4 : Mr. CEO and I

CHAPTER 4

Three Days With Mr. Moretti

Elise’s POV

Three weeks at Moretti Group had taught me two things.

First, I was very good at my job.

Second, Rylee Moretti was a workplace hazard.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

I kept my eyes on my computer. “Good morning. Have you tried greeting people without flirting?”

“I have. It was a terrible experience.”

“Tragic. Should I call an ambulance?”

He laughed, pulling a chair beside my desk. “Dinner with me tonight?”

“No.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Coffee?”

“Rylee, at this point, even your calendar deserves a restraining order.”

He clutched his chest. “And here I am, offering you the privilege of my company.”

“I’m sure the company has a department for that.”

“Cruel woman.”

“Persistent man.”

He grinned. “You like me.”

“I tolerate you. There’s a difference.”

“It’s a start.”

I shook my head as he finally returned to his desk.

Rylee was charming, annoyingly thoughtful, and far too handsome for someone with so little shame. Unfortunately for him, my heart had already made a questionable career choice years ago.

It had chosen his stepbrother.

The colder, grumpier, significantly less approachable Moretti.

Excellent taste, terrible circumstances.

⸻

While Rylee spent his days trying to charm me, I spent mine proving I deserved my position.

Supplier reports, material specifications, quality assessments. I checked everything twice, sometimes three times. Construction materials weren’t just numbers on paper. A defective product could compromise an entire structure, and I refused to let a careless signature become somebody else’s disaster.

My colleagues soon learned that I was friendly, but not easily convinced. If a supplier tried to pass questionable materials as acceptable, I would happily explain why they were wrong, complete with supporting documents.

Apparently, my work had caught someone’s attention.

One afternoon, my colleague Mara rolled her chair toward me.

“Your report got reviewed by the executive office.”

I barely looked up. “And?”

She turned her monitor around.

At the bottom of my assessment was a note.

Analysis is thorough. Proceed with the recommended supplier review. Do not approve the materials until all discrepancies have been resolved.

Signed: Reou A. Moretti.

I read it once.

Twice.

Then a third time, because apparently my professional development had become a romantic comedy.

“He approved it?” I asked, trying to sound normal.

“He approved your recommendation,” Mara corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“I enjoy competent leadership.”

“Of course you do.”

She rolled away, laughing.

I turned back to my screen, biting the inside of my cheek.

He had read my work. He had trusted my judgment.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even a proper conversation.

But I was willing to accept crumbs while I figured out how to get invited to the bakery.

⸻

My opportunity arrived the following Monday.

Our department head announced that Moretti Group would be attending a three-day International Advanced Materials and Quality Standards Forum in Cebu City. The event would bring together engineering firms, manufacturers, and suppliers to discuss new materials, testing technologies, and industry standards.

Naturally, Reou would attend.

Naturally, I tried not to look too interested.

“We need one junior quality assurance associate to prepare technical briefings, review supplier specifications, and assist during the executive meetings,” our department head continued.

I sat straighter.

“Based on her recent assessments, Aurora will be assigned to the team.”

I blinked.

“Me, ma’am?”

“Unless there’s another Aurora in this department with your reports.”

“No, ma’am. I’m happy to help.”

Happy was one word for it.

Internally, I was planning our wedding.

Metaphorically, obviously. I had standards.

Three days. Seventy-two hours. An entire business trip within talking distance of the man I had spent years trying to forget and approximately five minutes failing at.

The universe was finally cooperating.

Which meant something terrible was probably about to happen.

⸻

That evening, Rylee messaged me.

Rylee: Heard you’re going to Cebu with my brother.

Me: It’s a work assignment.

Rylee: Naturally. Should I be worried about the professional development happening?

Me: Only if you plan to develop a personality.

Rylee: You wound me, beautiful.

Then another message arrived.

Rylee: Just be careful with him. Reou doesn’t like surprises.

I frowned at the screen.

Me: Why are you telling me this?

His reply took longer this time.

Rylee: Because I’ve known him all my life. And I’ve never seen him let anyone close enough to surprise him.

I stared at the message.

For once, there was no teasing, no flirtation, no ridiculous attempt to ask me out.

Just a warning.

Rylee knew I wanted something from his brother. He simply didn’t know how long I’d wanted it.

I set my phone aside.

I wasn’t going to chase Reou around the conference hall or manufacture reasons to be near him. I had worked too hard to become someone I could be proud of.

If he noticed me, it would be because I gave him a reason to.

And if he happened to notice my face, too?

Well, I wasn’t going to sabotage a perfectly good opportunity.

