Stuck With The Bossy CEO

My boyfriend disappeared a few months before our engagement, and I was frantic, searching for him desperately for two years.

When we met again, he had become an elite heir of a wealthy family and had gained a "long-time family friend."

I was furious. Seizing the moment when he went to the men's restroom, I shook off the people around me and followed him, only to be pinned against the door and warned, "Don't mess with me."

"We never broke up. You are mine," I said stubbornly, asserting the truth I had always believed in.

Preston lowered his long lashes, a hint of gloom in his eyes. "And then what?

Become your lover?"

"Preston, are you okay?"

Tatiana's voice broke the tense and awkward silence between us from outside.

My heart tightened, and what hurt more was Preston's reaction.

He covered my mouth, clearly concerned about making any noise that might arouse his "long-time family friend's" suspicion.

"It's nothing, I'll be out soon.

You go ahead," Preston replied, his voice losing its usual coldness.

Tatiana obediently left, and only then did Preston remove his hand from my lips. He glanced at the red on his hand, turned, and walked to the sink, cleaning up leisurely.

"Preston, do you think I would deliberately make noise to upset her?"

I stared at his slender, lean back, trying to see through his thoughts.

"Wouldn't you?"

He questioned me as if it were obvious, raising his long eyebrows and looking at me through the mirror.

"I would."

I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth, deliberately ignoring the pain in my heart. "And not just that."

"Jennifer, curb your schemes and tactics," Preston glanced at me, his long eyes full of warning and sarcasm.

He brushed past me with finality, his back telling me clearly: we were over long ago.

1

I stood there dazed for a long time before I came to my senses.

As I pushed the door open, I bumped into Rhett.

"What is Ms. Lambert doing here?"

Rhett, who was more beautiful than most women, raised an eyebrow and smirked at me, both charming and infuriating.

Rhett was the adopted son of the Morrison Family. Today, the legitimate heir was found, and I had intended to see Rhett's downfall. Who knew the prince was my runaway boyfriend?

My desire to kick someone when they were down vanished instantly.

There are no permanent enemies in this world.

I should collaborate with Rhett, help him win Tatiana's heart, and replace Preston in the Marsh Family alliance.

I straightened my dress and looked up at him with a natural smile. "Waiting for you."

Having dealt with me many times, Rhett knew my nature well. He closed the restroom door behind him. "Is the sun rising in the west?"

"Preston is my boyfriend, but we had a little disagreement. You help me reconcile with him, and I'll help you win over Tatiana, securing your precarious position," I proposed straightforwardly.

Rhett lowered his long lashes, pretending to think. "Oh, I remember now. The little canary you were searching for at the airport two years ago, right?

Oh, Preston has such a history?"

His words were dripping with sarcasm.

"Think about it," I said, brushing off imaginary dust from his chest.

As I was about to leave, he stopped me. "But I don't like Tatiana. How about some other reward?"

I hated people who pushed their luck.

Turning around, I grabbed his collar with a hint of anger. "You don't like money?

You don't like the Marsh Family's influence?

You don't like the Morrison Family's status?"

Clearly, Rhett and I were both quick-tempered individuals who would turn hostile at the slightest disagreement.

He gripped my wrist tightly, squinting his eyes with a mocking smile. "Jennifer, get it straight. You're the one asking me for a favor!"

I struggled to free my wrist, rotating it to ease the pain. "It's cooperation. I asked you to consider it. If you don't like it, I have other ways."

"Fine, just be nicer to your partners in the future. You're so young, always with a cold face. Who would like that?"

Rhett bent down, teasingly brushed my cheek, and walked into a stall before I could get angry.

I had no interest in watching men use the restroom, so I swallowed my anger and left.

Sitting on a sofa in the corner of the hall, I couldn't help but watch Tatiana and Preston.

They looked like a perfect couple.

As the banquet wound down, a row of wine glasses lined my table. Even I didn't know how much I had drunk.

Forcing myself to stand, I walked over to Preston and looked up at him. "Preston, take me home."

He kept a cold face. "Miss Lambert, since you've had too much to drink, please wait a moment. I'll arrange for someone to take you home."

"I want you to take me."

I saw him frown, intending to refuse, so I found another reason. "I have something important to tell you, just this once."

Perhaps moved by my "just this once," Preston hesitated, then bent down to gently explain something to the equally gentle Tatiana beside him.

I couldn't hear it.

In my sight, there was only him.

