CEO Short Stories & Novels

The day Arthur Reed and I signed our divorce papers, his stepsister, Chloe Bennett, watched me with red-rimmed eyes. "Lilith, I'm sorry. Once I get better, I'll step aside and give Arthur back to you. You have to believe me." I could recite that apology in my sleep. Whenever Chloe cried, Arthur gave in. To keep his depressed stepsister happy, he would put another set of divorce papers in front of me. We had married four times and divorced four times. Everyone praised Arthur as a caring brother, while I was the one who had to suffer for it. Every time the paperwork was done, Arthur would kiss my cheek and say, "It's just a piece of paper. It's temporary. Once Chloe is stable, we'll remarry. You know you're the only one I've ever loved." I believed him. I kept waiting for him to come back to me. Then last month, I was rushed to the hospital after a car accident. The doctors needed my emergency contact before they could operate. I called Arthur. He sounded annoyed. "Chloe's in a terrible state right now. She needs me. You're so strong. Can't you look after yourself?" So today, when he put the divorce papers in front of me for the fifth time to calm Chloe down, I signed without hesitating. Arthur assumed I would do what I had done the other four times and go home to wait for him to marry me again. He was wrong. This time, I meant it. He would lose both me and his fortune!

The night before I was due to marry my wealthy fiancé at the courthouse, my best friend, who studied criminal psychology, asked me a strange question. "Molly, your future mother-in-law never had children. So whose son is your fiancé?" Perhaps she thought I wouldn’t believe her. She showed me footage from twenty years ago, when my future mother-in-law spoke firmly to the press. "Even if this family line ends, I will never have a child or adopt one." I stared at her. My fiancé was already four years old twenty years ago. If he wasn’t her son, could he be my future father-in-law’s child from an affair? Then my friend slapped a medical report on the table. It showed my future father-in-law was infertile. "I checked. Your fiancé wasn’t adopted, and he isn’t the child of a relative or family friend. Something’s wrong with that family. Think carefully before you marry him." My friend had barely finished speaking when a message from my fiancé appeared. [Honey, I know we’re getting married tomorrow, but I still can’t settle down. Can I pick you up? Will you stay with me tonight?]

For three years, I had been Duncan Tohn’s executive assistant. I worked myself into the ground every day. Today, I had just finished the follow-up paperwork for an international conference when his pampered girlfriend, Morgan Eddy, cornered me in the break room. Her eyes were glistening with tears as she said she wanted me replaced. “I’m his girlfriend, and yet you’re the one who spends more than ten hours a day with him!” She bit her lip in annoyance. “From now on, he’s having a male assistant. Hand everything over.” I looked down and checked the handover list. “His personal calendar, overseas accounts, board authorizations, and the medical arrangements for the Tohn family estate, too? Has Mr. Tohn signed off on all this?” She looked at me with an arrogant expression and nodded at once. “You don’t need to ask him. He gave me signing authority, and he’s already agreed to let you go. Pack your things. You’re leaving today. Any objections?” I shook my head. I was barely holding back a laugh. “None.” I promptly printed my resignation letter and transferred administrator access for the CEO’s office. That night, I flew straight to Frostvik to see the northern lights. A month later, however, Tohn Corp’s shares went into free fall. The board held eight emergency meetings in a row. Duncan called me dozens of times before he finally got through. For the first time, he sounded almost pleading. “Come back. Name your terms.” By then, I was already in Mapleward. I was exchanging flirtatious glances with a handsome local. Distracted, I replied, “I’m sorry, Mr. Tohn, I’m afraid I’m a little busy now.”

I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

I was five months pregnant when my husband, James Fletcher, allowed his mistress to invade our lives—on the very night of our wedding anniversary. But she didn’t just come to flaunt her presence. She came to take my life. Pregnant and vulnerable, I confronted her, desperately clinging to my dignity. But the fight ended with me tumbling down the staircase, my swollen belly crashing against the cold, hard ground. Blood seeped across the floor, vivid and unrelenting. James only arrived after hearing about his precious mistress’ ordeal. He stood there, staring at the pool of blood, at my broken body. But instead of helping me, he rushed to her side. She had nothing but a few superficial scratches, yet he swept her off to the hospital like she was the one dying. By the time he returned, my child was gone. The doctors barely managed to save me. And what did James do? He struck me in front of everyone, his words sharper than the sting of his hand. "Lisa only wanted to bring you a Christmas gift, and you attacked her out of nowhere! You shameless witch!" “She didn’t force her way in! What nonsense! I gave her the house key ages ago. You just can’t stand that she’s prettier and kinder than you!" “You didn’t just hurt her. You killed my child! You vile, despicable woman. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?” Lisa stood beside him, pretending to comfort him while flashing me a smug, victorious smirk. James’s vicious tirade didn’t stop there. He dragged my name onto the internet, painting me as a monster.

