rarely here. You can sleep in whatever room you want.”

“I understand.” Makenzie sat up, her face a little flushed. “About your earlier offer—does it still stand?”

“It does.”

Theo looked down at her, the light casting perfect shadows across his face. His tone was flat but firm. “I need a partner. Discreet. Unnamed. Would you agree, Miss Bell?”

“I wouldn’t have come if I had another option, Mr. Mason,” Makenzie said with a smile. “You’re the only one who offered me a lifeline when everyone else turned against me. Of course I agree—but I have two small conditions.”

Her conditions piqued his interest. Theo sat down and pulled a cigarette from its pack. “Speak.”

“A two-year term. I, Makenzie Bell, am willing to accept this arrangement, but during that time, I want a salary.”

Theo paused mid-motion, surprise flickering in his eyes.

Plenty of women would have done anything for a place in his bed, and here she was negotiating wages—like he was hiring an employee.

Makenzie kept her professional demeanor. “Even if this is an unconventional, high-paying job, we should have clear terms. You provide material support, and I offer companionship—ready to serve you at any time.”

Theo set the cigarette aside, his eyes fixed on her. “You’re in dire need?”

“Completely broke,” Makenzie said with an honest nod. “I don’t have a cent to my name. But I’ll only take payment for my efforts—ten thousand a month, not including benefits. I’ll handle those myself. Does that work for you?”

Theo watched her as if she were sitting in a job interview. He said nothing.

“All right.”

After a moment, he lit his cigarette. “We both get what we want.”

System 66 chimed in: “You’ve received $100,000. Theo Mason’s favorability increased by two percent. He seems to appreciate your pragmatism.”