BURNING FOR MY EX'S CEO COUSIN

Alani Lane

I heaved a sigh, looking at my wristwatch, then at the incomplete weekly report on the computer screen. It was exactly two and a half hours past the usual work office time. I rolled my shoulders, the muscles stiff and tight from hours of sitting behind a computer. Even my fingers were protesting from typing page after page and filling multiple tables. Two empty cups of coffee lay on the table behind the computer, but at the rate I was going, I needed an additional one, maybe something stronger to help me keep up the pace.

"What are you still doing here?" Julian, the head of the Global Markets Expansion and my director, asked, leaning on the door frame. "It's way past the working hours."

I let out a sigh, rubbing the back of my neck to release the tension. "I have to finish the monthly report before I leave," I responded, resuming typing even though what I wanted was to switch off the computer or lie on the desk.

"You can finish it after the wedding," he pointed out. "Plus, I thought I gave you a whole week off to prepare for the big day."

I scoffed, turning down my mouth. "Mr Voss did not approve it. According to him, there is no such clause in my employment contract granting me a leave for 'useless romantic reasons'...his words."

"Of course he didn't," he muttered, his words dripping with sarcasm. "Alexander Voss wouldn't approve of oxygen if it wasn't in the employee handbook."

A reluctant laugh escaped me. "You said it, not me."

He gave me a crooked smile. "Still true. Anyway, finish up, but do not let him chain you here all night, okay?" He said, even though he knew Voss was the CEO and he did whatever he so deemed. "I will see you on Saturday, although I still don't understand why you agreed to marry that good-for-nothing—"

"Don't insult my fiance," I mumbled, earning a soft chuckle before he finally left me to finish the report. The office once again fell silent, leaving only the sound of the keyboard as I typed. My eyes burnt from staring at the screen continuously, and my eyelids felt heavy.

"Cold-hearted CEO, making me work a week before my own wedding." I mumbled to myself, pressing on the keys harder and faster. "He probably has a toilet schedule according to a written contract," I went on, muttering in the small office. "Selfish, inconsiderate, cruel...I swear the man has ice in his veins."

"Don't you think I'd be dead if ice flowed in my veins instead of blood?" A deep baritone voice replied smoothly, dangerously calm, making my heart leap into my throat.

I jerked upright so fast that my chair squeaked. Alexander Voss, CEO of the Voss Empire, leaned on the doorframe, the exact spot where Julian had stood. He was six-foot something of impossible composure, with his eyebrow arched. His white designer button-up shirt and slacks were still crisp as if he hadn't worn them the entire day.

"Mr Voss," I blurted, my cheeks heating up; I was sure they had turned pink. "I didn't know you were still in the building."

"Obviously." He walked inside like he owned the building, and he did. "You were saying something about selfishness and cruelty?"

I shook my head quickly. "I... was just finishing the report you asked for."

"Good." He leaned over the desk, his breathtaking perfume wafting into my nose.

"But leave it, we are flying to Las Vegas now." I tilted my head, blinking at him slowly, trying to understand his words.

"Huh?" I raised my eyebrows, my fingers freezing further above the keyboard.

"I finally managed to get an audience with clients I have been trying to for the last month. I need you to convince them to choose us as their marketing partner," he explained, looking at his wristwatch.

"But sir, my wedding is—"

"We will be back before your wedding, Miss Lane," he snapped. "Consider this as your gift, something to keep you off the wedding jitters."

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think I can accompany you. My fiance is away in another state for an important meeting, so he can't help with the plans I was hoping to finish up," I explained, but the man just stood there, yawning as if what I was saying bored him.

"I wasn't asking Miss Lane," his voice dropped dangerously low. "I am giving you a chance to prove that you are cut out for your marketing deputy director position. If you don't take it, then there won't be any reason for you to continue working here."

My mouth opened, but no words came. Was he seriously threatening my job five days before my wedding? Given the blank look on his face, he wasn't bluffing; Alexander Voss never bluffed.

