My CEO mate: Divorce made me his의 모든 챕터: 챕터 11 - 챕터 20

THEAI hate these galas.The lights. The shallow chatter. The endless string of congratulations for things that were already expected of me.I adjust the strap of my dress as I walk through the grand hall, smile pinned tight on my face like the old brooch that doesn’t go with the outfit but has to be worn anyway. My heels echo against the marble, perfectly timed with the fake laughter that fills the space.Saturday nights used to mean something else.Finn in pajamas, begging for one more bedtime story. Me, tucked into the couch with a glass of wine or a cup of hot chocolate and a heating pad because my back was killing me from work… but at least I was home. At least I was… us.And now?Now I stand under a chandelier that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, sipping champagne.I would rather be on my new king-size fluffy bed.Sebastian used to hate these events. Said it was emasculating to show up at a party held by his wife's company. Told me once that he’d rather shit on his p

THEAMy head is still foggy from the night of the gala. I count the hours it took me to stop thinking about him, about how his body had pressed against mine, how his breath had fanned my skin, or how he'd dipped his nose in the crook of my neck, breathing me in. Hell, even my own body betrayed me, reminding me Sebastian didn't touch me for two months pre the divorce. Maybe that was why I was so… frantic. Maybe that's why I'd touched myself.And I hate myself for it. Because when I came down from the high, he was the one I'd pictured. Not Sebastian.Okay, Monday is here now. And self pity doesn't pay the bills. Nor did becoming entangled with your boss. It's a recipe for disaster.I walk into Mr Harrington’s office, my hand clutching a brown folder, heels clicking against the tiled floor. Nora's already at the lounge area, tablet in hand. She lifts her head and offers me a small nervous smile. He's by the wall-to-wall window, arms folded, belt perfectly aligned with his trousers and

THEAI slam the door to his office harder than I intend to.Nora’s standing right outside, arms crossed, brows raised like she’s been waiting a while.“Took you long enough,” she says, narrowed eyes raking my body. “Why do you look like a tomato? Did you run laps in there or something?”I blink, caught off guard. “What?”“You’re flushed.” She gestures at my face. “Like full-on red. Should I be worried?”God. I hadn't realized it was that obvious.I exhale slowly, trying to keep my voice even as I let out a nervous chuckle. “Did you see the news?”Nora frowns. “The Daily Whisper thing?”I shrug. I don't even know where he saw it.Her eyes lingers on my face before she pulls out her phone, unlocks it, and holds it up. The headline glares back at me: CEO Ezra Harrington’s Secret Late-Night Meetings With Newly Promoted MD—Sources Claim It’s ‘More Than Business’.My stomach flips again, but I keep my face cold.“Yeah,” I say, voice clipped. “That.”Nora lowers the phone, scanning my expres

THEA Two weeks ago, I emailed Ezra Harrington agreeing to lean into the rumours to protect my career. Worst mistake of my life. Without counting Sebastian. And now, if hell had a waiting room, I imagine it would look exactly like Ezra Harrington’s office. This is the fifth time I'll be here. Yeah, that explains how much I hate being in his place. Same can't be said for him though.“I have rules,” I say, dropping into the chair opposite him without being offered. “Non-negotiable. Bulletproof. Ironclad.” I add.Because I'm not about to let what happened yesterday repeat itself.Ezra doesn’t look up from his laptop. He’s wearing another soul-sucking suit and a cold face that could make milk go sour..“Good morning to you too, darling,” he mutters, fingers still typing.I ignore the term of endearment. It’s the third one today, and it’s barely 9 a.m. I grip my coffee cup tighter.I clear my throat. “So boss,”He looks up,“Remember I said we should set some rules.” I repeat.He turns

THEA I sit stiffly in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead, hands knotted in my lap.Ezra’s car is stupidly luxurious. Soft leather seats, faint new-car smell, and probably enough tech embedded into the dash to launch a missile. And still, all I can think about is my car.Poor baby.Sitting there. Vulnerable. Alone. Towed.I grit my teeth and say nothing, chewing on my annoyance like a piece of stale gum.Beside me, Ezra leans back, his attention on his phone. His thigh brushes mine every time the car dips over a bump, and I’m convinced he’s doing it on purpose.The city lights blur past in gold and navy streaks. I keep telling myself to breathe. To stay calm. To pretend this is just another day and not some weird alternate universe where my boss drags me to "girlfriend duty" on a whim.The car slows, then eases to a stop.I glance up and blink.We’re parked in front of a store so expensive it's sign blares in gold engravings. Glass walls, glittering displays, and the kind of l