My wife transplanted the donor heart I had waited for two years for to the fake heir, Sean Morgan. The doctor said I only had one week left to live, so I decided to freeze my body. I donated my body to Sean's lab. On the day I signed the donation letter, my daughter threw herself into my arms and said I had finally made up with her uncle. My parents praised me for finally understanding the deep bond and mutual support between brothers. My wife said with relief, "You've finally let go of your grudges and become an understanding person." I smiled gently. "Yes, this time I’ve really learned my lesson. I will return the status of the Morgan family heir to Sean and fulfill your wishes.”

When I went to the hospital for a checkup to see if my fourth IVF attempt had succeeded, I saw Daniel Cooper, who was supposed to be on a business trip. He was carefully supporting a young, beautiful woman as they walked out of the obstetrics and gynecology department. Her belly was unmistakably round, and she looked like she was ready to give birth at any moment. Daniel froze for just a second before stepping in front of her, shielding her from me. He explained, "Abby, the Cooper family needs an heir to carry on the lineage. Once the baby is born, everything will go back to the way it was." I heard the certainty in his words. So I smiled, nodded, and quietly tucked my test results away as he stared at me in surprise. On the day she gave birth, I left the divorce papers on the kitchen table and walked out of his life for good.

After losing a round of truth or dare, Ezra Everton pointed at me from across the room like it was nothing. "Her. The brokest girl at the whole art institute. For fun." The room exploded with laughter. Everyone waited for me to get dumped on the spot and humiliated. I was already about to tell him to go screw himself when bright red floating comments suddenly blew up in front of me— [Don't say no! Say yes! That's a walking jackpot!] [Make his heart race for one second and you'll unlock a $100,000 payout!] [I'm screaming. Ezra's family is crazy rich. One tiny leak from his wallet could build a whole new wing for Evervale Home!] [For real. He acts arrogant, but he's secretly such a softie. Win him over, and you're basically set for life!] Evervale Home. The orphanage. A hundred grand? My eyes widened. I looked at Ezra's ridiculously handsome—seriously punchable—face and swallowed the "go to hell" sitting on my tongue. Then I met his amused stare and smiled sweetly, hiding the edge in my eyes. I stepped up and hooked my arm through his. "Sure, babe."

My name is Brandon Westin, and I'm Carlisle Grayson's secretary and secret lover. No matter how cold he acts toward me, how much he humiliates me, or how often he "lends" me off to other people, I still choose to stick with him without any remorse or complaints. His friends call me a shameless lapdog. Carlisle calls me a twink, often blaming me for "turning him gay" and thus ruining his life. However, when I finally choose to leave him, he looks at me with red-rimmed eyes and asks, "How can you say that you don't love me?"

Just days after being discharged from the hospital, my husband’s adopted sister, Wendy Crowley, went live. Crying on a rooftop, she accused me of causing her miscarriage. "The ultrasound already showed it was a boy… and that woman took his life! "She can’t have children herself, so she couldn’t stand that I could. I want her to pay for my child’s death!" My husband, Tristan Crowley, believed every word. "Wendy, I failed to protect you. If I’d known she hated you this much, I would’ve locked her away long ago." The livestream sparked outrage. Everyone demanded justice. "This is murder. She’s rotten to the core!" "Where’s the law? Lock her up immediately!" However, when Tristan and Wendy tracked me down–still streaming live–everyone watching… broke down in tears.

Sienna Lewis had been with Sea City’s cold and distant CEO, Zayden Scott, for four years, but he still refused to let his guard down. So, she called her mother. “Mom, you can go ahead and arrange that pilot interview for me now.” On the other end, Helen Bennett sounded shocked. “Really? Didn’t you want to stay in Sea City and get married? You even gave up your dream of becoming a pilot.” Sienna looked at Zayden under the dim lights. He was madly obsessed with that girl and terrified of losing her. She smiled self-deprecatingly. Once she returned to Helmswick, her career would pick up again. From then on, nothing would hold her back. She would be Sienna Lewis, the pilot, again, not some pathetic woman—trapped in a forbidden love affair.

