All Chapters of My Ex-CEO : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Jacques hadn’t spoken to me since that night. Not a text. Not a glance. Nothing.But I saw him. In the morning, when I stepped out for air. In the evening, when I came back from work. We passed each other like strangers who used to be something more even though we never really were. Not officially. Not physically.But God, it still hurt.There were too many almosts between us. Too many unsaid things hanging like ghosts between the walls.He was avoiding me on purpose. And I let him.That didn’t stop me from thinking about him. Not for a single second.Fab caught me staring out the window more than once.“You know, for a guy you never even kissed, he’s sure got a permanent lease in your brain.” Fab said as she passed me coffee.I didn’t argue. What was the point?Even Octavia who usually lived in her own chaotic orbit paused while reapplying her lip gloss and asked, “Still no word from him?I shook my head.“Well,” she sighed dramatically, “men are a plague.”That made me laugh. A litt

Carmen’s POV I woke up to silence. Not the comforting kind the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket on a cold morning. No, this silence felt hollow. Empty. Like something… or someone… was missing. I sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The apartment was still, the only sound the soft hum of the fridge from the kitchen. Caleb usually made coffee before I even rolled out of bed. It was his unspoken ritual his way of keeping me human in the morning. But today, no coffee. No footsteps. No sarcastic “Good morning, sweetheart.” I frowned. “Caleb?” No answer. I grabbed a sweatshirt from the chair and padded down the hallway, my socks whispering against the floor. His door was cracked open. The bed made too perfectly. Not the usual lazy way he tossed the blanket over and called it good. This looked… untouched. I pushed the door open all the way. “Caleb?” I tried again, quieter this time. Still nothing. My stomach pinched. Not panic. Not yet. But something tugged l

His hands stayed on my waist, thumbs moving in slow, agonizing circles like he was trying to memorize the feel of me.“Carmen…” he murmured, like my name was some kind of fragile secret. His voice was hoarse. Barely there.I pressed my forehead to his and exhaled shakily. “Don’t say anything. Just… don’t.”Because if he spoke, if I let myself think too hard about this about us I might break.He didn’t argue. His lips found mine again, but this time the kiss was deeper. Not rushed. Not reckless. Just intense. His fingers slid up under my sweatshirt, slow and deliberate, skimming the bare skin of my back until I shivered. He waited for a beat like he was asking permission without words before tugging it over my head. I let him. The fabric hit the floor, forgotten.Then my hands were in his hair, pulling him closer as I straddled his lap. I could feel every rise of his chest against mine, every tremor in his breath.“I missed you,” he whispered into my neck. “Even when I didn’t deserve t

Blake’s POVShe smiled.Not the real kind, not the one that reached her eyes and made the whole damn room tilt. This one was practiced. Polite. Like she was trying not to break something fragile between us.And maybe she was. I handed her the coffee, brushing her fingers with mine.“Come eat,” I said, pretending not to notice the tightness in her voice. “Waffles are getting cold.”She followed me back to the kitchen, silent except for the sound of her sipping coffee. I loaded her plate, added extra strawberries the way she liked, and waited for her to meet my eyes.She didn’t.“You sure everything’s okay?” I asked.She nodded. “Yeah. Just didn’t sleep great.”Lie.I knew her too well for that. The way her jaw tensed when she was overthinking. Something was wrong. Or someone.But I didn’t push. Not yet.Instead, I leaned back in my chair and watched her pick at her waffles.Carmen never picks at food.“I was thinking we could drive out to the cliffs later,” I offered. “Catch the sunset

Jacques’ POV Something felt off. It wasn’t the café, or the breeze, or even Fab going on about that trash reality show she loved to hate. It was the quiet. Carmen quiet. Not just not talking quiet. Not in the area quiet. She’d said she’d be right back just popping into the boutique. That was… what, five minutes ago? Maybe seven. But now, the shop next door looked still. Too still. I glanced at the door. No movement. Just that soft, golden light glowing from inside. “I’ll check on her,” I said, already standing. Fab barely looked up from her phone. “Tell her to hurry. I have dinner plans with my third favorite cousin.” The bell over the boutique door jingled softly as I stepped in. Instantly lavender. Wood. Paper. But no Carmen. I scanned the room, expecting her near the shelves, maybe flipping through one of those overpriced notebooks she always swore she'd actually use this time. Nothing. My brows knit together. There was a girl behind the counter, earbud