The Cold-Hearted CEO's Reborn Lover

‘Cal…’ he muttered under his breath, and memories he hadn’t dared touch in years surged forward, crashing over him like a river long buried, carrying the ache, the warmth, and the weight of a past he thought he had lost.” “What else can I serve you?” she asked again, a small smile curling at the corners of her lips. Calvin was both surprised and confused by her sudden change. His eyes stayed fixed on her as she spoke, this was not the same aura she had carried six years ago before they had parted. Simultaneously, Cleopatra picked a crimson grape and held it out to him, her fingers brushing delicately against his, inviting him to take it from her. “Try this crimson grape,” she said, holding it out. “It’s healthy and will give you a boost of energy.” In an instant, Calvin seized her hand, halting her attempt to feed him the grape. “What is this?!” he demanded, his tone so cold it seemed to slice through the room. “Are you merely doing your job, or messing with me?!” “I’m merely serving you,” she replied, her calm demeanor contrasting sharply with his icy glare. “Is this how you serve everyone else?” His tone was sharp and demanding, laced with jealousy. “No, no. I only set the table and leave. I’m not an escort, but for you, I want to serve you beyond that.” He spoke with a frosty calm. “Serve me, but nothing more.” One leg crossed over the other, he leaned back, watching her carefully. At the same moment Cleopatra caught the glimpse of his coldness but couldn't know if he was still angry at her about choosing Anthony or if he move on from her but she wouldn't budge and pressed forward “Okay if you insist, your glass is empty I will pour you some wine” She poured the wine into the glass and gave it to him intentionally, letting her hand brush against his. Their eyes met and like magnetic force not wanting to pull away from each other. “How is work going? I know it's coming late to congratulate you for being the CEO of INK Model” her eyes still locked into his as says those words to him Meanwhile, his eyes were glued to her pouty lips as she spoke, every word igniting something fierce within him. He swallowed hard, struggling to choke back the storm of desire and frustration swirling through his chest. “Sure so now I’m finally getting congratulations, four years after becoming CEO,” he smirked, tossing his head aside with playful exasperation. In an instant, she caught his hand with both of hers, pouting like a child as if silently pleading. “I’m sorry for hurting you back then. I know there’s no excuse for how I behaved, but I’m truly sorry for everything.” Her eyes drooped, heavy with sorrow. She knew Calvin had every reason to treat her coldly. After all, she had inflicted pain by pushing him away and letting Anthony take her choice. “I know I was too foul-mouthed with you and with Anthony—” The mere mention of Anthony sent fire through every fiber of his being, and he stopped her mid sentence His voice dripped with fury. “Don’t you dare speak his name in front of me! Do you miss him so much that you have to say it right in my face?!” His hand clasped hers with a force that made her heart skip. His jaw clenched, eyes burning like fire, and every fiber of his being radiated tension at the sound of that name. She froze for a moment, then lightly patted his hand, her voice trembling. “No… no! I didn’t mean it that way,” she whispered, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “We… we didn’t even—” Suddenly, the door flew open, and Smith strode in, cutting through the chaos outside. Every pair of eyes instantly turned toward him. “Chairman! Miss Guinevere is here, she insists on being let in!” Cleopatra knew exactly what all the fuss was about. “Let her in,” she commanded. Smith turned to Calvin, eyes waiting for his orders. “It’s alright. Do as she said,” he said, waving his hand. Smith opened the door and ushered Guinevere inside, then stepped out of the room. As Guinevere stepped inside, the sight struck her like a bolt of lightning. Cleopatra and Calvin sat dangerously close, drawn together like an unbreakable magnet and iron. Her heart plunged, sinking straight into her chest. “Hi, Cleo. I’ve been trying to reach you on the phone, but you weren’t answering,” she said, walking in and intentionally attempting to seat herself between them. Cleopatra reacted instantly, stopping her in her tracks and steering her away, firmly settling her into the chair opposite them. “Guinevere, you really shouldn’t inconvenience a VIP,” Cleopatra