All Chapters of THE JANITOR'S DAUGHTER: Mistress for the CEO: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

“What are you doing here?" Davis asked, his voice flat, carrying all the excitement of a rock. His eyes barely lifted from the glow of his computer screen. If anything, he looked inconvenienced—like she was an interruption he had no patience for.Elena didn't offer a polite greeting. She crossed the expanse of his office with a sharp, rhythmic click of her heels, dropped her designer bag onto the empty leather sofa, and folded her arms over her chest. Her eyes were hard, shimmering with a mixture of indignation and desperation."Seriously, Davis? What am I doing here?" she countered. "I have been trying to reach you for months. I figured you wouldn't want to see me if I told her who I actually was.""She already knows who you are," Davis said drably, turning his chair back toward his computer screen as if the glowing monitor offered a sanctuary from her presence. "You said you wanted a break after that night at the gala. I didn't know the break was over.""Maybe you would have known i

Chelsea didn’t move for a long time. She sat on the edge of her bed, the glowing screen of her phone casting a clinical, blue light over her tear-stained face. She had spent days starving for a word from him, and now that it was here, the sheer volume of it was overwhelming. She gave herself hope. Maybe everything she had been telling herself—the waiting, the patience, the belief that he would come back—had not been foolish after all.Chelsea,I don’t know how to start this, so I’ll just say it the way it is.You’ve been asking about my father. About why things are the way they are. I thought I should tell you. I think I owe you that much.Chelsea’s breath slowed as her eyes moved across the words. This wasn’t what she expected.Still, she kept reading.---I wasn’t always this… detached about him.There was a time I admired him. I was a child, so of course I did. He was larger than life—successful, powerful, always surrounded by people who treated him like he mattered. I thought that

Everybody spoke of the Dylan family with a cautious, awe-inspired reverence. Her father had warned her they did not love like average people; Davis himself had described the Dylan Corp not as a mere building, but as a fortress designed to protect a curated public image. People thought twice before crossing their path. But as Chelsea sat on the bathroom floor, the haze finally cleared from her eyes. The horror of her dilemma brought a brutal clarity. She remembered that she had witnessed their capacity for ruin firsthand. Davis had been ready to discard her father’s career without a second thought. Paddy, as disgusting as he was, had seen his professional life snuffed out in a heartbeat once Queen Dylan set her sights on him. Then there was Robert— Robert’s downfall had been so complete it left no room for questions, only caution. Knowledge of these things was supposed to instill fear, but instead, Chelsea was consumed by a white-hot rage. It was so convenient of him to lead her on, t

Grief had a way of quieting everything. Susan's funeral was held two days later at Havenbrook Memorial Cemetery. The rain had stopped just before the final prayer, leaving the air damp and heavy, as though even the sky had grown tired of grieving.Chelsea stood among the mourners, at the edge of the grave, her black dress clinging to her like a second skin she could not peel off. Her body felt unnaturally heavy, as if the same soil being shoveled onto her mother’s casket was settling in her own lungs. As the first handful of earth hit the wood with a hollow thud, her heart shredded. She pressed her fingers into her palms, grounding herself in the sharp sting. But it did nothing to stop the tears that spilled freely now, hot and relentless.All the hope, all the effort. Gone.If her mother had been strong… if she had not fallen ill… if they had never come to New York—Then she would never have met Davis.And none of this would be happening.Her mother would still be here, guiding her

Chelsea had never known fear like this.The air in New York had turned thin and brittle, matching the fragile state of Chelsea’s nerves. Since the afternoon she had stormed the Dylan Corp boardroom, the world had become a place of sharp edges and lurking shadows. That singular, impulsive explosion of grief and rage—felt like a distant dream, but the consequences were a very real, waking nightmare.At the time, it had felt justified. Necessary, even.Now, it felt dangerous.She had replayed the moment over and over again—her raised voice, her trembling hands, the way she had looked at him with hurt. Looking for the man who told her that she mattered more than everything. And worse…looking at him with anger, like he was just another powerful man she could challenge and walk away from.But Davis Dylan wasn’t just any man. And his family? They weren’t just any family. Chelsea feared for her life. She knew how the world worked; you didn't strike a Dylan and walk away unscathed. They were