One Night With The Possessive CEO
Bridget left the office early on her anniversary, her pocket heavy with a custom velvet ring box meant for her fiancé.
But when she pushed open the bedroom door, she found him tangled in their bed with her best friend, Chloe.
"Bridget! Wait, it's not what it looks like!" Jacob stammered, his eyes wide with panic.
"Evidence," Bridget stated coldly, snapping a photo of their naked bodies before fleeing into the freezing New York night.
Desperate to numb the betrayal, she got blackout drunk at an underground lounge and threw herself at a dark, terrifyingly handsome stranger.
She woke up in a penthouse suite alone, finding only a limitless black credit card left on the nightstand.
Humiliated and feeling like a cheap escort, she ran away, swearing to forget the nightmare.
But the nightmare had just begun. When she rushed into the office, she discovered the stranger was Jevon Rocha—the ruthless billionaire CEO of her company.
He didn't fire her. Instead, he trapped her in a twisted, obsessive power game, forcing her into his private life and demanding she report to his penthouse.
Bridget couldn't understand why a ruthless billionaire was so dangerously fixated on a low-level employee.
Until she stumbled upon his secret social media account and saw a crayon drawing of a little kid, captioned with a single word: "Finally."
A wave of absolute horror washed over her. He wasn't just playing games; he was hiding a secret child and a messy, high-stakes family drama.
She refused to be the naive collateral damage in a billionaire's twisted life.
Trembling, Bridget hit "Block" on his profile, determined to escape his dangerous web.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 9
The heavy oak door of the cigar room clicked shut, sealing them in absolute silence.
Zane instantly dropped the playful idiot act. He crossed his arms, his face deadly serious. "What the hell are you doing, Jevon? If you're just playing games with some poor girl from the office, stop it before it gets messy."
Jevon didn't answer immediately. He walked over to the climate-controlled humidor, pulled out a Cuban cigar, and sliced the end off with a silver cutter.
Zane snatched the silver lighter from Jevon's hand. "I'm serious."
Jevon looked up. The cold, corporate mask was gone. His eyes were filled with a desperate, agonizing obsession.
"I looked for her for ten years," Jevon said, his voice a low, gravelly whisper.
Zane took a step back, his eyes wide with shock. "Wait. You mean... the girl out there... she's that girl? The one you've been looking for?"
Jevon put the cigar in his mouth, struck a match, and inhaled deeply. He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke and gave a single, heavy nod.
Zane dragged a hand down his face. He remembered the broken, terrified boy Jevon used to be after the kidnapping. "If you found her, why the hell are you playing this weird boss-employee game? Why don't you just tell her who you are?"
Jevon walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the glittering Manhattan skyline. His broad shoulders slumped slightly.
"She just caught her fiancé cheating on her," Jevon said quietly. "Her trust is completely shattered. If I tell her that the CEO she's terrified of is actually the weak, pathetic kid she had to protect ten years ago... she'll think I'm a psychopath. She'll run."
Jevon turned around, his eyes burning with a terrifying resolve. "I am going to make her fall in love with Jevon Rocha. Cleanly. No past baggage."
Zane stared at him for a long moment. Finally, he let out a breath and shook his head. "You're insane. But fine. I'll help you."
They walked back into the living room. Bridget was sitting rigidly on the sofa, flipping nervously through an architectural magazine.
Zane walked over and sat down next to her, his entire demeanor shifting from flirtatious to deeply respectful. He poured her a glass of water and handed it to her.
"So, Bridget," Zane started, his tone casual. "I have this friend. He's been secretly in love with a girl for ten years. But he's terrified to tell her. What do you think she would do if she found out?"
Bridget lowered the magazine. She thought about Jacob's lies. Her chest tightened.
"It depends," Bridget said firmly. "If he was just watching from afar, imposing his own fantasy on her for a decade, then it's selfish deception. A real relationship needs honesty to begin. I hate liars."
