COLD CEO S PART TIME HUSBAND

The night before my first love returned, I broke up with the boy toy.

His eyes reddened as he said, "I don't want anything in return; I just want to spend a little more time with you."

The bank card I offered was refused. I paused for a moment but eventually agreed to his request.

He pushed his luck further, "You have to wear my favorite nightgown."

In the middle of the night, I lit a cigarette and leaned lazily against the headboard, watching him. "What are you looking for?"

"The clothes you bought me before. I want to take them as a keepsake," he replied, his voice carrying a barely noticeable tremor.

I sighed and beckoned him over, "Come here, let me give you a kiss."

Maverick was obedient and clean, almost the perfect lover I had molded.

If Jared hadn't returned, I might have stayed with him for a few more years.

But there was no choice; the real deal was back, and the substitute had to step aside.

1

After a year together, I knew Maverick quite well.

He was only nineteen, just starting his sophomore year, and was quite the figure at school.

I had warned him, "You can have a pure romance with a young girl, but don't let me find out."

The young man, who had been diligently peeling an apple for me, looked up in a panic, "I haven't been seeing anyone else.

You're my first love."

As if to prove his point, he lunged forward to hug me.

The light shone down on his chiseled face, even making his tousled hair appear somewhat alluring.

I hooked his chin and planted a kiss, praising him, "Good boy."

Snapping back from my memories, I looked up to see Maverick standing at the entrance with his suitcase, looking at me.

He had brought that suitcase when he moved in, and now, as he left, he took nothing but the clothes I had bought him.

I changed clothes and walked him downstairs, but Maverick refused my offer to drive him back to school, opting to call a ride on his phone instead.

Before leaving, his last words to me were, "I wasn't with you for the money."

I was momentarily choked by smoke, looking up to see him standing by the open car door, his eyes slightly red but still standing tall like a soldier at attention.

"I believe you," I said.

Hearing this, Maverick suddenly smiled, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes, a mix of longing and resentment. "We'll meet again."

I admit, I felt a moment of softness and reluctance.

But it was quickly interrupted by a call from Jared.

Picking up, I heard his familiar, cool voice, "Cara, I'm at the airport."

I gripped the phone tightly, trying to keep my tone calm, "Alright, find a place to wait. I'll come pick you up."

On the drive to the airport, I kept reminiscing.

During the most humbling years of my youth, Jared was almost a godlike presence to me.

He was high above, yet kind and compassionate, saving me from countless predicaments with ease.

When a group of boys cornered me, threatening to take indecent photos, it was Jared who happened by, smashed the camera, and pulled me behind him, saying coldly, "If you have a problem, take it up with me.

Don't bully girls."

On the coldest winter day, when I was locked out of my dorm after a shower, it was Jared who found me, made a call, and took me to his house across from the school.

My hair was frozen, and I hesitated at the entrance.

He bent down, found a pair of my mother's cozy slippers from the shoe cabinet, and placed them in front of me, "These are my mom's.

Wear them for the night."

Even when my stepfather tried to sell me off to pay his gambling debts, I ran into Jared on his way to a piano class.

His hands, once graceful on the piano, were clenched into fists, landing hard on my stepfather's nose.

Jared shielded me, saying, "Your clothes are a mess; fix them."

Then he charged again.

The incident escalated, and my stepfather, along with his creditors, were arrested for gambling.

Under Jared's protection, I finished high school and went to college.

Just when I thought my feelings for him could blossom, he went abroad.

If not for the Lawson Family's bankruptcy, bringing him back to handle affairs, I thought we might never meet again.

2

After picking up Jared from the airport, I watched him place his luggage and settle into the passenger seat. I asked, "Do you want to stay at a hotel or my place?"

Jared paused, "Your place."

His composed demeanor seemed innate, with no hint of the family's downfall.

I gazed at his elegant profile, a bit entranced, "You haven't changed a bit."

His clear gaze fell on me, "Cara, you've changed a lot."

"Really?"

I wasn't surprised, gripping the steering wheel as I started the car, "Money can buy beauty."

"No," Jared's voice was calm yet firm, "I thought you were beautiful in high school."

I chuckled softly, saying nothing.

I was pretty back then, but also vulnerable, unable to protect myself.

My striking looks and early development earned me a bad reputation, except with Jared.

So, I was grateful to him.

I brought Jared home, helped him with his luggage, and showed him to the neatly arranged guest room next door.

His gaze swept the room, stopping at the clothes on the nightstand.

He turned sharply, "Has anyone else stayed here?"

"Of course not."

I casually picked up the clothes, tossing them aside, "You're the first occupant."

I wasn't lying.

From the day Maverick moved in, he insisted on sharing a room with me.

Even during my period, he refused to sleep in the guest room, instead thoughtfully preparing ginger tea and painkillers, and soothing my cramps through the night.

Jared came over, hugging me, whispering in my ear, "Cara, no matter if you had a boyfriend before, now that I'm back, I won't let go."

Living with Jared was more pleasant than I imagined.

Compared to eight years ago, when he had just turned eighteen, he seemed less cold and more gentle and reserved.

Yet, occasional flashes of emotion revealed he still retained his youthful sharpness, just better at hiding it.

That night, when he emerged from the bathroom, his lips were tight, his expression somewhat stern.

I casually asked, "What's wrong?"

Jared's gaze was sharp for a moment but quickly masked by a calm facade.

He knelt beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist, shaking his head gently, "Nothing, just some work thoughts."

Later, when I went to the bathroom, I found an electric shaver in the trash, clearly used, left by Maverick.

I hesitated, recalling the scene when I gave it to Maverick.

The young boy had cheered, dramatically hugging me and planting a hot kiss on my cheek.

I laughed, "You haven't said if you like it."

Without hesitation, he replied, "I love everything you give me!"

Coming back to reality, I hesitated but retrieved the shaver from the trash, cleaned it, and put it in a box.

I'll find time to contact Maverick and return it to him; after all, he's used to it.

3

I spent several days at home with Jared until Jeffrey called, and I had to return to the company for some project decisions.

Upon meeting, he teased, "Ms. Clark, even you have days when you forsake your responsibilities?"

Jeffrey held shares in my company and had helped me a lot.

During my toughest times, if not for his trust and decisive investment, along with introducing a major order, I might still be working multiple jobs to pay off debts.

Back then, I had prepared a gift to thank him, but he was holding his girlfriend and didn't even glance at me. "No need, I just trust my own judgment."

Jeffrey's name is renowned in this industry.

He started his business at nineteen, and his flawless decision-making record even got him featured in university textbooks.

In my mind, he's someone so strict that he wouldn't allow himself to lose control for even a second.

As I signed the papers, I said without looking up, "Your first love is back, you should roll out the red carpet for her."

After I said that, he didn't respond for a while. I looked up, puzzled, only to find Jeffrey standing at my desk, leaning over and looking down at me.

"Your first love... the one named Jared?"

"Yes," I replied, lowering my head again to sign the last contract. "Jeffrey, you knew this already.

Besides, you have a fiancée. Don't tell me you're jealous."

There was a time between Jeffrey and me.

Of course, I prefer to call it a casual fling between consenting adults.