Loving Mr CEO
Aida's life is already complicated.
A controlling boyfriend.
A job that drains her.
A heart tired of giving more than it gets.
So the last thing she expects is Mike-the quiet, handsome "new trainee" who walks into the office with a mysterious calm and an unexpected kindness.
He's humble. Soft-spoken. Nothing like the men she's used to.
But something about him feels... different.
Dangerous.
Safe.
All at once.
As their friendship blooms, jealous eyes begin to watch.
Whispers spread.
Fake friends interfere.
And even Mike's family stands against them.
Two hearts drawn to each other.
One relationship already falling apart.
Secrets that can destroy everything.
In a company filled with gossip, power, and hidden agendas,
Aida and Mike must decide-
is this friendship worth the risk?
Or will the growing tension ruin them before they even begin?
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Chapter 9
Caleb
I was furious at this point Wasn't she the one begging me to calm down the other day, why was she now behaving like it don't matter anymore I brought out my phone and typed frantically. WE NEED TO TALK I watched her walk in with him and waited for her to sit before pressing send, while staring at her to make sure she read it. my eyes fixed on her face until I saw the slight stiffening of her shoulders. Good. She saw it. People were pretending not to look, but I could feel it. They won't ever mind their business,Even Francisca, two-eyed Francisca that should be focusing on fixing her eyesight instead of ruining it further, was watching. These office people lived for drama. Amebo was their full-time job.. . I could already imagine the whispers. Isn't that her boyfriend? Why is she with the trainee? Men are useless these days. I couldn't take my eyes off her throughout the day and surprisingly she didn't even notice me. Which was very new. Concentrating on my work was hard, I found my mind darting back to Mike. If he had been loud, cocky, obviously flirting, I would have known how to handle it. Men like that are predictable. But he's different, which is very dangerous. I told her not to smile at people like that. I told her. I picked up my phone, typed a message, deleted it. Typed again. Me: Why are you always letting people get into your space? No. Too soft. Delete. Me: I don't like the way you're moving lately. Still not enough. Delete. Mike stood up and walked straight into her cubicle. Was he doing this on purpose to piss me off? She was talking to him, using her hands. Explaining things very intensely . He leaned in slightly to hear her over the noise. Too close. Way too close. My chest burned. Did she think I couldn't see this? Does she think I'm stupid? I stood up again. Mercy passed by and gave me a look. The kind that said don't start. I ignored her. I wasn't starting anything. I was protecting what was mine. I entered her office and closed the door behind me " Excuse me," I said coldly, "I need to talk to my girlfriend." Aida looked up, startled. "Caleb-" "E be like this guy deaf o?" I walked closer to where he sat opposite Aida and dragged his chair back, the sound scraped loudly against the floor. The noise it made drew the attention of others in the office. "I'm not done here," I said flatly. "When I am, I'll leave." What annoyed me most was how calm he looked I didn't want to create anymore scenes so I walked over to the other side of the table where Aida sat and dragged her up. "Let's talk outside" Her eyes flashed with fear. Yes That's what I wanted As I tried dragging her more I noticed Mike had grabbed her other hand. My blood boiled Before I could react, Aida spoke quickly, her voice tight. "Please let go, I'll be back in a minute" she was talking to him. Why was she acting like a saint? I didn't care at this point. I made sure the next drag was harder than the first one, and it was. Within seconds we were outside her cubicle and into the hallway leading to the backyard. When we finally reached a quiet place. I raised my hand. For a split second, I saw it in her eyes, the flinch, the expectation. Like her body already knew what might come next. My hand froze mid-air. I clenched my fist instead, so tight my knuckles went white, my arm shaking with the effort it took not to bring it down. "Look at you," I said, my voice low and trembling with restraint. "You've reduced me to this." She stared at me, breathing shallow, one hand pressed to her chest. "What exactly is your problem?" I demanded. She was too stunned to speak. I know I promised not to hit her again but I think she deserved this one, if I was to hit her here. "Answer me"!!!!!!! That was when a tear dropped out of her eyes. "You don't talk to me like that," she said quietly. I leaned closer, lowering my voice. "You don't walk around the office like you're single." Her lips parted. She looked around, then back at me. "This is my workplace." "And I'm your boyfriend." "I didn't forget that." "Then start acting like it." "You know I don't like you spending time with other guys, and this time you're doing it in my presence, is it because you're higher than me in the office?." She exhaled sharply. "He's a trainee. I was asked to help him." "You enjoyed it." "That's not fair." Seems like the fear in her did resound her brain. She was more submissive now. I softened my tone, reached for her hand. She pulled it back. It didn't matter, I grabbed it back. "You know how people talk," I continued. "This office is not safe. People misinterpret things. I don't want your name involved in rubbish. "My name?" she echoed. "Or your ego?" At this point I was so sure I was glaring at her. "This is exactly what I'm talking about," I said. "You're changing." She was quiet again " I think we should continue this conversation at my place" I could sense her fear again. Now," I said calmly, releasing her hand, "go back inside. Smile. Act normal." I watched her walk away. No man was taking that from me. I arranged myself and quickly followed her. At least I'm still very much in control of my relationship.