Jevon, who had just poured himself a drink at the bar, froze. The crystal glass in his hand cracked under the sudden, violent pressure of his grip. The blood drained from his face.
Zane winced, realizing he had just stepped on a massive landmine. "Well, maybe he just didn't want to lose her-"
"A lie is a lie," Bridget interrupted, her voice hard. "I want simple, transparent relationships."
Jevon set the cracked glass down. He walked over, grabbed Zane by the back of his collar, and hauled him off the sofa.
"It's late," Jevon snarled. "You're leaving."
"I can't go to a hotel, the paparazzi are everywhere!" Zane protested.
Jevon pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant. "Alex. Book the entire top floor of the Four Seasons for Zane. Put it on my card." He hung up and shoved Zane toward the door.
Zane grabbed his jacket, shooting Bridget an apologetic look before fleeing the apartment.
The heavy door slammed shut. The silence in the apartment was suffocating.
Bridget stood up quickly, her heart pounding. "I should go too. I have work tomorrow."
Jevon didn't argue. He grabbed his car keys from the console table. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscle ticked visibly.
"I'm driving you," he commanded.
You may also like
8.1
Elinor's frail daughter, Cece, died in a sterile hospital room while waiting for her father to take her to Disney World.
But her billionaire husband, Derick, never showed up. At the exact moment Cece's heart monitor flatlined, the hospital TV broadcasted Derick affectionately holding the hand of his mistress and he has booked a clearance of the entire Disneyland to celebrate mistress's daughter's birthday!.
When Elinor confronted Derick with their daughter's ashes, he sneered and accused her of hiding the child just to get his attention. Elinor's heart was torn to shreds. How could a father be so blind and ruthless? Did Kamryn use his power to steal the very kidney that belonged to Cece? Why did her innocent baby have to die for their sick affair?
The suffocating grief inside Elinor finally crystallized into a sharp blade. She wiped the blood from her lips, canceled the simple divorce, and began her ruthless revenge.
9.0
My fiancé, Connor, and I had a one-year pact. I'd work undercover as a junior developer in the company we co-founded, while he, the CEO, built our empire.
The pact ended the day he ordered me to apologize to the woman who was systematically destroying my life.
It happened during his most important investor pitch. He was on video call when he demanded I publicly humiliate myself for his "special guest," Jaden. This was after she'd already scalded my hand with hot coffee and faced zero consequences.
He chose her. In front of everyone, he chose a manipulative bully over our company's integrity, our employees' dignity, and me, his fiancée.
His eyes on the screen demanded my submission.
"Apologize to Jaden. Now."
I took a step forward, held up my burned hand for the camera, and made a call of my own.
"Dad," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "It's time to dissolve the partnership."
7.4
My mother was dying and desperately needed a half-million-dollar deposit for an experimental heart surgery by tomorrow.
I swallowed my pride and begged my wealthy husband, Garrick, to save her life.
Instead of helping, he laughed coldly and threw a thick stack of divorce papers right in my face.
"A hen that can't lay eggs gets slaughtered," he sneered, ruthlessly poking my flat stomach.
He revealed that his secretary, my supposed friend Lacey, was already pregnant with his heir.
To him, our three years of marriage was just a business transaction, and now that my family was bankrupt, I was nothing but damaged goods.
He flicked a humiliating five-thousand-dollar check at me as his final act of charity, then locked me out of our townhouse into the freezing, pouring rain.
I had spent years enduring agonizing hormone treatments for a fertility issue that wasn't even my fault, only to be discarded like trash when I needed him the most.
Was my dignity, my absolute devotion, and my mother's life really worth nothing to him?
Driven by pure, reckless desperation, I threw myself directly into the path of a moving Rolls-Royce Phantom on Fifth Avenue.
It belonged to Holden Tillman, the ruthless patriarch of the Tillman empire—and the uncle Garrick lived in absolute terror of.
