The Cold CEO

Three years. 

I had three years. 

Three years before David and Lisa put a knife in me in a white dress. 

The tile was cold under my palms. I pressed my forehead to it because the world was spinning too fast. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Don't panic. Don't panic. I said to myself.

The old Sarah would have called Lisa. Would have cried to David. Would have let them talk her out of every bad feeling she had. 

The old Sarah was dead. 

I pushed myself up. The kitchen felt like it was spinning. I grabbed the counter to stay standing. 

My reflection in the microwave door scared me. Hair looking a mess. Eyes red. No ring on my finger. 

In 2029 I was wearing that ring when I died. 

I ripped the drawer open. Scissors. I found it. 

I didn't think. I just started cutting. 

My hair came off in chunks and fell to the floor. It was stupid and messy and I didn't care. 

When I was done I looked different. Shorter and sharper. 

I looked like someone who survived something. 

My phone buzzed. 

David. 

I let it ring. 

Another buzz. 

Lisa. 

I muted them both. 

My hands were still shaking but different now. Not like a  weak shaking. Am angry kind of  shaking. 

I needed to move. If I sat here any longer I was going to lose it. 

The lawyer emailed the prenup. 

After the wedding. 

Right. 

I opened my laptop. My fingers were clumsy. I typed: _Ethan Blackwood CEO_. 

His face filled the screen. 

Black suit. Grey eyes. Jaw like he was carved from stone. 

The articles called him ruthless. Cold. The man who bought companies and fired half the staff before lunch. 

And the only person who sent white lilies to my funeral in 2029. 

No card. No name. Just lilies. 

Why? 

I didn't know him. I never met him. 

Unless... unless in this timeline I had to. 

My phone rang again. Unknown number. 

I almost didn't answer. 

Then I did. 

"Hello?" 

"Sarah Miller?" 

A woman's voice. Professional. Sharp. 

"Yes?" 

"This is Ms. Reyes. I'm calling from Mr. Blackwood's office. He received a message from Mr. Cole regarding you." 

My blood went cold. 

David told him? Already? 

"And?" My voice came out small. 

"Mr. Blackwood would like to meet with you. Today. At 4pm. His office." 

I laughed. It sounded hysterical. "He wants to meet me? The CEO wants to meet David's fiancée?" 

"Mr. Blackwood does not explain himself, Miss Sarah. Will you be there?" 

I looked at the chopped hair on the floor. At the empty apartment. At the calendar that said I had three years to live. 

"Yes," I said. "I'll be there." 

The address came through as a text. Blackwood Tower. 89th floor. 

I hung up and threw up in the sink. 

At 3:30 I was standing across the street from Blackwood Tower. 

It was a monster. All glass and steel. Like it was daring the sky to touch it. 

People in suits went in and out. None of them looked like me. 

I was in black jeans and a black sweater. The only clean thing I owned. My hair was still wet from the sink. 

I looked like a mess. 

Good. 

Let him see what David did to me. 

The security guard stopped me at the door. "Name?" 

"Sarah Miller. I'm here to see Mr. Blackwood." 

He typed something. Frowned. "You're not on the list." 

"I was called. By Ms. Reyes." 

He made a call. Nodded. "89th floor. Don't wander." 

The elevator was glass. The city dropped away beneath me. 

My heart was pounding so hard I thought I was going to die right here. Again. 

Floor 89. 

The doors opened. 

And it was quiet. 

Too quiet. 

White floors. White walls. One desk and one lady. 

Ms. Reyes. She looked exactly like her voice. 

"Miss Miller." She didn't smile. "He's waiting." 

The doors in front of her opened by themselves. 

And there he was. 

Ethan Blackwood. 

He wasn't behind a desk. He was standing at the window. Hands in his pockets. Looking out at the city like he owned it. 

Which he probably did. 

He turned when I came in.  His eyes hit me and didn't move. 

Up and down. Once. 

Assessing me like I was a problem. 

"Sarah Miller," he said. His voice was low. Deep. It made my spine straighten without me telling it to. 

"Mr. Blackwood." 

"Don't." 

I blinked. "Don't what?" 

"Don't call me that. If you're going to ask me to walk you down the aisle, you can use my first name." 

My mouth went dry. "How did you know I was going to ask that?" 

"David called me 20 minutes ago. Crying." The word came out like it tasted bad. "Said his fiancée lost her mind and wants me to escort her." 

I flinched. 

Ethan walked toward me Slowly. 

He stopped a foot away. Close enough that I could smell him. Wood and cold air and money. 

"You don't look like a bride," he said. 

"I'm not." 

"You're shaking." 

"I'm cold." 

"You're lying." 

I looked up at him. 

He was younger than in the photos. Maybe 32. Tired around the eyes. Like he didn't sleep much. 

"Why did you send flowers to my funeral?" The words came out before I could stop them. 

His jaw tightened. Just a little. 

"I didn't." 

