THE JANITOR'S DAUGHTER: Mistress for the CEO

“Davis, I think we should take a break.”

Elena did not choose her office because it was romantic. But he had dropped by and it was the perfect opportunity to make such an announcement since they rarely saw much of each other these days.

 Her words landed gently, yet they cracked something loud and ugly inside him.

“A break?” he repeated, lips curling into a humorless smile. “Is that what people say now when they’re tired of pretending?”

Elena flinched. “That’s not fair.”

“Then explain it to me fairly,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Our engagement ceremony is just around the corner, Elena. In a bit. And now you want a break?”

She inhaled deeply, as if she had rehearsed this moment a hundred times and still feared she would forget her lines. “I’m starting my residency soon. Medicine isn’t… it isn’t something you do halfway. I need focus. I need space.”

“Space from me?” His voice sharpened. “Or space from being my fiancée?”

Her silence answered him too quickly.

Davis laughed under his breath, shaking his head. In a world where women chased him openly—where being associated with his name alone could open doors—Elena was asking for distance. 

“You know,” he said quietly, “most girls would kill to be where you are right now.”

Elena finally looked up, her dark eyes steady. “I’m not most girls.”

He had known that from the beginning. Maybe that was the problem.

Five years. That was how long they had been walking this thin line of a relationship. Five years they had been together, molded by their mothers’ hopes. Five years of shared dinners, shared holidays, shared futures discussed long before either of them truly understood what love demanded.

Elena was not from the wealthiest of families. But her family was a respectable one that upheld traditions. She came from a long line of medical practitioners. Her mother, though retired, was well-known for her expertise in her field. It brought about their connection to important people like Queen Dylan, Davis's mum. A silent but strong burden rested on Elena to take up the mantle and make her family proud too. Becoming a doctor wasn’t just ambition—it was survival. It was defiance.

Davis, on the other hand, had grown up with abundance. With options. With certainty. He had given Elena things she never asked for—designer dresses, surprise trips, expensive jewelry—each gift a quiet promise that she no longer had to struggle.

And yet here she was.

Still unsure about him.

“So what happens during this break?” Davis asked, his tone dangerously even. “You focus on your career, and I… what? Wait?”

“Focus on yourself,” she said quickly. “You.. you have always managed to fill your days with parties and luxury. That's all we do in this relationship: play to the gallery, feature in papers, smile for the cameras. It seems to be your answer to everything yet you are not open with me. You only tell me things you want me to know about you. I can barely understand you.”

“Understand what?” He leaned forward now. “That I am taking the pains to make you happy and yet you aren't content with this anymore?"

“But Davis, this is what makes me happy,” she corrected, waving at the whole room. “My job. I’ve worked too hard to get here and you distance yourself from me because you feel I am too engrossed with my job.”

“You are engrossed with your job, Elena." He cut her abruptly. "You and I know that is the truth. But maybe you are right. Maybe I should focus more on myself instead of taking my precious time to drive over to check on you."

He studied her face, searching for cracks. Searching for guilt. For fear. For another name hidden behind her resolve.

A nagging doubt lingered in his mind, refusing to be silenced. Was she seeing someone else? The thought of another man capturing her attention felt like an itch he couldn't scratch. Yet, there was no sign. Elena wasn’t the type. She didn’t flirt. She didn’t hide her phone. She was always honest, studied late, and loved cautiously.

That almost made it worse.

“You’ve never once complained,” he said slowly. “I give you everything. Support. Security. Love. What else do you want from me?”

Her grip tightened on the cup. “You’ve given me so much, Davis. I’m grateful. Truly. But none of those things can replace purpose.”

His ego recoiled at the word replace.

“So I’m optional,” he said flatly.

“No,” she whispered. “You’re important. But I need us to go beyond luxurious gifts to proper communication and understanding. Money can't solve everything.”

The words cut deeper than anger ever could.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air conditioner's low hum filled the silence—the muted conversations outside the door, life continuing without regard for the fracture forming between them.

Davis stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “You know what is absurd?” he said, looking down at her. “Not that you want a break. But the fact that you think it's my fault we have grown distant when you do nothing but obsessed over your work. I might have been busy with my own affairs, but I at least have the decency to try to make up for lost times.“

Elena rose too with a note of finality. “I am truly sorry if you see it that way.” she said. “I’m trying to stay—without losing myself in the process.”

He stared at her for a while wondering where he went wrong.

“Take your break,” Davis said at last. “But don’t expect me to pretend this doesn’t change everything.”

She nodded, tears finally spilling. “I hope it doesn't. But if it does, I hope we are both happy at the end.”

As he walked away, and Elena, watching his retreating back, wondered if choosing herself would cost her the

one person that gave her the security and comfort any girl could dream of.