But he only had eyes for someone else.

Bitterness slowly crept in, and I couldn't help but turn away.

"Let's go."

Preston spoke as he passed by me, but his steps didn't slow.

I wore ten-centimeter stiletto heels. Though they looked elegant, they weren't easy to walk in.

Preston might have known, but he didn't care, heading straight for his Maybach parked at the entrance.

He opened the car door and got in. As soon as he fastened his seatbelt, Preston hit the gas, and we drove in silence, so quiet that even our breathing was inaudible.

It wasn't until we reached my home's gate that he turned off the engine and got to the point. "What is it?

Speak."

"I've been looking for you these past two years, and I didn't get engaged."

He was stunned for a long time, then softly replied, "Hmm."

Perhaps the damage was already done.

I hadn't taken our relationship seriously enough back then, but I truly only liked him and still do.

Unable to bear his indifferent demeanor, I unbuckled my seatbelt, leaned over, half-kneeling on his lap, and kissed him, pouring all my emotions into it.

Preston was stunned for a moment, then abruptly pushed me away.

My head hit the car roof, the pain intense, but what hurt more was something else.

"Jennifer, don't act like a madwoman," Preston squinted at me.

I didn't know if it was the pain or the sadness, but my eyes were red, my hair disheveled from the struggle, probably really looking like a madwoman.

I wiped the smeared lipstick, looking at him with determination and sincerity. "You don't like me anymore."

That statement hurt me more than anyone else.

Preston turned his head to look out the window, even taking out a cigarette to light.

He didn't say it directly, but his silence was more painful than an admission.

An admission might have allowed me to imagine he was just angry with me; silence left only the undeniable truth.

Being the only girl in the Lambert Family, I had known from a young age that I was the heir to the Lambert Group, bearing extraordinary pressure.

So I never cried.

But now, my tears wouldn't stop falling.

Yet my voice remained calm. "Preston, I know I was a jerk back then. I wronged you. I can make it up to you, but I can't let you go."

The cigarette burned his fingertips, snapping Preston back to reality. His voice was hoarse, devoid of emotion as he glanced at me.

"Get out."

Perhaps he knew how persistent I could be.

After all, he had been won over by my persistence and determination back then, so Preston didn't refute my words.

As soon as I got out of the car, he started the engine and drove away.

Watching the taillights grow distant and dim, my heart grew colder and heavier.

What I set my mind on, even if it's someone's heart, must belong to me.

2

Tatiana, free from family pressures, was a lady of leisure and wealth, dabbling in art.

She rented the largest gallery in City A, the Sky City Pavilion, for an art charity auction.

When I received the invitation, I was so busy that I barely had time to breathe. I wanted to toss the delicate white card aside, but then I saw the auction's highlight—Memory.

This was a pair of couple rings symbolizing love that looks back.

Designed by a famous Swoesau jeweler who reunited with his first love after thirty years apart, they were priceless.

Did Tatiana really manage to get them?

In a good mood, I held the card, pushed aside all my documents, accepted the invitation, and called Rhett. "Join me at the Sky City Pavilion?"

Rhett, lounging somewhere cozy, replied lazily, "What about your intended?"

"It's not my fiancé; he's still on a business trip to Esneau and hasn't returned."

"I'm spending money to win over Tatiana. Are you going to foot the bill?"

Rhett scoffed, clearly uninterested.

"I can."

"Ms. Lambert, you're generous. Send me the location once you're ready."

When Rhett arrived, he was particularly gentlemanly, even opening the car door for me.

Naturally, I bowed politely in return.

Once inside the car, I leaned back and closed my eyes, ignoring the person beside me who was rudely staring. "Have you seen enough?"

"Ms. Lambert, you really do look the part."

"Well, you're not too bad yourself."

Rhett was momentarily at a loss for words and changed the subject. "Why are you so determined to attend Tatiana's charity auction?

There's no publicity, no reporters, just a bunch of people from the circle. It's a thankless task.

Are you really doing it out of the goodness of your heart?

You?"

To be honest, I'm not a saint.

"Tatiana managed to get Memory, a rare and valuable piece of jewelry, and it's mentioned in the invitation.

I want to bid on it as a gift for Preston."

"Oh, Ms. Lambert, when you get extravagant, you really go all out."

I ignored his sarcasm. It wasn't until the car stopped at the entrance of Sky City that I put on a smile and walked inside with Rhett.