The night before the bride-selection ceremony, my best friend was having sex with my childhood friend in the most sacred underground chapel. "You're getting married tomorrow... and I'm just a stray from the slums. How could I ever be worthy of you?" Chloe said, her voice thick with tears. Victor Moretti pulled her closer into his arms. "Isn't what we're doing here proof enough of how I feel? Relax. I've already rigged tomorrow's draw. God will choose you, and only you." "But will your family accept me? Everyone knows Elia is your fiancee. Tomorrow's ceremony is just a formality..." "A formality?" He scoffed. "She doesn't even deserve the effort of me going through the motions. My wife is whoever I say she is." I stood behind the door, my nails digging deep into my palms until the sharp sting kept me alert. I used to think we were each other's rock. But from the beginning, I had been the only one who felt that way. Victor, if tomorrow's ceremony is nothing but a show you can rig however you please, I'm done playing my part. Seven days later, I walked toward the wedding car in my gown. Victor charged toward me like a man possessed, clinging to the car door as he screamed, "Elia, don't marry him! I love you..." I slapped him hard across the face and enunciated every word. "From now on, call me Aunt Elia."

My sister and I are twins, and we both have kidney failure. After a long wait, we finally find two matching kidneys. The doctor is prepared to transplant one for me and one for her. However, she breaks down in tears in my fiancé's arms—she wants both kidneys for herself. When I object, my fiancé locks me up at home. He has my sister undergo surgery to have both kidneys transplanted. "You haven't been sick for as long as your sister has. She just wants to live like a normal person—how can you be so selfish? Can't you wait for the next matching kidney?" He doesn't know that I can't wait any longer, though. I'm going to die soon.

Noah Lloyd has long since gotten sick of me—we dated for three years and have been married for another three. He uses divorce to threaten me. He wants me to give up the racing championship title I risked my life to win to please his new lover. He's caught off guard when I sign the divorce papers without hesitation and kick him to the curb. Later, he comes to me with a bouquet and the ring I've discarded. He also rents massive billboards to beg me to remarry him. Asher Princeton has someone turn off all the billboards. Then, he wraps an arm around my waist and whisks me away. "Haven't you asked around about me? How dare you propose to my wife?"

Eight months pregnant and gripped by severe contractions, I begged my husband to take me to the hospital. Instead, Emery Copeland told me to tough it out and hold the baby in, all because his widowed sister-in-law had gone into labor on the same day. Desperate to make sure my child wasn't born first and claim the Copeland family's legacy, Emery locked me inside a commercial walk-in freezer set below zero without a second thought. "The heir to the family has to be Mavis's baby," he declared coldly. "She has nothing left, while you already have all my love. It's only fair that my family's fortune goes to her child. The freezing temperature will slow your labor. You'll give birth when it's your turn." The contractions were so agonizing that I thought I was going to die. Throwing away every bit of pride, I crawled to his feet and begged him to take me to the ER, but he simply kicked me aside. "Don't think I don't know what you're trying to pull," he sneered. "You just want to get that baby out early so you can get your hands on the trust fund my father left behind. "How can you be so vicious? Forcing an early delivery just to compete with Mavis? Have some shame and think about the consequences for yourself and your baby." Pale and weak, I desperately tried to explain. "My due date is only days away. The baby is coming whether we want it to or not. "I swear on my life that my child won't touch a cent of the inheritance. I'll sign anything you want. I just want my baby to survive." Emery tore his pants leg out of my desperate grip and snorted. "You're far too calculating. Who knows what kind of scheme you're setting up? "I'm the baby's father, so I naturally want our child to be safe. But Mavis comes first. Once she delivers, I'll come back for you." Hours later, as he cradled his sister-in-law's crying newborn in his arms, he finally remembered me and instructed his secretary to bring me to the hospital. The secretary arrived trembling, his teeth chattering in horror as he whispered, "Sir... Mrs. Copeland and the baby are both dead."

I'm the daughter of the richest man in the world, constantly surrounded by countless exceptional men. Yet I fall in love with Lance Hartley, a man who has nothing. I hide my identity and pursue him, staying by his side for six years and helping him become the company's chairman. Everyone knows I'm his girlfriend and assumes I'll be the one he marries. But he abandons me and proposes to Ella Monroe, the famous movie star. The man who once swore to love me for all eternity kneels and publicly declares his feelings for her, vowing he won't marry anyone but her in this lifetime. Puzzled, my dad confronts him and demands an explanation. "Your girlfriend is clearly Lisa. Why would you marry someone else?" Lance's expression turns cold and disdainful. "She's just some poor woman with no family, no connections, no influence. Sure, she stuck by me through the hard times, but she's not wife material. Besides, she's not even in Ella's league. Why would I settle for her?" Hiding behind the door, I feel my heart shatter. In that moment, I finally understand that I'm someone he can discard at any time. I look at my heartbroken dad and smile bitterly. "Dad, I lost." I accept the arranged marriage Dad sets up for me. But just as I'm about to marry someone else, Lance kneels before me, full of regret and remorse. "Lis, I was wrong. Please don't marry him."

