My Bad Boy วิศวะคลั่งรักเมียเด็ก

Carmilla leaned back in her office chair, the soft leather creaking beneath her. The phone was cradled between her ear and shoulder as she gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Below, the city pulsed with life, car horns blared, people shouted over the noise of construction, and somewhere in the distance, music drifted from a cafe patio. Normally, the chaos energized her. But today, it felt static.

"I'm telling you, Mia, I'm done. These meetings, these investors... it's like I'm stuck on repeat," she said, rubbing her temple. “I don’t even feel present anymore.”

Mia’s laugh came bright and clear through the phone. “Welcome to adulthood. And hey, it’s not just you, Cam. Even modeling gets exhausting when you're constantly trying to look better than someone two inches taller and five years younger.”

Carmilla smirked. “You're still the best in the game, and you know it.”

“Well, you’re still the most stubborn CEO I know. You just need a break. Maybe a spa weekend—me, you, and some overpriced cocktails?”

“God, that sounds good. Maybe one day soon. Together, like always.”

She glanced at the sleek watch on her wrist. One hour until the investor meeting. She made a mental note to go over the presentation again.

Just as Mia began to respond, a knock interrupted them. Carmilla’s brow furrowed. Sandra, her assistant, knew better than to disturb her during a call unless it was important.

“Hold on, Mia.” She lowered the phone slightly, to respond to her personal assistant. “Come in.” she said.

Sandra stepped inside, her dress code was an office suit. Her face pale, eyes slightly red. Something was wrong.

“Sorry, Miss Carmilla,” she said softly, voice tight. “But there’s an urgent call for you. I wouldn’t have interrupted otherwise.”

Carmilla’s stomach sank a bit. “Mia, I have to go now, something came up. I’ll call you back.”

“Okay, girl. Take care,” Mia replied, concerned creeping into her voice as the line disconnected.

Carmilla turned her attention to Sandra, who looked visibly shaken. “Put it through,” she said, standing.

She walked toward her desk as the phone line clicked over. “This is Carmilla speaking” she said, tone shifting into calm professionalism.

“Carmilla…” a man’s voice said quietly on the other end. She recognized it instantly—her father.

Her heart skipped, her mind being absent a moment. They rarely spoke, and never at work. The silence between them had lasted for years, broken only by short, awkward holiday calls. This moment, she didn't know the words to put, but she let out anyway.

“Yes dad, is everything okay?” she asked, her voice sharp, betraying the dread blooming in her chest.

“It’s Julian,” he said. Then a pause. “He’s… he’s dead.”

The words hit like a truck. She pulled the phone away from her ear because those words were sharp. She then returned the phone back as if ready to talk.

“No,” she whispered, almost instinctively.

“I’m sorry. He was found yesterday. Gunshot wound. The police believe it was deliberate. They’re still investigating.”

Carmilla’s legs weakened. She sat slowly, hand gripping the edge of the desk. “Julian…” she breathed.

Her twin. Her partner-in-crime. Her mirror.

Despite the fractured relationship she had with the rest of her family, Julian had always been the exception, the bridge she could still walk on. He made the past feel less heavy.

“How did this happen? How's mom doing?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“ Since the news, she hasn't been out of her room. But I need you to come home, Carmilla. I know things between us… haven’t been good. But maybe this—maybe we can fix things.”

She said nothing for a moment. Her eyes locked on the city beyond her office window.

“I’ll make the arrangements for my return but this is only for my brother sake” she said finally, steadying her voice. “I’m coming home.”

“That is all I need from you at this moment” His voice broke. Then the line went dead.

Carmilla sat there, the silence pressing in. Grief clawed at her chest, but she kept it caged. Not now. Not here.

The door creaked open again. Sandra approached carefully, her own eyes glossy. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Is there anything I can do?”

Carmilla turned, her composure slipping just enough to show her reddened eyes.

“Yes,” she said after a beat. “Cancel everything for the rest of the day. Reschedule the investor meeting. Tell them I’m handling a family emergency and will follow up when I return.”

Sandra nodded. “Of course. And Mia?”

“She’s probably in a shoot. Contact her manager. Let her know what happened. She’ll want to hear it sooner rather than later.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Sandra paused. “Should I arrange your travel?”

“Yes. The earliest flight. And Sandra…” Carmilla hesitated. “While I’m gone, you’re in charge. Handle what you can, but leave the big decisions. I won’t be working remotely. I need to be there. Fully.”

“I understand,” Sandra said gently. “And I’ll make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“Thank you.”

Sandra stepped out quietly, leaving Carmilla alone.

She turned back to the window, but the view no longer held its usual charm. Everything looked different now. Distant. Cold.

Her thoughts wandered back to Julian—his laugh, his wild ideas, how he always had her back when no one else did. He was her twin, her better half, the only family member who had never turned his back on her.

“Why now?” she whispered. “Julian, why did you have to go?”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, her head in her hands.

And for the first time in years, Carmilla let herself cry.