Preston had already arrived and was standing beside Tatiana, listening to her speak with a look of indulgence.

I suppressed my discomfort and sat in the front row with Rhett.

"To be honest, in terms of looks, you two aren't in the same league; in terms of family background, you're the only daughter of the Lambert Family; in terms of figure, you definitely win, since I don't like flat ones anyway.

But do you know where you lose compared to Tatiana?"

"Where?" I didn't admit defeat. Until the end, the outcome is undecided, but I was still willing to listen.

Unfortunately, he couldn't say anything nice: "It's your personality!

That sharp tongue, that sour demeanor, that repulsive character—who would like that?"

I let out a cold laugh, not taking his words to heart.

The auction began, and I symbolically raised my paddle a few times.

Rhett, knowing I had his back, bid on anything he liked, spending money recklessly.

When Memory appeared, the room even quieted down a bit. When the price reached eighty million, there were finally no more bidders.

At one hundred and twenty million, I thought I could secure Memory, but then Preston raised his paddle.

I met his gaze across the room, looking into his dark eyes.

He wouldn't be giving it to me, so Memory had to be mine.

Preston could only get the men's ring.

When the bid reached two hundred and seventy million, Preston stopped, and I secured Memory at a price far beyond my budget. During the brief moments on stage, I wasn't happy.

Because the one who set me up was Preston.

Perhaps he really wanted Memory, but since he wasn't giving it to me, it was even more infuriating.

After saying those grandiose words, I looked at Preston sitting below and smiled gently. "Since Mr. Morrison likes Memory so much, I'll give it to him as a welcome-back gift."

The crowd erupted in astonishment.

No one expected me to give away the two hundred and seventy million Memory so generously.

Amidst the chaotic murmurs and speculations, my smile deepened.

Recently, I've heard his name paired with Tatiana's far too often, and I don't like it.

"Thank you for your kindness, Miss Lambert. You should keep it for your wedding.

I'm sure Mr. Clayton would appreciate it," Preston replied, politely declining after a brief moment of surprise.

He even stood up and nodded slightly at me before leaving the exhibition center, making a clean break between us.

I took Memory off the stage and left the venue, heading towards the underground parking lot, where I happened to block the path of a Maybach just pulling out. I immediately stepped in front of the car.

Preston slammed on the brakes, rolled down the window, and looked at me as I approached the passenger side. "Do you have a death wish?"

His face was a bit pale.

I opened the passenger door and got in, handing him the men's ring from Memory. "No, I'm not."

Preston didn't even glance at it, let alone take it. "Stop doing meaningless things."

"How can it be meaningless? The designer of Memory and his first love reunited after thirty years. We've only been apart for two years. Why can't we?"

I insisted, forcing the ring into his hand. "If you don't want it, just throw it away."

Preston looked at the ring in his hand for a moment, then opened the window and tossed it out without hesitation.

My heart stopped for a moment.

It felt like he threw away not just half of the two hundred and seventy million but also something else—like my genuine feelings, which he had no interest in.

Perhaps, in his eyes, my sincerity was false and vain, a distortion that severely devalued Memory.

I clutched my dress helplessly, my voice already hoarse. "It's okay. It was my fault back then."

"You didn't wrong me. I don't hate you. I'm just too tired to get entangled with you. Do you understand?"

Preston reached out and pinched my chin, preventing me from lowering my head to hide my tears.

"You say crocodile tears—are they worth anything? Are they useful?"

He looked at me quietly, his words harsh, yet his gaze held no mockery. Perhaps he simply believed he was stating a fact.

I overestimated my emotional resilience, or rather, my tolerance in front of Preston.

I closed my eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze any longer, and opened the car door to leave.

He must have wanted to avoid running into me again. Even after I left Sky City, Preston didn't emerge from the underground parking lot.

Preston had a car accident. When I heard the news, I dropped the glass I was holding, postponed the meeting, and rushed to Evergreen Meadows Hospital.

By the time I arrived, the Morrison Family and Tatiana were already gathered around him.

His head was wrapped in bandages, his face pale—a delicate appearance that evoked sympathy.

"Mr. Morrison, Mrs. Morrison," I greeted Preston's parents with a nod.

They probably didn't expect me to get the news so quickly, let alone rush over with such enthusiasm and urgency.

The rumor that the Lambert Family's daughter was cold-blooded had long circulated in the circle, especially after she schemed against her own father last year to seize power.

No one wanted to befriend a shark.