I couldn't bring myself to admit that I was scared of losing her, so I opted for the very best option available, Control.
I need to control her, she seems to be forgetting that we started together and we must finish this together.
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9.5
"Do you know what marriage is?" Evelyn asked with a raised brow.
"Marriage is 'I do' and 'you do', then boom, children come in anytime they want," Drake replied with a cute smile.
"How do children come in?" She asked knowingly.
"Man and a woman call them," he replied foolishly.
"How do they call them?" She probed.
"Just like this..." He placed his phone to his ear.
"I already forgot that it's useless talking to you," Evelyn got annoyed and walked away
***
Twenty years old Evelyn Brown was forced to marry the son of the richest man in the country, Drake Valentino.
She thought her life was perfect, not until she was forced to get married to a man she barely knows because of money.
Evelyn had thought the arranged marriage wasn't bad as her groom was a handsome young man from a rich family, just like hers until she entered the marriage.
She was shocked into disbelief when she realized her husband wasn't as normal as she thought he was, he was a complete... Moron!
7.9
For ten years, I was the invisible backbone of the Silver Creek Pack.
I cooked the books to hide Alpha Ethan's gambling debts. I ghostwrote the peace treaties that kept our borders safe. I warmed his bed every night, waiting for the bite that would mark me as his Luna.
On the night of our tenth anniversary, I didn't get a ring.
I got replaced.
Ethan walked into the gala with Ashley, a wealthy heiress dripping in gold, clinging to his arm.
When I tried to speak to him, he didn't just ignore me. He used an Alpha Command—a biological weapon that hijacked my free will.
"Go to the kitchen," he ordered, forcing my knees to hit the floor in front of the entire pack. "Ashley is sensitive to the smell of stress. You're ruining her night."
He humiliated me in the house I helped build. He wore the crown I polished for him, thinking I was nothing more than a glorified housekeeper he could discard at will.
He forgot that while he held the title, I held the passwords.
I didn't go to the kitchen. I went to the office.
I initiated a permanent wipe of the cloud backups, reformatted the local servers, and deleted ten years of financial strategies.
Then, I snapped the mate bond and walked out into the rain.
Three days later, I walked back into the conference room.
Ethan laughed, thinking I was there to beg for my job back.
I threw a foreclosure contract onto the table.
"I'm not here to serve drinks, Ethan. I'm the new owner of your debt. Get out of my chair."
7.9
For five years, April Gamble loved Julian Travis with everything she had, trusting him completely.
But on a stormy night, he casually tossed a liquidation agreement at her feet, single-handedly destroying her grandfather's company.
He coldly admitted he only dated her to steal Vance Group's internal financial data.
"You were convenient," Julian said, swirling his whiskey without a shred of guilt.
Before April could even process the brutal betrayal, a breaking news alert lit up her phone.
She watched in absolute horror as her grandfather jumped from the ledge of the Vance Tower on live television.
Julian looked at her writhing, screaming form with utter boredom and simply ordered his bodyguard to throw her out.
Blinded by grief and tears, April sped into the torrential rain, only to be completely crushed by a hydroplaning transport truck at an intersection.
As the shattered glass tore into her skin and the metal crushed her ribs, she died with a hatred so pure it made her teeth ache.
Why did five years of devotion mean absolutely nothing to him? Why did her family have to die just to feed his ruthless greed?
When she opened her eyes again, the harsh hospital lights blinded her, but the familiar burn scar on her arm was gone.
She wasn't the betrayed financial analyst April Gamble anymore.
She had woken up in the body of Altagracia Blanchard, the most notorious, obscenely wealthy heiress in New York.
Julian had taken everything from her, but now, armed with a billionaire's empire, she was going to bury him.