"Liar." 

For a second I thought he was going to throw me out. 

Then he sighed. Like I was exhausting him. 

"Sit down, Sarah." 

There was a couch. Black leather. I sat. 

He didn't sit. He stayed standing. Towering. 

"Let me get this straight," he said. "You want me. Ethan Blackwood. To walk you down the aisle. In front of David. In front of the press. In front of my mother." 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"Because I'm scared." I hated how weak it sounded. "Because David and Lisa are going to ruin me. And you're the only person who... who was there. At the end." 

Ethan went still. 

"What did you say?" 

"Nothing." 

"You said at the end." 

I swallowed. "I meant... I saw it in the news. That you went to funerals." 

He stared at me. For a long time. 

Then he walked to his desk and picked up a file. 

He threw it on the coffee table in front of me. 

"Open it." 

I did. 

Photos. Me. With David. At restaurants. At the park. 

Reports. My bank account. My address. My family. 

A timeline. Our wedding date. November 14, 2026. 

"You've been watching me," I whispered. 

"I've been watching David," Ethan corrected. "He's been trying to take my company for two years. Using you as leverage." 

My stomach felt sick. "What?" 

"He wants my board seat, Sarah. And the fastest way to get it is to marry into a family that has shares. Your family." 

"I don't have a family." 

"Exactly." Ethan crouched in front of me. Finally. 

Now we were eye level. 

"Which is why he picked you. No one to protect you. No one to ask questions." 

The room spun. 

2029 made sense now. 

It wasn't about me. It was about shares. About power. 

"So why would you help me?" I asked. "I'm nothing to you." 

Ethan's gray eyes searched mine. 

"Because I hate David more than I hate inconvenience." 

It wasn't romantic, neither was  It kind. 

But it was honest. 

"So what's the deal?" I asked. "What's the catch?" 

He stood up and went back to the window. 

"The catch is it's not just the aisle, Sarah. If I do this, I do it all the way." 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means you move into my penthouse tonight. It means we go to events together. It means when the press asks, you're mine." 

Mine. 

The word hit me like a slap. 

"For how long?" 

"Until after the wedding. Then we file an annulment." 

An annulment. Not a divorce. 

Clean and fast. 

"And David?" 

"Will lose his mind. Which is the point." 

I looked down at my hands. They weren't shaking anymore. 

"Okay," I said. 

Ethan turned. "Okay?" 

"I said okay." 

He studied me. "Just like that?" 

"What do I have to lose? I'm already dead in three years." 

Something flickered in his eyes. 

Pity? No. Ethan Blackwood didn't do pity. 

Respect, maybe. 

"Ms. Reyes will send a car at 7pm. Pack one bag. Nothing of David's comes with you." 

"What about the wedding?" 

"Moved up." 

My head snapped up. "What?" 

"November 14th is too far away. Too much time for David to plan something." Ethan's voice was flat. "Two weeks. November 1st." 

I couldn't breathe. 

"That's insane." 

"That's survival." He walked to the door and held it open. "Do we have a deal, Sarah?" 

I stood up. My legs were steady. 

For the first time since I woke up on that floor, I felt steady. 

"We have a deal." 

Ethan nodded once. 

"Good. Car at 7." 

I walked out. 

My phone was blowing up in my pocket. 

23 missed calls. All David. 

15 texts. All Lisa. 

And one new text. From an unknown number. 

_I know what you're doing. You think he's going to save you? He's worse than us._ 

I deleted it. 

The elevator took me down. 

When the doors opened to the lobby, David was there. 

He looked frantic. His hair looking wild and eyes red. 

"Sarah! Thank God. I was so worried—" 

He reached for me. 

And stopped. 

Because two security guards stepped between us. 

"Mr. Blackham," one said. "You can't be here." 

David looked past them at me. 

"Sarah, please. Come home. We can talk. Lisa didn't mean—" 

"Don't say her name." 

My voice was quiet. But it stopped him. 

David stared at me. At my short hair. At my black clothes. At the fact that I wasn't crying. 

"Who are you?" he whispered. 

I almost told him. 

Almost said _I'm the woman you killed_. 

Instead I just said, "Someone who isn't marrying you." 

And I walked out. 

The car was waiting. Black with tinted glass.

I got in. 

As we pulled away I saw David in the reflection. Standing on the curb. Watching me go. 

My phone buzzed one last time. 

Ms. Reyes: _Welcome to Blackwood Tower, Miss Miller. Dinner is at 8. Mr. Blackwood will see you

then._ 

I looked down at my hands. 

No ring. 

No blood. 

Just me. 

And a CEO who said he would help me. 

And a wedding in two weeks. 

And a man who might be saving me....or might be using me just like David did. 

I didn't know which was worse. 

But I knew I couldn't go back. 

Not to David. 

Not to 2029. 

The car turned onto the highway. 

And I realized I had no idea where I was going. 

Except forward.