The CEO's Fake Girlfriend のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Lucas fucking Chen. Of all the boutiques in Manhattan. I knew that smug tone anywhere. Chen Capital's golden boy himself. "Oh my God!" She squealed like a fangirl and jumped off my lap. "Lucas Chen? The Lucas Chen?" I remained seated, watching this nauseating display unfold. The world's most irritating man—owner of top-ranked fintech app that had knocked mine to third place—was now receiving the full force of Camila's charm. "I can't believe it's really you," she gushed, her hands clasped together. "You look even more handsome in person!" "Do you know me?" Chen asked, his perfect white smile gleaming under the boutique lights. "Yes! I've followed your work for years. Your investment in climate-friendly startups last year was brilliant. And the way you integrated BC verification into Chen Capital's security protocols changed the entire industry! Not to mention your charity work with—" She knew his charitable organizations? His business moves? Well, golddiggers stalk before makin

The PR team filed into the conference room and froze when they saw me in Lucien’s chair. "Um... Mr. Hayes..." one woman with a tight bun stammered. "Miss Sterling, since you are reporting to me today," I told her, spinning slightly in the leather chair. "My boyfriend has allowed me to take points on our media strategy since the current approach is failing spectacularly." The team shifted uncomfortably. A balding man cleared his throat. "With all due respect, Miss Sterling, we've been managing Mr. Hayes's public image for—" "Five years," I finished for him. "And in those five years, you've created exactly what image? The ice king of finance? The untouchable bachelor? Great for business meetings, terrible for consumer apps." Paying Blake to stir up drama had worked. It worsened Lucien’s image and put pressure on him and our 'relationship'. One step closer. I don't need him pushing me away. "Real people want authenticity and relatability. They need candid, humanizing momen

My feet felt like lead as I climbed the stairs. The angry man who'd stormed into the penthouse was gone. In his place stood the polished mask he wore for the world. Perfect, detached, and infuriatingly calm. "Let's get this over with," I muttered, stepping past him into the room. His bedroom was minimalist. A massive bed with charcoal sheets, white-painted walls, and sleek furniture with intricate designs. The air smelled faintly of soap and steel—like him. I turned to find Lucien watching me, that sharp gaze muted but no less invasive. "How do you want to do this?" he asked. I cleared my throat. "I had a specific shot in mind for the post." "Go on." "You lying on your stomach, and I'd straddle your back, reading a book." I hated how awkward the words sounded. "I don't need to show your face, just the tattoo and your back. We need to give the public the tip, just enough to make them hungry for more." He stared at me so long I thought he might protest, until his lips

Lucien's POV Rafael paced like a caged animal. He’d seen the photo ten minutes ago and hadn’t stopped since. "Using her for PR was a mistake! What has she brought us? Drama. Problems. And now this. You'll have to withdraw from the European consortium bid. Three months of work down the drain because she decided to get drunk with an asshole." His voice rose with every word. Rafael had stood by my side through every crisis, every victory. His protectiveness of me and Hayes Corp was expected, even appreciated. But right now, his voice was merely background noise to the one thing in my thoughts; Did Lucas touch Camila? The penthouse bell rang, and my eyes shot toward the entrance. She was here. A strange flutter of anticipation stirred in my chest at the thought of her walking in with those hazel eyes filled with their usual fire. I maintained my position on the leather settee, refusing to acknowledge the sudden alertness that had replaced my brooding. Rafael yanked open the

My breath caught in my throat as Lucien's arm tightened around my waist. The sudden intimacy stunned me into silence. His body radiated heat against mine, solid and secure as I perched awkwardly on his lap. I turned to face him, a silent question in my eyes. What are you doing? Lucien's thumb began tracing slow circles on the small of my back. Each stroke sparked something molten in my belly. I shifted slightly, trying to escape the sensation, but his grip remained firm. Lucas stared at us, face contorted with rage. "You want me to beg? Her?" He jabbed a finger in my direction. "She's a kitchen girl you hired to play house with you." I glanced at Lucien again, catching the challenge in his eyes, the slight lift of his brow. Play along, his expression seemed to say. Snapping back to reality, I sat up and met Lucas's glare. "That's right," I found my voice. "This kitchen girl expects you on your knees, bowing at her feet if you want us to spare whatever's left of your