said coolly. “Please, remain seated there.” The words were smooth and polite, yet beneath them ran a sharp current of mockery, striking with quiet, precise force. “What are you talking about? A VIP?” Guinevere scoffed. “It’s Calvin, he’s my CEO.” Cleopatra paid no mind to Guinevere. Her fingers grazed a grape as she lifted it from the bowl, eyes fixed on Calvin with a mischievous, almost daring intensity. Slowly, deliberately, she brought it to his lips, the space between them humming with unspoken tension. “Open your mouth, Cal,” she purred, her voice dripping with sultry mischief. “Let me tempt you, let me treat you sweetly.” Then, with a poised elegance, she turned her attention to Guinevere. “He may be your CEO,” Cleopatra murmured, her eyes smoldering with a dangerous, irresistible allure, “but in my domain he’s mine.” Her smirk lingered, sharp and teasing, cutting through the air like a blade. “Isn’t it only proper to indulge my clients? After all, would it not be unbearably rude to interrupt?” Calvin stood frozen, a storm of confusion and desire swirling within him as their words volleyed back and forth. Every glance, every subtle movement was etched into his mind, yet his lips remained sealed, his body still a silent observer caught in the electric tension between them. Guinevere’s eyes widened in shock, stunned that Cleopatra could look her dead in the eye and speak such audacious words. “Ah, right,” Guinevere said softly. “I suppose it wouldn’t be respectful to interfere with your work.” Her composure was strained, barely holding. “Bingo!” Cleopatra’s voice rang out, her head tilting toward Calvin’s shoulder, slow and charged with an undeniable electricity. “Indeed, escorts are always possessive of their clients, not just one,” Guinevere said, her eyes blazing as they locked onto Cleopatra’s. “Can you really call your manager a model?” Cleopatra asked, her tone sharp and laced with challenge. “Of course not!” Guinevere snapped. "Good,” Cleopatra said, her tone laced with teasing disdain. “Seems your two brain cells are still managing to function.” “You—” Cleopatra cut her off sharply, her gaze unwavering. “It’s the same here. There’s a difference between a server and an escort,” she said, her tone sharp and unwavering. As anger surged through her, Guinevere snatched a glass of wine and downed it in a single, defiant gulp. Another chime echoed through the room as Alvin burst in, carrying two cans. “I apologize, Mr. Ink. We ran out of citrus freshener, so we rushed to get more,” he said, motioning as his staff placed the cans with meticulous precision. “I hope the service meets your standards. Please, inform me if anything displeases you.” His sharp gaze sliced through the lingering tension in the room. “Very well. Enjoy your evening,” he said, bowing gracefully before departing with his staff. “You shouldn’t drink so much, do you want to ruin that flawless skin of yours?” Cleopatra’s voice dripped with playful scorn, her eyes flashing like sparks. “Honestly, bestie, I’m still on duty, I’ll get back to your call later.” Cleopatra stepped closer, her voice a soft whisper. “You just go on ahead, alright?” She gently guided her toward the open space. Guinevere grabbed her immediately, her voice trembling in a whisper. “What’s going on? Are you cool with Calvin now?” “I don’t remember ever not being cool with him,” Cleopatra replied smoothly. “I’ve got work to do, bestie. Bye for now.” She closed the door behind her and turned, striding toward Calvin with a bright, teasing smile. “Aren’t you two supposed to be cool?” he asked, confusion flickering across his face. You shouldn't concern yourself with her, okay?” Cleopatra murmured, stretching out her hand to caress his cheek. After serving Calvin a few drinks, he rose, only for Cleopatra to stop him, holding out her phone. “Please… please can you input your number?” she asked, eyes locked on him. Calvin, masking his hesitation, muttered, “Sure,” and typed in his number before giving her a nod and a brief goodbye. Stepping outside, he turned to Smith, “Settle the bills and meet me in the car.” He left without a moment’s hesitation, his guards flanking him like shadows. Calvin slid into the car, and a few minutes later, Smith took the driver’s seat. Calvin’s gaze lingered on the call window, his hand folded beneath his chin, sharp and focused, until he finally broke the silence in a measured, commanding voice. “Hire a skilled investigator. I want everything about Cleopatra uncovered, leave no stone unturned.”