Chapter 5 Chapter 5
In Love with the CEO
Chapter 5
Author: Alexander Smith
ALEX
Today, the great Alexander gave us the day off. Apparently, it’s been two years since his wife passed away. It’s really sad for little Julia—losing her mother at such a young age isn’t cool for anyone.
I wake up this morning at 8 a.m. It’s been a while since I could afford to do something like that on a weekday. I plan to spend the whole day in bed. I don’t want to run into my mother—she always finds a way to start drama.
I think I spoke too soon. Here she is, barging into my room without knocking, as usual.
I sigh. “What’s the issue this morning that you’re bursting into my room without knocking?”
My mother says, “You rude little girl, did we sleep together? Despite the good upbringing I try to instill in you, you act like you have no parents.”
I reply, “Is that why you feel entitled to barge into my room like this, to lecture me?”
My mother says, “Are you sick or something? This is my house. Keep this up, and I’ll have the door to your room removed, you ill-mannered girl. Get up, I have something to tell you.”
I sit up, and she pulls a chair to sit in front of me.
My mother says, “You know Ismael, don’t you?”
I say, “Yes, yes, I know him.”
My mother continues, “He wants your hand for his son. They have a good social status, and he’ll take good care of you. I’ve sent him the dowry list.”
I say, “No, are you joking? Since when do you think you can make these decisions for me?”
My mother snaps, “You insolent little brat, will you shut up? Since you’ve been here, have you ever shown me a single boyfriend? When you go out messing around, one day you’ll bring me a fatherless pregnancy. Isn’t it better to get married?”
I, at my breaking point, say, “Mom, you’re really something, and not in a good way. What have I done to you? No matter what I do, you always find something to say. You’re never proud of me, you don’t encourage me. Don’t you see all the effort I put in every day for us? How hard I work for a tyrant just so we can live decently? But it’s never enough. You have to compare me to others and constantly put me down. Why, Mom? Let me tell you, you should call him right now and tell him not to bring any dowry, or the shame you keep saying I bring on you, you’ll really feel it. I have nothing more to say on this subject.”
She gets up and leaves my room without a word. I don’t know what’s with her obsession with marriage. I’m still too young for that. I have time to find the right one for me. Plus, lately, I spend so much time thinking about that big jerk that even if Brad Pitt showed up in front of me, I wouldn’t look at him.
I take a shower and lie back down with my phone to play some music, but I notice my phone is dead. I look for my charger in vain—I must have left it at work.
I didn’t want to leave my room since I’m still fuming, but my stomach isn’t on the same page as me. I go to the kitchen to make something to eat. When I finish eating, it’s already 1 p.m. I lie down for a bit, and when I wake up, it’s almost 4 p.m. Plus, my phone is almost completely dead. I decide to go to the office to grab my charger. It’ll also give me a chance to take a walk and get some fresh air—I’m starting to feel suffocated here.
I hop in the shower, take a bath, and get ready. I put on a light, floral-patterned dress that hugs my body down to the waist before flaring out to mid-thigh. I pair it with sneakers and, to complete the look, grab a small bag where I put my phone and wallet. I tie my hair into a bun with a ribbon, but then I undo it. I give myself one last look in the mirror. I admit, lately, when I get dressed, I think about that jerk. I wonder how he’d find me in this outfit and if he’d like it. Honestly, I’m a hopeless case, I swear. I turn off the light and leave my room. In the living room, I run into my mom, who’s in front of the TV, as usual. It’s like she never gets tired of it.
I greet her. “Good evening, Mom.”
She eyes me up and down. “Where are you off to now, dressed like that?”
I reply, “I’m going to grab my charger at work and take a little walk.”
My mother, with a shocked look, says, “Don’t take me for a fool. Just admit you have a date with a man.”
I say before leaving, “See you later, Mom.”
My mother, shouting, says, “Whatever you’re going to do, do it quickly and don’t come back late. I don’t want to wait up for you all night!”
I close the door behind me and leave. I’ll never understand that woman. Not long ago, she wanted to marry me off to a guy I don’t even know, and now it bothers her to think I might have a date with a man. Isn’t that what she wants, for me to be married? Too funny.
I take a taxi to the office. When I arrive, I pay the fare and get out. I head toward the entrance, where I greet one of the security guards. He’s surprised to see me since no employees were supposed to be here today, but I explain I forgot something I need to pick up. He lets me through, asking me to be quick.
When I enter the building, it’s empty, with a calm and silence that echoes so loudly in my mind. I would’ve loved to see Alexander’s face when he saw me in sneakers. He’s one of those men who think you have to wear high heels. I remember him scolding one of the receptionists who showed up to work in flats. That’s because he’s never spent a day in heels—he’s so demanding.
I decide to take the stairs instead of the elevator. It’ll serve as some exercise too. I reach the second floor and stop to catch my breath. I head to the third floor, which is reserved exclusively for the CEO and his assistant. There’s also a large meeting room and another unoccupied office. I continue climbing, and the closer I get, the more I think I hear a noise. When I reach the landing before the third floor, I notice that, unlike the other floors, this one is plunged into total darkness. The large bay windows are covered with thick curtains that block the sunlight from illuminating this level. I muster my courage and climb the rest of the stairs. When I reach the top, I think I see a silhouette on the floor. Panicked and scared, I rush to the light switch and turn it on. When I turn around, I’m shocked by what I see: my boss, sitting on the floor, surrounded by whiskey bottles—some empty, others still full—holding a half-empty one like it’s his baby. The great Alexander, who spends all his time yelling at everyone, gives everyone the day off so he can get drunk out of his mind? What’s going on here?
Is he asleep, or did he pass out? I walk toward him as quietly as possible, wanting to check if he’s still alive. I see him move when he notices me. I’m so gripped by fear that I freeze. How am I going to justify being here?
He tries to stand but falls. I rush to him.
I try to help him up. “Are you okay, sir?”
He responds, smiling, “You came? I missed you so much.”
I’m a bit confused and shocked by his response. I try to stand, but he pulls me toward him, and I fall onto him. I quickly pull away and end up sitting across from him. He crawls toward me on all fours, and I try to back away until I hit the wall behind me. He smiles before caressing my left cheek, sending shivers through me. It feels like an electric shock coursing through my body.
Alexander says, “You’re so beautiful without that bun tonight.”
My reason tells me to get out of there fast, but my entire body refuses to obey. When I look into his eyes, which remind me of a beautiful sunset, it’s like I’m hypnotized. We stay there, staring into each other’s eyes, until he decides to kiss me. It feels like my whole body was waiting for this moment. My hairs stand on end like a porcupine. I can’t help but respond to this gentle kiss, which intensifies with every second. He urges me to straddle him, and I don’t hold back or resist anything. It’s like the wire connecting to my brain has been unplugged, and desire and passion take over. I start to feel him harden against me. He’s so warm it feels like he’s burning me. I can’t help but cling to his neck and run my fingers through his hair.
My heart races. I’ve never felt what I’m experiencing in this exact moment. The gentle kiss from the start becomes very, very sensual, a kiss full of fervor with a hint of roughness. Before I realize it, his hands are under my dress, caressing my back and pulling me tightly against him, until a sharp noise snaps me back to reality.
When I turn around, it’s William, who dropped his car keys.
William, in shock, says, “What the hell is going on here?”
I’m so shocked it feels like my system is glitching, but unlike me, Alexander doesn’t stop. I try to remove his hands from under my dress, but it’s no use—he’s so strong. With every attempt, his grip tightens.