8.7
I stood as a ghost, watching the rhythmic thud of dirt hitting my own casket. My father, Senator Ellwood, dabbed his eyes for the cameras while my stepmother, Carroll, played the grieving mother perfectly, even though they were the ones who had paved the way for my murder.
The vision shifted to a high-rise office where Isadore Walker, the terrifying "Shadow Regent," was methodically bankrupting every elite family that had betrayed me. He pressed a silver koi fish necklace to his lips and triggered a massive explosion, choosing to burn the entire world down just to join me in death.
"Little Fish," he whispered.
In my first life, I was a naive pawn who believed my best friend, Catarina, when she claimed I simply slipped into the pool at my Debutante Ball. I let the opportunistic Cody Stevens play the hero who "saved" me, leading to a hollow engagement that ended in my ruin. I never knew that my stepmother had conspired with our housekeeper to hide my true identity and keep me from my biological family.
I died without ever understanding why Isadore, a man who treated me with cold indifference, would sacrifice everything for my sake. I didn't know that my entire life was a web of kidnappings and bribes designed to keep me as a political pawn.
Suddenly, the heat of the explosion warped into the agonizing burn of icy water. I broke the surface, gasping for air, back at the very party where my downfall began three years ago.
As I climbed out, I didn't look for Cody’s help. I wrapped myself in Isadore’s sandalwood-scented jacket and felt the cold steel of the tactical knife he had left in the pocket. This time, I wasn't the victim; I was the one who would light the fuse.
9.2
I woke up in a blindingly white hotel penthouse with a throbbing headache and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. The last thing I remembered was my stepsister, Cathie, handing me a flute of champagne at the charity gala with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Now, a tall, dangerously handsome man walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. On the nightstand sat a stack of hundred-dollar bills. My stepmother had finally done it-she drugged me and staged a scandal with a hired escort to destroy my reputation and my future.
"Aisha! Is it true you spent the night with a gigolo?" The shouts of a dozen reporters echoed through the heavy oak door as camera flashes exploded through the peephole. My phone lit up with messages showing my bank accounts were already frozen. My father was invoking the 'morality clause' in my mother's trust fund, and my fiancé had already released a statement dumping me to marry my stepsister instead.
I was trapped, penniless, and being hunted by the press for a scandal I hadn't even participated in. My own family had sold me out for a payday, and the man standing in front of me was the only witness who could prove I was innocent-or finish me off for good.
I didn't have time to cry. According to the fine print of the trust, I had thirty days to prove my "rehabilitation" through a legal marriage or I would lose everything.
I tracked the man down to a coffee shop the next morning, watching him take a thick envelope of cash from a wealthy older woman. I sat across from him and slid a napkin with a $50,000 figure written on it.
"I need a husband. Legal, paper-signed, and convincing."
He looked at the number, then at me, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. I thought I was hiring a desperate gigolo to save my inheritance. I had no idea I was actually proposing to Dominic Fields, the reclusive billionaire shark who was currently planning a hostile takeover of my father's entire empire.
8.0
I spent six years as a "shadow asset" for the Holmes family, a brilliant scholar living in a cramped Queens apartment on a secret scholarship. I was their silent investment, a ghost in their machine, until the day a fluorescent orange eviction notice appeared on my door.
The legal documents from Holmes Holdings were brutal. They were terminating my sponsorship and demanding immediate repayment of every cent of my tuition. The reason was buried in the fine print: a moral turpitude clause. I was pregnant with a Holmes heir, and in their world, that made me a liability that needed to be erased.
Ingram Holmes, the family’s cold-blooded CEO, didn't see a woman; he saw a line item on a balance sheet. He offered me a million dollars to disappear, abort the child, and sign away my existence. He had me escorted to a private clinic like a criminal, ready to finalize my erasure. But the plan shattered when his grandmother, the matriarch of the family, collapsed in a sudden cardiac arrest.
As the doctors failed, I stepped out of the shadows. I diagnosed the toxicity they couldn't see and brought her back from the brink of death. I wasn't the helpless charity case they expected. I was a genius who knew their medical secrets better than their own surgeons.
"Who are you?" Ingram growled, pinning me against a desk in his frozen office.
I didn't blink. I had just secured the family's ancient signet ring and a seat at their table. Now, I’m living in his manor, sharing his bed, and holding the keys to the vault that contains their darkest sins.
"I'm the problem you can't afford to solve," I whispered.
The game has changed. I’m no longer the asset—I’m the hunter.