All Chapters of Sweet Revenge, Mr. CEO: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Killian’s POVThe only logical explanation was that I was losing my mind.I kept my hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel of Elena’s sedan, my eyes fixed on the bumper-to-bumper traffic paralyzing the bridge ahead. My large frame felt utterly absurd in the compact driver’s seat. My knees were too high, the headrest pressed awkwardly against the base of my skull, and the mirrors required a ridiculous angle just to see the road behind us.But the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the quiet, chaotic noise in my own head.A nanosecond. That was all it had been. A fraction of a heartbeat in that pitch-black elevator car before the lights flashed back to life. But I wasn’t thinking about the panic attack. Not at all. I was thinking about what happened after. Elena standing inches away from me.Her hand against my chest.Her eyes fixed on mine.The way her breathing had gradually synchronized with my heartbeat.The way she'd looked at me once the panic faded.And in th

Serena’s POV"The logistical lag in the western sector is averaging forty-two minutes per shift," the supervisor said, his voice bouncing off my ears instead of entering them. He tapped a stubby finger against his clipboard. "If Reyes Consulting doesn't account for the manual override times, the audit is going to flag a deficit that doesn't exist.""I'll factor it in," I said.My voice sounded too thin. Too distant.I wasn't looking at the numbers on my tablet. My eyes were fixed on the shipping office fifty feet away, where the glass door was still swinging shut. Killian had just walked inside.My thumb hovered aimlessly over a spreadsheet, but my brain was still stuck on the car ride here. Bossy. That was what he had called me. He hadn't said it with the sharp, corporate friction we used to weaponize against each other. He had whispered it with a raw, aching reverence that had nearly made my chest collapse.And for a terrifying fraction of a second, hearing him call me one of the

Serena’s POV“Girl, now this is what I’m talking about.”I stepped out of the changing room, the smooth hiss of silk brushing against my legs. The emerald dress draped perfectly, clinging to curves that still felt foreign to me, but there was no denying the effect. The deep green made my eyes—or rather, Elena’s eyes—look striking, almost lethal.Chloe let out a low whistle. She stepped up behind me in the mirror, looking like an artist admiring a masterpiece she’d just put the final brushstroke on. "Mhm. That’s the look. That is the entire concept.”I smoothed the fabric over my hip, a tight knot forming in my stomach. “I look like I belong at a high-society garden party.”“You look like you own the table,” Chloe corrected, handing me my coat and slinging her bag over her shoulder with a brilliant smile. “Which is exactly the point. Now come on. I’m driving, and I’m bringing you back like a good girlfriend. Consider it a community service project, because if left unsupervised, I know

Killian’s POVThe timer vibrated against the edge of the pool.I ignored it.The sound barely penetrated the water anyway. Just a dull mechanical buzz somewhere above me.Thirty seconds passed.Then another thirty.I stayed where I was, my back pressed flat against the smooth, cold mosaic tiles of the penthouse pool, my legs crossed at the ankles. Above me, the surface of the water continued to ripple like I wasn’t intruding on it’s space, fracturing the amber glow of the Manhattan skyline into thousands of shards. Down here, the pressure on my body was a heavy, enveloping blanket that muted the entire world into something distant, blunt, and manageable.I loved that in this place, there was nothing. No shareholders. No emergency board meetings. No endless guest lists or wedding venues.No memories.Just silence. Or at least that was the idea.‘Killian, please.’The voice drifted through the pressure, light as a cobweb, vibrating directly against my eardrums. It wasn't loud. It wasn

Serena’s POV“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"I nearly choked on my drink."Only six times."Dominic leaned back in his chair, pretending to consider the number seriously."Six?" he repeated. "That's nowhere near enough. I was aiming for at least a hundred."A laugh escaped me before I could stop it."There aren't enough hours in the evening.""That's quitter talk.""I think it's called realism.""I reject realism.""You would."His grin widened and I chuckled, my eyes moving around the room.The restaurant was warm and intimate, with a live jazz trio performing near the far wall. The music drifted softly through the room, blending with the quiet murmur of conversations and the occasional clink of glasses.For a few minutes, I almost managed to relax.Almost.Because the moment I relaxed, the guilt came back.The small victory of getting closer to Vivian at the luncheon had sustained me all afternoon, yet somehow, the satisfaction of it had faded the moment I remember