⸻

The first mistake I made that morning was thinking I was prepared to see Reou Moretti again.

The second was forgetting that the man could make an entire airport lounge feel like a boardroom simply by standing in it.

He was near the departure gate, dressed in a tailored black suit, one hand tucked into his pocket while his chief of staff discussed the itinerary. His expression was as unreadable as ever.

And, unfortunately, he was still devastatingly handsome.

I hated that for me.

“Ms. Annaliese?”

I turned toward the voice. Mr. Bennett, Reou’s chief of staff, gestured for me to approach.

“Mr. Moretti, this is Aurora Annaliese, our junior quality assurance associate assigned to the forum. She’ll be assisting with the technical briefings and supplier assessments.”

Reou glanced at me.

Then he looked at Mr. Bennett.

Then back at me.

For the first time that morning, the mighty Reou Moretti appeared to have lost his next sentence.

It lasted barely a second, but I caught it.

Oh, this is interesting.

“Aurora?” he repeated. Oh my heart fluttered. He only calls me Aurora.

“Yes, Mr. Moretti.” I offered a polite smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Finally?

I could practically see the questions forming behind his gaze.

He hadn’t bothered learning the names of his junior employees, much less memorizing their qualifications. To him, I was probably another name on a staffing report, another person expected to deliver results without requiring his attention.

But this time, he looked at me as though I were a discrepancy he couldn’t explain.

“You’re the one who prepared the recent supplier assessments?”

“Yes. I also reviewed the updated specifications for the companies attending the forum.”

He studied my face.

I knew what he was thinking. I wasn’t the Elise he remembered—or, more accurately, the girl he had barely allowed himself to know.

And if he suspected I was the daughter of the Rockwells, the question would be even more obvious.

Why would an heiress work her way up as a junior associate in the company of her family’s greatest business rival when she could simply take a seat at the top of her own?

Because, unfortunately, my heart had never been particularly interested in sensible career decisions.

“I see,” he said at last. “I wasn’t informed you’d be joining us.”

“I imagine you have more important things to remember than the names of everyone on your payroll.”

Mr. Bennett suddenly became very interested in his tablet.

Reou’s gaze sharpened.

“That sounds like criticism, Ms. Elise.”

“An observation, sir. I wouldn’t presume to criticize my employer before our flight.”

For a moment, silence stretched between us.

Then his mouth twitched.

Barely.

But I saw it, and my heart, traitorous little thing, nearly applauded.

“Let’s hope your work is better behaved than your mouth.”

“Thankfully, sir, my reports are much easier to manage.”

Mr. Bennett coughed.

I pretended not to notice.

Reou held my gaze for another second before looking down at the folder in my hands. “We should discuss something before we depart.”

I knew what was coming before he said it.

“Our last conversation.”

Ah. There it was.

The phone call I’d spent three weeks replaying in my head.

“Which part?” I asked lightly. “The congratulations, or the part where you suggested you knew why I had returned?”

“Don’t play innocent with me.”

“I’m not, Mr. Moretti. I’m simply trying to establish which conversation we’re having. We seem to have several unfinished ones.”

His jaw tightened slightly.

“Why are you really back, Elise?”

My name sounded different coming from him. Familiar, yet guarded. As though he had accidentally opened a door he’d spent years keeping shut.

For one fleeting moment, I wanted to tell him everything.

That I’d missed him. That I had come home hoping there might still be a place for me in his life. That the engagement announcement had hurt more than I cared to admit.

Instead, I met his eyes calmly.

“I came home to begin my life, Reou. Not every decision I make has something to do with you.”

It was a lie.

A beautifully delivered, professionally packaged lie.

His gaze lingered on me, searching for something I refused to give him.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose three days will tell me whether I should believe you.”

Before I could answer, the boarding announcement echoed through the lounge.

Reou turned toward the gate, then paused beside me.

“Stay close during the forum. I expect you to defend your assessments if anyone challenges them.”

“I always do.”

He looked at me once more, something unreadable passing through his eyes.

“Good.”

Then, quieter, almost as if he hadn’t intended for me to hear it, he added, “It’s good to see you again, Elise.”

My heart forgot every rule of professionalism I’d ever learned.

He walked away before I could decide whether to smile or ask what, exactly, he meant by again.

I followed him toward the gate, holding my folder a little tighter.

Three days with Reou Moretti.

Three days to prove myself, protect my secret, and keep my heart from making a complete fool of me.

And the most dangerous part?

For the first time since I’d returned, I wasn’t sure he was looking at me as just another employee.