Today, I wasn't in the mood to work. The weight of responsibilities felt heavier than usual, pressing against my temples. But as a businessman—no, as the CEO—I couldn't afford to slack off. Discipline was what kept the empire running. So, like every other morning, I woke up at my usual time, got dressed, and headed out.
Still, one thought kept clawing at the back of my mind.
Emma.
Our last encounter had left a lasting mark—one that my body hadn't quite recovered from. The tension between us had nearly driven me over the edge, and today, the risk of it replaying itself loomed large. I knew she'd be at the forefront of today's product launch shoot. That meant we'd cross paths, and I wasn't sure I could keep my composure this time.
I deliberately stalled in the car. The delay was strategic. I convinced myself it was business-related—I was checking her claims about the marketing strategy on social media, after all. Sure enough, she was right. Multiple brands had started leveraging organic engagement and influencer-led campaigns. She had a sharp mind, and I couldn't help but admire that.
As the engine hummed quietly beneath me, I cracked the window open slightly. Cool air rushed in, but it did little to quiet my thoughts. My mind betrayed me once more—her face flashing across my consciousness, the way her skin might feel under my fingertips. Her presence wasn't just intoxicating; it was unraveling something deep within me. Something I didn't understand.
I must have drifted into a daze because it wasn't long before my driver gently nudged me back to reality.
"Sir, we're almost at the office," Taylor said, but there was something odd in his tone. "Is it just me, or are those police cars leaving our building?"
That jolted me upright.
"What?" I asked sharply, peering through the window. Sure enough, a cluster of police vehicles was pulling away from our main building. One of the last officers—a woman—stepped out and headed toward a cruiser, her expression unreadable.
"Drive to the underground lot," I ordered.
Taylor didn't question it. We pulled into the executive section beneath the tower, and I entered through my private elevator, mind racing. Why had the police been here? What warranted their presence?
As the elevator rose, I caught snippets of hushed voices outside my office. Secretaries whispering. One name floated into my ears, clear as day.
Emma.
My pulse kicked up. What the hell had happened?
I pushed open the door to my office and immediately dialed Charles from IT.
"Good morning, Mr. Allan," he said, but his body language was telling—nervous, anxious. He stood stiff, fingers clenched at his sides.
"I need surveillance footage. From this morning. Now."
"Yes, sir. I'll email it right away."
He scurried out. Moments later, a notification popped up on my screen. I clicked the link.
What I saw on that footage wasn't the same shy, anxious Emma I'd come to expect. No, this version of her was different. Confident. Poised. Powerful. She walked with purpose. She handled the situation with composure, even as the police asked questions. I watched, transfixed, my mind spiraling again. There was something inexplicably magnetic about this side of her.
I shut the laptop and stormed into the apartment attached to my office. A cold shower was the only way to douse the heat rising beneath my skin. She was beginning to grow on me, and fast.
With minimal work lined up for the day, I decided to check in on the shoot. Maybe seeing her in that professional setting would remind me to keep a boundary.
When I arrived at the shooting location, Bertha was adjusting the lighting rigs. She turned and lit up when she saw me.
"Well, well, the CEO graces us with his presence," she teased, walking over. "Come, sit. But don't scare off my new model."
"I just wanted to see how my employee is adapting," I replied.
She raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look.
"Don't give me that stare," I muttered. "I'm being serious."
Bertha laughed. "Okay, okay. But stay invisible. She's finally settling in."
She was one of the few people I allowed to speak freely with me. She'd stood by me when I had nothing—offering insight, comfort, even scolding when needed. She was family, even if not by blood.
The energy in the studio shifted. Everyone was focused now. I, however, was completely caught in watching Emma work. She was mesmerizing. Every movement, every glance, exuded elegance. Her professionalism was unmatched. The way her hair caught the breeze, the light reflecting off her flawless skin—it was almost too much.
For a moment, I hated the way others looked at her. Lust in their eyes. I clenched my jaw.
She looked my way and gave a slight bow—a subtle, respectful gesture that somehow felt royal. Regal. My feet moved before I even made the decision.
"Good morning, Mr. Allan. Is there something I can help you with?" she asked politely.
That formality stung.
"I'm hungry," I said. "Join me for lunch."
It came out more like a command than an invitation, but she nodded without hesitation.
The ride to the restaurant was quiet. She looked out the window, and I followed her gaze as it landed on an ice cream truck.
"How about some ice cream first?" I asked, catching the way her lips twitched in surprise.
"But… what if I make you late for a meeting? It's an honor to have lunch with you, sir, but I wouldn't want to waste your time," she said sweetly.
"That's the point. I don't have meetings today. And I'm taking you out as a thank-you—for everything you've done for the company."
She smiled, and the ice finally cracked.
"Well, I guess I should do more favors for this company if it means I get to have civil conversations with you."
I chuckled, guilt crawling into my chest.
"I'm sorry for how I treated you before," I said sincerely. "Maybe we can be friends?"
She turned, her eyes sparkling. "Only if you won't regret it—I'm the type to take friendship very seriously."
Her presence calmed something inside me. For the first time in a long time, I felt… alive.
The restaurant was peaceful, the soft music making the private room feel intimate. We ate and talked—really talked. We discovered mutual interests, shared a few laughs.
Then I brought up the elephant in the room.
"I heard what happened this morning. I'm sorry about what Lucy did."
She shrugged. "It was nothing. Just a bit of small talk blown out of proportion."
"If it weren't for my father's intervention, I might've had her removed permanently," I muttered.
She blinked. "I thought you two were… involved."
"God, no," I replied, almost shuddering. "She's a family arrangement I've been trying to dissolve for years."
Emma didn't speak, but her eyes said a lot. Maybe she was rethinking what she thought she knew about me.
Maybe I was, too.