On the one-year anniversary of the company's public listing, my wife, Susan Lynn, publicly announced that she was gifting a supercar worth millions of dollars to her childhood friend, Charles Baker. Charles, with his arm around her shoulder, raised his glass and said, "Thank you, Susan. Here's a toast to our friendship!" I let out a derisive laugh and walked away. Susan, feeling upset, chased after me, shouting, "Angus, what's your problem? What's wrong with me giving the top salesperson a supercar? You're just a useless waste of space, and you still dare to throw a tantrum!"

After being pushed down the stairs by my husband's first love, I suffered a difficult labor with our second child and died in a corner of their family's private hospital. Before I died, my six-year-old son cried and begged for his father to save me. The first time, Shawn sneered. "Your mom's gotten smarter, using you to play the victim and trick people." After that, he flung my son's hand away and left heartlessly. The second time, my son told him I was bleeding uncontrollably. Shawn was clearly impatient. "She's being so dramatic, it's just a miscarriage, nothing serious. She's always made mountains out of molehills!" After chasing my son away, he even told the doctors not to care for me. "It's my fault for spoiling her. She'll know what she did wrong once I let her have a hard time for a few days." The last time, my son went to my husband's first love Jasmine, kneeling in front of her and knocking his head on the ground, begging her. Shawn flew into a rage and ordered bodyguards to throw my battered and bruised son out of the hospital room, allowing others to laugh at his misfortune. "If you come bother Jasmine while she's resting again, I'll kick your mom out of our family! She'll never see you again!" My son crawled to my side, leaving behind a long trail of blood. And so, I laid there helplessly as I felt the warmth escape both my son and I. 'Are you happy now, Shawn? You'll never see us again.'

For five years, I was married to the heir of the Romano family, Italy's biggest crime family. Every night, he'd hold me and whisper, "Just give me an heir, and I'll give him the entire Romano empire." But I never got pregnant, and the Don's disappointment in me grew with every passing month. Until I found out my husband had been secretly swapping my folic acid for birth control pills. I was still reeling from the fury when I saw a post from his ex-girlfriend: an ultrasound photo. Her caption was sweet and smug: “Ten weeks along. Vincent said he can’t wait to meet the baby.” Seeing the flood of congratulations, my mind was made up. I found the contact info for my ex-boyfriend—the one who’d spent the last five years trying to get me back. I sent him a single text. 【Give me one month. Then I’m coming with you.】

When Rocco Morelli, a mafia don, finds me, it's when I'm working as a stripper at an illegal bar, pleasing the men around me with sultry smiles and provocative dances. He throws his jacket over me and grabs me by the jaw, saying, "Come home with me." From that day onward, I fell in love with Rocco. After doting on me for five years, he proposes to me. Yet, in the month leading up to the wedding, he suddenly disappears. I launch a frenzied search for him before eventually seeing him in a jewelry boutique. With his arm wrapped around the dolled-up woman beside him, he picks out a 20-carat wedding ring. That woman is Emilia Leone, who is my father's illegitimate daughter. He stares at her, his eyes filled with affection. "I'll prepare the grandest wedding ceremony for you." "What about Cassandra?" Emilia asks with a coy smile. "You proposed to her, too." Snorting, Rocco replies scornfully, "Can't you tell? That's just my way of toying with her. Her older brother nearly took your life. Now that he's gone missing, it's only right for her to suffer the consequences in his place. "On our wedding day, I'll abandon her at the altar and marry you instead. She'll become the laughingstock in all of Langshore. Only you, the daughter of the Leone family, the largest mafia family, are worthy of me." The wedding day arrives, and I skip out on the ceremony as well. At Rocco and Emilia's wedding ceremony, I broadcast 99 photos of Emilia fooling around with other men. He panics and tearfully begs for me to return to him, but I take the gun my brother hands me and point it at his head, saying, "Actually, I'm the real daughter of the Leone family."