The CEOs Secret affair

Alessandra’s POV

“YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS TO EXPLAIN WHY YOU JUST RUINED MY SHIRT.”

Napahinto ako habang hawak ang tissue, my eyes slowly traveling from the coffee stain on his white shirt to the man standing in front of me.

Damian Alexander Blackwood.

The billionaire CEO everyone feared. The man whose cold stare could silence an entire room—and whose dangerously handsome face belonged on magazine covers.

Unfortunately, his expensive shirt now had a brown stain because of me.

“I’m sorry, sir. It was an accident.”

“An accident?” He stepped closer. “Do you always touch things you can't afford to replace, Miss Reyes?”

Napatingala ako sa kanya. “Do you always insult people before hearing their explanation, Mr. Blackwood?”

His eyebrows rose.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then his gaze dropped to my lips before returning to my eyes.

“Careful,” he murmured. “You might regret talking to me like that.”

I forced myself to smile. “Then perhaps you should stop giving me reasons to.”

His jaw tightened.

“You're fired.”

My smile disappeared.

“Wait—what?”

“Security will escort you out.”

“Sir, please. I need this job.”

“Then you should have been more careful.”

I wanted to slap that arrogant expression off his face. Instead, I swallowed my pride because my mother's medicine was waiting to be paid for, and pride wouldn't put food on our table.

“Please give me another chance.”

His eyes studied my face, lingering on the tears I refused to let fall.

Then he leaned closer.

“Look at me when you're talking to me.”

I lifted my chin.

“I'm looking at you.”

“Good.”

His voice dropped into a quiet, dangerous whisper.

“Because I want you to remember who holds your future in his hands.”

My heart pounded—not because I was impressed, I told myself, but because I was furious.

“Then I hope you know how to hold it carefully, sir.”

I walked away before he could see how badly my knees were shaking.

I thought that was the last time I would ever see him.

I was wrong.

“Sit down, Miss Reyes.”

Damian's voice filled his office when I returned twenty minutes later.

I sat in the chair opposite his desk, determined not to let him intimidate me again.

He pushed a folder toward me.

“I need a new executive assistant.”

I glanced at the contract. The salary nearly made me choke.

“Is this a joke?”

“Do I look like a man who jokes about money?”

“Honestly? You look like a man who enjoys making other people miserable.”

His lips curved slightly.

“Yet here you are, accepting a position from me.”

“I haven't accepted anything.”

“Your mother's medical expenses are overdue, aren't they?”

My blood ran cold.

“How do you know about my mother?”

“Your employment records include your emergency contact and insurance information.”

“That doesn't give you the right to investigate my family.”

“No,” he agreed. “It doesn't.”

His unexpected admission silenced me.

He stood, walked around his desk, and stopped beside my chair.

“Take the job, Alessandra. Your family gets the assistance they need. You get a salary that will change your life.”

“And what do you get?”

He bent slightly, placing one hand on the armrest beside me.

“An assistant who doesn't run away when things become difficult.”

I turned toward him.

We were suddenly much too close.

I could smell his cologne—something dark, expensive, and distracting. His tie was loosened slightly, and for the first time, the untouchable CEO looked almost human.

Almost.

“And if I say no?” I whispered.

“Then you'll walk out of that door.”

His gaze held mine.

“But you'll spend the night wondering whether your pride was worth the price.”

I hated him for knowing exactly where to strike.

I hated him even more because he was right.

I picked up the pen and signed.

“There,” I said. “Happy now?”

He took the contract from my hand.

“Not yet.”

His eyes dropped briefly to my fingers before returning to my face.

“Welcome to my office, Alessandra.”

By nine that evening, the office was almost empty.

I was arranging documents when Damian loosened his tie and leaned back in his chair.

“Coffee.”

I stared at him.

“Please?”

He looked amused.

“Are you asking me to say please?”

“I'm asking you to remember I'm your assistant, not your servant.”

He stood slowly.

“Then perhaps you should stop looking at me like you want to argue.”

“Perhaps you should stop giving me reasons.”

He walked toward me, his footsteps quiet against the polished floor.

I stepped backward.

Unfortunately, the desk was behind me.

He stopped directly in front of me, leaving barely any space between us.

“Tell me something, Alessandra.”

“What?”

“Are you always this brave when you're alone with a man?”

I lifted my chin. “Are you always this arrogant when you're alone with a woman?”

