All Chapters of The CEO's Dept: One Night with the Merciless Emperor : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The rain in Celios had been relentless for three days, washing over the neon-lit skyscrapers like a shroud. Inside the gilded corridors of Lavetric Hotel, the air was thick with the scent of lilies and menace.Gabrielle Daniels stumbled against the velvet-lined wall, her breath coming in shallow, jagged gasps. Her vision blurred, the gold-leafed wallpaper swirling into a nauseating vortex. She could feel a terrifying heat radiating from her core.That tea.Her stepmother, Baraneil Smith, had been unusually kind that evening. "Drink, Elle. It’s for your nerves. Your father’s debt is a heavy burden for a girl your age."Gabrielle had been a fool to trust her. Now, she knew exactly what "paying the debt" meant. She was the currency."Find her! President Brute is losing patience!"The voice of her stepmother’s hired thugs echoed. Heavy boots thudded closer, momentarily clearing the drug-induced fog. She couldn't go back. President Brute was a sixty-year-old man known for his "appetite" fo

Daniels HouseBaraneil was sipping tea, a smug smile on her face. "Don't worry, honey," she said to her daughter, Yara Daniels. "By now, that brat Gabrielle is probably crying in President Brute’s bed. Once the contract is signed and your father’s debt is gone, we can finally move into the new penthouse.""But Mom, what if she tells Dad?" Yara asked, preening herself in the mirror."Your father won't care. He’s just happy to be out of the red. Besides, who would believe her?"At that moment, the heavy mahogany front doors were kicked open.The sound was like a gunshot. Baraneil jumped, spilling tea on her designer dress. "Who? What is the meaning of—"She froze.Gabrielle walked in, her head held high. Behind her, four hulking bodyguards in black suits filed into the hallway, their presence turning the luxurious living room into a cramped cage."Gabrielle?" Baraneil gasped, her face turning ashen. "You... How did you get away?"Gabrielle walked up to her stepmother, her expression as

The air in the master suite, which had been thick with a different kind of tension just moments ago, turned into a frozen wasteland. Ethan’s hand, which had been hovering near the zipper of Gabrielle’s dress, dropped to his side. His fingers curled into a fist so tight his knuckles turned white."Stay here," he commanded. His voice no longer a low growl; it was a dead, hollow sound that sent shivers down Gabrielle's spine. He looked at her for a split second, then turned around and strode out of the room without another word.Gabrielle, however, was not the type to sit quietly in a gilded cage with just a two-word command. She waited ten seconds, then followed him, hovering in the shadows of the grand balcony overlooking the hallway.Standing in the center of the marble hallway was a woman who looked like she had stepped out of a classical painting. She wore a high-end white lace dress, her hair falling in soft, innocent waves. She looked fragile, pale, yet beautiful.This was Betsy L

When Gabrielle entered the Shore Estate, the silence was deafening. The servants avoided her eyes. She walked up to the Master Suite, her heart heavy.Ethan was there. He had stripped off his suit jacket and was standing by the window, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. The moonlight caught the sharp line of his jaw."I didn't do it," Gabrielle said, her voice small but firm.Ethan turned, his eyes like twin abysses. He tossed a tablet onto the bed. "The money is in an account under your name, Gabrielle. The IP address used to send the files was traced to this very room. My security team doesn't make mistakes.""Then someone must have bypassed your security!" Gabrielle stepped forward, her hands clenched. "Ethan, think. If I wanted to sell you out, would I do it for a mere two million? I'm 'Mrs. Shore.' I could have asked for two hundred million. I'm not that stupid."Ethan’s grip on his glass tightened until it cracked. "That’s the problem. I don't know if you’re that desperate gir

The sterile hum of the interrogation room beneath the Shore Estate was a far cry from the gilded halls above. Concrete walls, a single overhead bulb swinging faintly, and the metallic scent of fear mingled with blood. The impostor—still wearing Gabrielle’s face like a stolen mask—sat strapped to a metal chair, her hospital gown torn and stained. Bruises bloomed across her arms and cheeks; her breath came in ragged gasps.She had held out for sixteen hours.Ethan paced the shadows at the edge of the room, arms crossed, expression carved from granite. He hadn’t touched her—that was Welma’s domain, precise and methodical, using methods that left marks but preserved life. Water, pressure points, sleep deprivation. No screams could be heard though; the room was soundproofed.But everyone broke eventually.“Again,” Ethan said quietly.Welma adjusted the clamp on her fingers. A twist. A muffled cry escaped her lips.“I… I don’t know where they took her,” she whimpered, head lolling. “I’m jus