Our CEO Daddy! Triplets in a Mission

Griffin watched Harte as she walked toward the man, whose smile stretched from ear to ear. A humorless laugh escaped him when the guy suddenly pulled Harte into a hug-and what irritated him even more was that Harte didn't push him away. She simply let it happen.

He had never seen her this close to any guy before.

This was the first time.

An unfamiliar heat stirred in Griffin's chest as he watched the two of them together.

When the man noticed him staring, he whispered something into Harte's ear that Griffin couldn't hear. Harte glanced back at him, her brows instantly knitting together before she gestured with her chin for him to leave already and stop butting in.

Annoyed, Griffin turned on his heel and left the two of them inside the store. He climbed into his car and sped all the way back to the mansion.

The moment he arrived, he found his father, Darius, standing outside. The serious look on the older man's face immediately made Griffin step out of the car and approach him.

"Dad," he called.

Without saying a word, Darius handed his phone over and showed Griffin a text message.

"They need you at the office. The new materials from Spain finally arrived. Check them yourself."

Griffin nodded in response. Even though he was still irritated by what he had seen at the convenience store, business came first.

Darius gave his son a pat on the shoulder, and Griffin immediately headed inside to change into more formal clothes before driving straight to Meridian Investment Partners.

His secretary, Madonna, greeted him the moment he stepped into the building lobby. The urgency on her face reflected how important the newly arrived shipment was.

"Where are the items?" Griffin asked authoritatively without slowing his pace toward the elevator.

"They're already in your office, sir," the woman replied, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

Griffin loosened his necktie slightly before stepping into the elevator.

The shipment consisted of high-grade obsidian and rare marble tiles that would be used for their newest luxury corporate skyscraper project in Bonifacio Global City. The materials would define the image of their premium office spaces, which was why Griffin insisted on personally inspecting the quality himself.

The moment he entered his office, he immediately began examining the materials.

This was already the supplier's second shipment. He had rejected the first one outright because of its poor quality. Although this batch was noticeably better than the last, it still failed to meet his exacting standards.

"Tell them to send all of this back. This is not what I asked for," Griffin said sharply through clenched teeth as he pointed at the samples. "Tell them to find something that matches the sample I gave exactly. And if they can't do that, then let them know we'll start looking for a new supplier."

Madonna immediately pulled out her phone and called the Supplier Manager. Griffin could clearly hear the tension in their conversation while he waited for an answer.

"They said they'll try to find materials identical to the sample you provided, sir," Madonna reported after ending the call. "But they're asking for another month to produce it."

"Another d*mn month?! This project has already been delayed for two f*ck*ng months because of their incompetence!" Griffin snapped as he slammed himself back into his chair.

Madonna quickly called the supplier again to relay Griffin's ultimatum-half a month, or the contract was over.

When she ended the call, a seductive smile slowly appeared on the secretary's lips. She walked closer and perched herself on top of Griffin's luxurious desk, deliberately showing off her long legs.

"You look stressed, sir. Did something happen before you got here?" she asked sweetly.

As she spoke, her hand slowly slid over her chest, gently caressing herself in front of him.

Madonna had been working for him for two years. And during those two years, whenever Griffin lost his temper, she was always the one who calmed him down. He had never forced her into anything-she had been the one to make the first move and show interest in him.

"Nothing happened," Griffin answered stiffly.

His eyes stayed fixed on Madonna's hand as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a black lace bra barely capable of containing her curves.

Griffin's restraint snapped instantly.

He rose abruptly from his swivel chair and captured Madonna in a rough, hungry kiss. His hand gripped her chest firmly as he felt the rapid pounding of her heart beneath his palm.

"Ah... S-Sir... easy..." Madonna whimpered breathlessly between kisses.

But Griffin wasn't in the mood to be gentle.

He turned Madonna toward the desk and positioned her with her back facing him. With a rough tug, he pulled down her skirt and underwear.

"Lean on the table. Don't move," he ordered in a low, commanding voice.

When it was over, Griffin leaned back against his desk, finally feeling lighter, as though all the irritation from earlier-both from work and from Harte-had disappeared.

He didn't stay long at the office after that. Once his lust had subsided, he left everything for Madonna to handle and headed out. He wasn't in the mood to return to the mansion, so he decided to drive straight back to his condo instead.

As he drove along the dimly lit road, he noticed the familiar white van once again in his rearview mirror.

It was the same vehicle he had seen earlier before heading to the mansion.

"Persistent bastards," he muttered as he stepped harder on the gas.

But in an instant, the van sped up as well and slammed into the back of his sports car without warning. Griffin's vehicle lurched violently out of balance, and before he could recover, the van rammed into his side again.

Then came the rapid gunfire.

The windows shattered as bullets tore through the body of his car. While trying to dodge the attack, Griffin lost control of the steering wheel completely. His car veered off the road and flipped several times before finally coming to a stop, completely wrecked.

Griffin hung upside down inside the crushed vehicle.

The world spun around him, and the only thing he could hear was the roaring of his own blood in his ears. He tried to move, but a blinding surge of pain shot through his leg.

A sharp piece of metal from the mangled chassis had pierced through him. He could feel the warmth of blood steadily pouring from the wound.

He fought to stay conscious, but darkness slowly began swallowing him whole.

Before his eyes finally closed, he saw the silhouettes of several men stepping out of the white van and walking toward the wreckage.