CHAPTER 2 THE BILLIONAIRE'S OBSESSION

Zachary’s POV

I swirled the amber liquid in my crystal glass, staring blankly out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office at the glittering Manila skyline. It was past eight in the evening, but the headache pounding behind my temples had nothing to do with corporate numbers.

It was my father’s damn will.

“Get married before the year ends, Zachary, or the entire Villareal empire goes to the board,” my lawyer’s voice echoed in my mind for the hundredth time today.

It was a sick joke. My father knew exactly what happened with Cassandra. He knew how that gold-climbing bitch shattered my trust, turning me into a cold, unyielding bastard who swore off commitment forever. Yet, he still chained my inheritance to a wedding ring. The board members were already circling like vultures, waiting for me to fail so they could strip me of my CEO title.

I downed the rest of my bourbon, the burning sensation doing nothing to ease the frustration building up in my chest.

Knock. Knock.

"Enter," I barked coldly.

The heavy mahogany door opened, and instead of my secretary, a soft, vanilla scent drifted into the room. My eyes instantly narrowed as I looked up. It was her. Elena. The new maid who had arrived just a week ago.

She was carrying a silver tray with a fresh pot of black coffee. She was wearing that frustratingly plain maid uniform, but on her, it looked entirely different. The fabric stretched neatly against the soft curve of her hips and the full, heavy shape of her breasts. Her long, dark hair was tied up, exposing the flawless, creamy skin of her neck.

"S-Sir Zachary... ihahatid ko lang po sana ang kape niyo," she whispered, her voice so soft and melodic it sent an annoying, electric jolt straight down my spine.

She kept her eyes firmly on the floor, her hands trembling slightly as she set the porcelain cup on my desk. She was always like this—quiet, mahinhin, and completely oblivious to the fact that her sheer innocence was the most provocative thing in this entire mansion.

"Elena," I said, my deep voice cutting through the silence.

She gasped softly, her shoulders tensing as she finally looked up. Those big, innocent eyes met mine, and her cheeks instantly flushed with a beautiful, natural pink. "O-Opo, Sir?"

"How long have you been working here?" I asked, leaning back in my leather chair, my eyes locking onto her lips. For the past week, I had found myself watching her. I watched her sweep the garden, dust the library, and move around my house. It was becoming a dangerous distraction.

"Isang linggo na po, Sir," she replied, nervously gripping the edges of her silver tray.

"And you need this job badly, don't you?" I pressed, my predatory instincts taking over. I had seen her background check. I knew about her family's debts. I knew her mother was rotting in a public hospital.

Elena swallowed hard, a flash of vulnerability crossing her beautiful face. "Opo, Sir. Kailangan ko po talaga para sa pagpapagamot ng nanay ko."

"Good. Then make sure you don't screw up," I said coldly, though my mind was completely betraying my harsh words.

"Makakaasa po kayo, Sir. Una na po ako," she murmured, bowing her head before quickly turning around to leave.

As she walked toward the door, my gaze automatically dropped to the gentle sway of her hips beneath her skirt. I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached. Fuck. I was a billionaire. I could have any supermodel, any high-society heiress in the country with a single snap of my fingers. But tonight, looking at this simple, proper maid, a dark and filthy hunger clawed at my gut.

I wanted to rip that innocent uniform off her body. I wanted to see her proper demeanor shatter underneath me, to hear her sweet, soft voice scream my name in absolute pleasure.

I grabbed my glass and threw it against the wall, shattering the crystal into a thousand pieces. "Fuck!" I cursed under my breath, running a hand through my hair.

She was off-limits. She was my employee. But as the pressure of the inheritance closed in on me, and the memory of Elena’s soft vanilla scent lingered in the air, a reckless, wicked idea began to form in the darkest corner of my mind.

If I needed a wife to save my company, and she needed millions to save her mother... why not hit two birds with one stone?

I poured myself another drink, a dark, dangerous smirk slowly playing on my lips. Just wait, Elena. Soon, you won't be calling me Sir anymore.