CEO Ambiguous Short Stories & Novels

When I defeated Natalie for the tenth time and claimed the Supermodel Champion title, her childhood sweetheart, Jared Johnson, proposed to me. With his devastatingly handsome face, he walked on stage and kneeled on one knee with a ring in hand. “Will you marry me?” I smiled and said yes. That very night, he became mine. Throughout seven years of marriage, I stepped away from the runway. Instead, I gained three beautiful children. They inherited my supermodel figure and their father’s stunning looks. Together, the four of us turned heads wherever we went. On my birthday, Jared handed me the registration form for the “Supermodel Showdown”. I knew he wanted me to live in Natalie’s shadow and be nothing more than her backdrop. However, I signed my name without hesitation. I already had the best of his genes, after all. Now, it was time to take back the crown that belonged to me.

I had been living in my new apartment complex for less than a week. For the past few days, strange packages had been showing up at my door. Every time I opened one, I found another kind of "toy" inside. There were vibrating toys, remote-controlled devices, and even realistic adult toys. You name it, they sent it. Sure, I had a weakness for that kind of thing, but I hadn't ordered anything lately. As I tried to figure out what was going on, a friend request popped up on my phone. The moment I accepted it, a video came through. A man's long fingers toyed with a flesh-pink dildo. His deep voice was full of teasing amusement. "Can that basic toy really satisfy your insatiable mouth? Why don't I train you instead?" My face burned with humiliation and anger. I forced myself to stay calm and typed back. "Sir, if you keep harassing me, I'm calling the police." He clearly didn't care. Instead, he sent me another video. A flushed woman sat on a couch, gripping a dildo as she moaned with pleasure. I froze. That was me. The footage had come from my own security camera! That bastard had hacked my camera and stolen a video of me masturbating. Before I could recover from the shock, my phone rang. It was him. His deep voice carried a lazy hint of amusement as he said, "Tomorrow night at eleven sharp, your training begins."

We had been married for three years, yet my husband, Richard Thornton, who suffered from touch deprivation syndrome, still refused to consummate our marriage. Every time his condition flared up, he would only press his forehead tightly against the curve of my neck. I assumed he was saving himself for his first love, the woman who had left years ago. Then, I overheard him talking to his friends. "Stop teasing her next time. It makes her tense up every time." "Got it, Richard. But if you care about Valeria so much, why won't you touch her? It's been three years. Aren't you worried she'll leave you for someone else?" Richard shook his head. "You don't understand. The longer we're together, the harder it is to control myself around her. She's so delicate. I'm terrified I'll hurt her. As long as she's mine, I wouldn't care even if she slept with someone else first." His friends burst out laughing. "Richard, you're all talk. If you could really handle her being with another man, you wouldn't keep running to the hospital. You think we don't know what you're up to?" The next day, I found Richard's medical records. Visit after visit, he kept asking the same question, "How can I be gentler in bed? I don't want to hurt the woman I love."

"M-Master… I-I want to…" "Touch yourself? No. You're not allowed to." It's now lunchtime, and I'm hiding in one of the bathroom stalls at the office, video calling a stranger who isn't showing his face. He's dressed mysteriously in a suit and tie, nonchalantly toying with the remote control in his hand. Meanwhile, I am at my wit's end on the bathroom floor, feeling the foreign item inside me pulsing rapidly and sending me straight to the edge. None of this is consensual. It all begins with the mysterious "Love Mission" app I accidentally downloaded and installed on my phone.

After the crash, I lost my memory. The only thing I remembered was that I'd spent six years with my childhood sweetheart, Silas Voss. But Silas insisted that I had it all wrong. My real boyfriend was his illegitimate half-brother, Elias Voss. I refused to believe him and clung to Silas. Then Elias stopped me and pulled out a recording. Silas's voice was cold and casual. "Ione is coming home soon. She's the only one I love. Seraphina hurt her head in the crash. You know everything about us, so just tell her you're her boyfriend. You're my brother. You can do this for me, can't you?" That was when I learned the truth. Silas had been in love with another woman all along. I was just the childhood friend he'd settled for while she was gone. Furious, I ran a hand over Elias's abs, then traced the hard line of his Adam's apple. "In that case, I'll give Silas exactly what he wants. I'll take you instead. Don't worry. I'll take good care of his little brother." I only said that to get under Silas's skin and vent my anger. But Elias didn't laugh or pull away. He just stared at me, his gaze dark and intense. "Seraphina, nothing would make me happier."

As the Mafia principessa, my dad banned men from my life growing up for my protection. However, when I turned twenty, my mom suddenly started arranging blind dates for me. “Please. Just go meet him.” “Mom, I’m only twenty. Am I supposed to get married already?” I didn’t understand her urgency. “I know, I know, but—” After hesitating for a long time, I finally said what was really bothering me. “The guy you introduced is almost fifty. He’s old enough to be my dad!” There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then my mom spoke carefully. “Well, actually… it’s possible he really is your father. I was young and foolish back then. More daddies, more options, right?” My silence must have been deafening because she hurried to backtrack. “Okay, okay. He is a little older, but he’s seriously handsome! A daddy among daddies. Incubus‑level hot!”

My cold-blooded Mafia boss, Don Cassius, tore my painting to shreds. Right in front of everyone. I needed to vent. I texted a picture of my legs in fishnets to my dark web sugar daddy. [Wanna be stepped on by your Mistress? Stroke it for me. Now.] I looked up. Cassius—usually an untouchable iceberg in a bespoke suit—swallowed hard. His ears flushed a dark red. Curious, I sneaked a peek at his phone. My photo. My filthy command. Both flashing on his screen. Holy shit. Ice shot through my veins. My stupid fucking thumb slipped... and hit the video call button.