I thought I was walking into my death, but instead, I became his fiancée, ready to make Garrick and Lacey pay for every tear I shed.
9.5
Janet woke up gasping, the phantom fire of a deadly explosion still scorching her lungs. She had been reborn three years in the past, on the exact day her mother forced her into a marriage contract with Gaylord Bradford, a paralyzed and severely disfigured billionaire.
Before she could even process her second chance, her cousin Kandy kicked the bedroom door open, flaunting a massive diamond ring. Kandy, who had also been reborn, smugly announced she had stolen Janet's Wall Street golden boy fiancé, Jax Adler.
"You're going to marry that paralyzed monster," Kandy spat, gloating that she would build a billionaire dynasty with Jax while Janet wiped drool off a rotting corpse. Kandy expected Janet to have a complete mental collapse, completely unaware that Gaylord's own medical team was secretly injecting him with lethal neurotoxins to finish him off.
But Janet only felt a cold, clinical pity. Kandy's "prophetic" memories were a polluted lie. Jax was actually sterile and dying of irreversible kidney failure, while Gaylord wasn't a dying freak—he was a dormant god whose body was merely in a high-dimensional hibernation. Why would Janet mourn losing a doomed fraud?
Leaving her delusional cousin behind, Janet packed her bags and headed straight to Gaylord's maximum-security military cell. She physically tackled his corrupt doctor, drove three bio-electric silver needles into the crippled king's spine to awaken his deadened nerves, and looked him dead in his glacial blue eye.
"Sign the marriage contract," Janet whispered. "I will make you walk again, and we will take back everything."
9.0
For a whole year, April believed her billionaire husband, Bartholomew, abandoned her in Europe the day after their arranged wedding. She hated him so much she drunkenly prayed for his death at a club.
But he suddenly returned that very night, catching her red-handed. Instead of a divorce, he trapped her, threatening to bankrupt her bloodsucking family unless she moved into his penthouse to play the devoted wife.
Forced to comply, she attended a dinner with her toxic family. Her stepmother deliberately served her lobster—knowing April had a fatal allergy.
"Eat up, darling. I know hospital food is dreadful."
When April refused and exposed their massive gambling debts, her furious father raised his hand to strike her across the face.
But it was Bartholomew, the ruthless tyrant she despised, who caught her father's arm and snapped his wrist.
"If you ever try to touch my wife again, I will erase your family by sunrise."
April was completely stunned. Why was he defending her with such murderous rage? And why did he keep a cheap paper airplane she had made at age six preserved under a glass dome in his study?
The answer came that night. When Bartholomew stepped out of the shower, April saw the massive, jagged surgical scar sliced directly over his heart. He hadn't run away; he had been fighting for his life on an operating table. Staring at the man who had silently survived just to come back to her, April made her choice. She was going to uncover the truth behind his surgery and their past.
8.2
Ashley was tied to a rusted iron pillar in an abandoned warehouse, the noxious fumes of gasoline soaking her clothes.
Her fiancé Devon and her stepsister Brittany stood before her, revealing a horrifying truth. Devon never saved her from that fatal car crash three years ago; he merely stole the credit.
Worse, Brittany smirked and confessed that Ashley's own father had orchestrated her mother's murder. Before Ashley could process the betrayal, Devon callously tossed a lighter. A wall of blistering heat instantly consumed her. Even when Bennett Hawkins, the cold and untouchable billionaire, rushed into the inferno to shield her with his body, they were both swallowed by the explosion.
As the fire melted her skin, Ashley died with agonizing hatred. Why did her own flesh and blood want her dead? What dark secret were they hiding about her mother's tragic death?
Opening her eyes again, freezing saltwater violently flooded her lungs.
She was back at her twentieth birthday yacht party, right after Brittany had secretly pushed her into the freezing Hudson River.
Staring at the hypocritical faces of her family pretending it was an accident, Ashley didn't cry or beg. She calmly snatched a phone and dialed 911.
"Yes. I need to report an attempted murder."