REVENGE: MESSING WITH MY CEO

oft velvet curtains draped over tall windows, a chandelier that sparkled like a thousand tiny stars, and a desk so glossy and polished it practical

ibly handsome man, both of them with their arms around each other, looking like they didn't have a c

er her breath and threw the phone down on the desk. "Fucking hell," she muttered, reaching for h

embedded in the desk, her finger hovering over the button that would reveal who was outs

her. He waited, almost like he was afraid to speak. Elodie flicked her hand, a habit she had developed, her signal for him

sfied smile, her lips curving up into a smirk that showed she was clearly pleased by whatever he had told her. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of danger in them. She ga

irk still playing on her lips. Whatever the news was, it had clearly put her in a good mood. She picked up her phone again, s

a small crowd of photographers and reporters, their cameras flashing like a storm of blinding lights. The man stepping off the plane seemed compl

hair that was just the right amount of tousled. His skin was tanned, like he'd just returned from some luxurious getaway, and he had a look that co

ed his every move, he wasn't just influential-he was someone people wanted to see, someone who mattered. He walked

is gaze straight ahead, his steps steady, as if he had somewhere much more important to be. The came

buzzed in his pocket. He reached for it, glancing down at the screen. A slight frown crossed his face as he sa

t into the car, and the driver shut the door behind him, cutting off the noise from outside. The c

thud, sealing him in the cocoon of luxury and tinted glass. He leaned back, taking a deep breath, trying to let the tension of t

the crowd. The sign was simple, almost crude, with hastily scrawled letters in bold black ink: WHAT HAPPENED TO HER, DAMO

look. Was that really what it said? He shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter, craning hi

ustration. "Stop the car," he barked, his voice low and commanding. The driver glanced back at hi

he sign. Nothing. Just a few people milling around, chatting, some carrying bags, others taking

raced, and his jaw clenched. "Did you see that?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. A plac

tricks on him? He shook his head, trying to dismiss the unsettling feeling creeping up his spine. But he

ckly as it appeared, leaving only questions in its wake. He exhaled sharply and turned back to the car, his expressio

g for instructions, but he just shook his head, waving him of

thigh, trying to calm the rapid beat of his heart. Was it a coincidence? A hallucination? Or

: something was off. And he wasn't going to res