His gaze moved over my face, studying me as though I were a puzzle he had every intention of solving.

“Usually, women try to impress me.”

“Then you should hire someone else.”

“Perhaps.”

He placed his hand on the desk beside my hip.

“Unfortunately, I'm becoming interested in the one woman who doesn't seem to care whether I like her.”

My breath caught.

“That's your problem, sir.”

“Is it?”

He leaned closer.

“Because right now, you're the one holding your breath.”

I immediately inhaled.

His quiet laugh sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.

“Annoying,” I muttered.

“Beautiful,” he replied.

I froze.

For the first time that evening, Damian seemed to realize what he had said.

His expression hardened, but he didn't step away.

“Forget I said that.”

“Gladly.”

“Good.”

Neither of us moved.

His eyes dropped to my lips again.

“Tell me to move away,” he whispered.

My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear myself think.

“You're my boss.”

“That's not what I asked.”

I should have told him to step back.

I should have remembered the contract, his reputation, and the woman whose name had appeared on his phone earlier.

Instead, I whispered, “You should move away.”

His gaze searched mine.

“Do you want me to?”

The question stole every sensible thought from my mind.

Before I could answer, his phone rang.

The screen displayed one name.

VICTORIA LAURENT.

His fiancée.

Damian stepped away, his expression turning cold again as he answered.

“Hello, darling.”

I looked down, pretending the documents in my hands were suddenly fascinating.

“Yes, I'll be home soon.”

A pause.

“No, Victoria. I'm alone.”

He looked directly at me as he said it.

Something twisted painfully inside my chest.

I had known him for less than a day. I had no right to feel anything.

And yet, when he ended the call, I couldn't stop myself from asking, “Does she know you talk to your employees like that?”

His eyes narrowed.

“Like what?”

“Like you're trying to seduce them.”

He approached me again, but this time I refused to step backward.

“Would you have preferred it if I had kissed you?”

My mouth fell open.

“You're unbelievable.”

“And you're avoiding my question.”

“I'm your employee!”

“And I'm aware of that.”

His voice softened.

“Which is why nothing happened.”

I stared at him, hating the disappointment that flickered inside me.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

“Go home, Alessandra.”

I gathered my things and hurried toward the door.

“Miss Reyes?”

I turned.

His expression was unreadable.

“Don't confuse my attention with affection.”

I forced a smile.

“Don't worry, Mr. Blackwood. I wouldn't confuse arrogance with charm, either.”

I left before he could answer.

Behind the closed door, I heard him laugh softly.

And somehow, that was worse than if he had kissed me.

At home, my phone buzzed.

An unknown number.

Unknown: Stay away from Damian Blackwood.

Another message appeared, followed by a photograph of Damian with a mysterious woman in a red dress.

Unknown: Ask him what happened to her.

Before I could reply, my phone rang.

Damian.

I answered immediately.

“Did you receive a photograph?” he demanded.

My stomach tightened.

“How do you know?”

Silence.

Then his voice dropped.

“Listen carefully. Don't show it to anyone. Don't contact the sender. And don't ask questions about that woman.”

“Why?”

“Because you have no idea what you're getting yourself into.”

I stared at the photograph.

“Who is she, Damian?”

His breathing changed.

“Someone I should have forgotten.”

“Did you love her?”

A long silence followed.

Then he answered, “That doesn't matter.”

“It matters if she's the reason you're afraid of this photograph.”

His voice became dangerously quiet.

“Alessandra, don't push me.”

“Or what?”

“Or I'll come there myself and explain why you should stay away from me.”

My heart skipped.

“Is that a threat?”

“No,” he whispered. “It's a warning.”

Then, after a pause, he added something that made my blood run cold.

“Because the last woman who ignored my warning disappeared.”

The call ended.

I stood motionless, staring at my phone.

Then another message arrived.

Unknown: He hasn't told you the worst part yet.

Below it was a final line.

Unknown: The woman in the photograph was his fiancée's sister.

And beneath that message was a photograph of a newspaper headline.

MISSING HEIRESS FOUND DEAD — POLICE QUESTION DAMIAN BLACKWOOD.

My phone slipped from my fingers.

Because the article was dated three years ago.

And the woman in the photograph was wearing the same necklace Damian had been holding in his hand when I entered his office that morning.

End of Chapter 1.