I heaved a sigh, rubbing my forehead. "At least let me run home for some essentials."

His gaze fell on me. "Las Vegas has shops; whatever you need, I will buy it for you."

My small-sized pride wanted to argue, but my common sense said, 'Shut up and survive; you need this job.'

"Fine," I spoke under my breath.

"Good, 10 minutes to the parking lot." He turned and walked out, leaving me no choice but to switch off the computer fast and follow him.

I tried calling my fiancé Shane as I headed to the parking lot, but there was no answer. I tried two more times, chewing my lip, but he still didn't pick up. In the end I typed up a quick message, informing him that I would be back the next day hopefully and that K loved him.

Thirty minutes later, I was inside Alexander's private jet, the silence in it suffocating. He had handed me a file of what to expect in the early morning meeting. For the rest of the flight he barely spared me a glance, typing away, taking calls while I let the info in the file sink in. By the time we landed and got to the high-end hotel, it was past midnight. My limbs were heavy, and my brain was fogged with exhaustion. All I wanted was a shower and a bed.

Unfortunately for me, fate or maybe bad luck had other plans. "There was a mix-up with the room reservations," the receptionist explained, her glossy lips stretching into a forced smile. Her eyes fell on Voss's upper body, not bothering to hide the fact that she was checking him out. But then, which single woman in her right mind wouldn't swoon over him?

"We are fully booked, although there is an available suite with one bedroom and one shared living space."

I froze, placing one hand on the counter. "What do you mean one bedroom?"

The woman gestured with her manicured red-painted nails. "I promise it's a very spacious suite, one of our best."

"We'll take it," Mr Voss said smoothly, scrolling lazily on his phone. He wasn't even aware of the attention he was getting from the lady.

I turned to him, my eyes widening. "I can't share a suite with you," I hissed under my breath.

"Why?" He boredly asked. "Because you're getting married?" His eyes flicked to mine. "Do you want to sleep in the streets, Miss Lane?"

I bit down on my tongue and the words that were bubbling on its tip. "Fine."

"Good girl." He took the key card and handed it to me. "Go up first; I'm right behind you."

I snatched it from his hand and stormed towards the elevator, my heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. My reflection in the elevator's steel walls mirrored my pursed lips and the crease on my forehead. What would Shane say if he found out I shared a space with another man? I thought about trying to call him again, and just like the previous time, it went unanswered.

Upon reaching the suite, I swiped the key card, pushing the door open, eyes closed as I yawned. I tripped and almost fell over two suitcases that were still by the door with the matching airport tags on them. I was about to move them when a moan, followed by a groan filled the room, the voices familiar. My first thought was to run out and give the couple privacy, thinking that I was in the wrong room until I snapped my eyes towards the suite's living room.

My entire body froze in place, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe. My eyes widened a fraction as I took in the scene in front of me. There, right in the middle of the living room, was Shane, gripping my 45-year-old stepmother's hips as he thrust into her.

"Right there, baby," Caroline moaned, throwing her head back as Shane tightened his hold.

"You are so sweet," Shane groaned, increasing his speed while I stood there motionless.

"Sweeter than your stupid fiancée?" My stepmother asked, her words making me press my teeth together.

"Oh yes," Shane replied, pressing her tighter against the armrest of the couch. "Four days in Las Vegas and I still haven't gotten enough of you," he added in a rasp, spanking her ass.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I could feel tears pricking my eyes, but I swear I couldn't get myself to blink. Everything seemed so unreal, even though it was right before my watering eyes. What were the chances that the hotel Voss booked and the room we got would throw such a revelation to me? I don't know how long it took, but finally I managed to force the words out, even though it felt like someone else was speaking.

"Oh my god," I spoke, finally taking a breath. My stepmother scrambled to lower her dress, while Shane jumped away from her, eyes widening as he looked at me.