THE CEOS’ SECRET BABY

Ava Miller.

I needed to get home before this storm broke.

Standing inside the elevator, I impatiently tapped my foot against the cold metal floor, watching the red digital numbers slowly descend.

33... 32... 31...

It was nearly midnight. My cleaning shift had gone on much longer than usual because the CEO had apparently fired an entire team earlier this afternoon. That left the maintenance crew with double the workload, scrubbing down offices and prepping them for whatever new employees were coming in next.

Suddenly, the elevator gave a violent rattle. A metallic screech echoing through the shaft, and the overhead lights snapped completely out.

“What was that?” I gulped, spinning around in the cramped, four-walled darkness, my eyes straining to search for any immediate danger.

Then, the mechanism groaned, and the elevator began surging upward.

27... 28... 29... 30... 31...

“No, no, no. Go down!” The crimson numbers were flying by now, ascending at an alarming pace.

Panic setting in, I fumbled for my phone, clicked on the flashlight, and tried to dial for Matthew. In a storm like this, he was bound to be pacing the floors at home, worrying where I was.

The phone rang once. Then the screen went completely black. Dead.

“What the hell!” I yelled, irritation biting through my fear. I stepped forward and began slamming the emergency button repeatedly, hoping to alert security. But at this hour, the massive corporate tower was like a ghost town.

With a sudden ding, the doors slowly slid apart, letting in a heap of cool air.

I let out a shaky sigh of relief. I had never imagined meeting my end trapped inside a metal box.

Stepping out, I couldn’t tell which floor I had landed on, but I didn't care. All I needed to find were the emergency stairs.

“Where the hell have you been?” A sharp, commanding voice barked from the shadows behind me.

“Do you have any idea how much money I just lost because you missed that dealership meeting? I’ve been waiting the entire evening. You don’t answer your phone, and you ignore the emails my PA sent?” He continued to snap, his heavy footsteps drawing closer.

Is he talking to me?

Slowly, I turned in his direction. I couldn't make out a single feature; the blackout had plunged the entire executive floor into pitch darkness.

“Excuse me... are you talking to me?” I called out cautiously.

The sound of the rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows was almost deafening, swallowing my voice.

“Are you playing stupid with me? Do I look like I’m talking to anyone else? Aren’t you the only person standing in front of my desk?”

What an absolute jerk.

Stepping closer, I tried to correct him before he lost his temper completely. “Sir, I am the—”

“You are going to have to redo the entire brief,” he cut me off smoothly, his voice dripping with authority. “And I’m withholding the final payment to your firm until these files are processed, finalized, and notarized.”

Was this man out of his mind?

“Can you actually listen for a single second? What is wrong with you?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, my own irritation bubbling over.

Irritated was an understatement. Whoever this arrogant man was looking for had clearly been trapped by the weather just like everyone else. Couldn't he see the flashing lightning outside his own windows?

“Excuse me?” He sounded genuinely stunned that someone was talking back to him.

“Yes, excuse you. Look outside. The grid is down, the lights are out, and the roads are flooding. This isn’t the time to sit around berating people over paperwork.” I stood my ground, my hands clenching into fists.

I was done dealing with him. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving.”

I made a move to push past his towering silhouette toward the exit sign, but a deafening crack of thunder shook the entire building. The noise vibrated straight through the floorboards. I let out a sharp gasp, instinctively dropping into a crouch and clamping my eyes shut.

My ears rang from the sheer volume of the blast, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

“Are you alright?”

Two large, warm hands reached down into the dark, gripping my arms firmly to help me back to my feet.

“Yeah... I just... I hate thunder,” I admitted, my voice sounding tight as I tried to clear my throat.

Suddenly, his scent washed over me, thick and intoxicating. It tasted of mint, rich burnt cherries, and the fresh aroma of a rain filled forest floor. He smelled incredibly expensive.

Dangerous.

I looked up, squinting through the blackness to try and catch a glimpse of his face, but failed completely.

Becoming intensely aware of how close we were standing, I tried to take a step back, desperate for a breath of cool air, desperate to find the exit.

But his grip on my wrists tightened slightly, preventing me from retreating.

“The storm has washed out the lower avenues,” his voice dropped into a dangerously low, smooth baritone. It sounded predatory, like a hunter setting a trap. “You won’t make it a block outside.”

A sudden shiver traveled straight down my spine.

He tilted his head, his shadow shifting as if he were trying to study my silhouette in the dark, trying to figure out exactly who was standing in his space

Sensing the danger, I pulled against his grip again, but he stepped directly into my personal space instead. The small distance between us vanished instantly.

I swallowed hard.

Yet, for some inexplicable reason, I stayed completely rooted to the floor. It was as if a reckless part of me wanted to see what he would do next, daring him to take another step.

The raw heat radiating from his chest was overwhelming, making me completely forget about the freezing rain outside.

He leaned down, his breath brushing against the shell of my ear. “Are you cold?” he murmured.

“N-No,” I stammered, my heart racing even faster.

“Do you even know who you’re talking to right now?”

Did I? “N-No,” I whispered again.

What is happening to me...

He let out a low, deep chuckle. The sound was rich and masculine, competing with the heavy rain rattling the glass, but it sounded entirely melodic.

“What’s your name?”

His face was too close now. Dangerously close.

“Please... I just need to go,” I breathed, the words tasting like a plea.

But deep down, I didn’t even know what I was begging for anymore whether I wanted to escape into the rain, or completely erase the remaining inches between our lips.

I couldn't tear my gaze away from the faint outline of his mouth. A heavy sigh escaped my lips, the warm air brushing against his skin.

He let out a low grunt in response. Slowly, his large hand traveled up to my jaw, his thumb brushing over my lower lip with a pressure that made my knees instantly buckle.

Before my mind could rationalize the mistake or find an excuse to pull away, he leaned the rest of the way down and captured my mouth with his.

I froze for a second.

Then, his fingers tangled into the back of my hair, pulling me flush against him, and that single movement shattered my defense.

I kissed him back.

A fierce, consuming hunger coursed through my veins like a sudden jolt of electricity. He tasted of dark coffee, cool mint, and a faint hint of tobacco, a mixture so heady it drove every logical thought from my mind.

He pulled me tighter against his chest, and my hands instinctively clamped onto his expensive dress shirt just to stay upright. Our movements felt frantic and desperate, as if this embrace was the only shelter from the chaotic storm raging outside the windows.

Slowly, his palms slid beneath the edge of my top, his fingers searingly hot against my bare skin.

We were wrapped in absolute darkness, standing in front of a broken elevator, surrounded by nothing but glass walls and a raging tempest. It felt incredibly reckless, terrifyingly forbidden, yet intensely right. Like this was exactly where I belonged.

And in that breathless space, the memory of Matthew, my husband, waiting for me at home, was completely washed away.