Chapter 24:Drooling

Aileen's POV*

The next morning, I woke up with a slight headache. But the faint throb in my temples wasn’t enough to stop me from doing my morning routine, so I shuffled into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and I sighed, hoping the caffeine would jolt me back to life.

As I made my way back to the guest room, mug in hand, I froze mid-step. My gaze locked onto the figure in the living room, and for a moment, I wondered if I was still dreaming. Standing there, bathed in the golden rays of the morning sun streaming through the wide-open windows, was Anthony. His chiselled physique was on full display, as he wore nothing but a thick towel slung loosely around his waist. His broad shoulders, toned abs, and the way his skin seemed to glow under the sunlight left me momentarily stunned.

He ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair, brushing it back in a casual yet mesmerizing gesture. His pacing was slow and deliberate, his hands resting on his hips as though he were deep in thought. The golden light danced on his skin, highlighting every defined muscle. My jaw dropped and I muttered under my breath, "Wow."

I barely recognized my own voice, filled with awe and disbelief. My eyes widened, captivated by his undeniable allure. "He's such a demigod," I whispered, completely unaware that I had spoken a bit loud. My fingers trembled slightly, and I almost spilt my coffee on the flat surface.

It wasn’t just his physique that held me spellbound—it was the sheer presence he commanded, even in such a casual moment. Anthony Price, the enigmatic billionaire CEO, was a man of mystery and power. Yet here he was, looking like a figure straight out of a painting, his vulnerability and quiet strength laid bare.

But as I stood there, captivated, another thought crept into my mind, "I can't believe his wife cheated on him?" The rumour of his wife’s supposed infidelity echoed in my head, and I couldn’t reconcile the image before me with that story. He was perfection personified, and I felt a pang of sadness for the man who had endured such betrayal.

My reverie was shattered by a soft, feminine voice. "Mrs. Price, you're back."

Startled, I let out a small gasp, nearly spilling my coffee. My head whipped around to see an older woman, likely in her late sixties, standing a few feet away. She had a kind face, her warm eyes framed by soft lines of age, and she wrung a small towel in her hands as she smiled at me.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, still shaken. My nerves were on high alert, as my eyes darted to the name tag pinned to her shirt. It read "Laura".

"Oh, Hi, Laura," I said, quickly regaining my composure. "I’m Aileen. I’m Anthony’s personal assistant." I placed a hand on my chest as I introduced myself, hoping to steady my breath.

Laura’s smile widened, but there was a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "I’m sorry, Aileen. I thought Anthony had finally brought his wife back," she said warmly.

Her words struck me like a jolt. "Oh, no, no, no!" I stammered, waving my free hand dismissively. "Actually, I brought him back last night because he was drinking too much. And It was late, so I stayed in the guest bedroom on the second floor."

Laura nodded understandingly. "Alright, Aileen. I work here as the cook."

Relief washed over me. "Oh, it’s nice to meet you," I said with a smile.

Laura’s gaze turned curious as she tilted her head. "Wait, did you make some soup last night?"

"Uh, yeah," I admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. "He wasn’t feeling well, so I thought soup might help."

Her eyes sparkled with recognition, and a soft laugh escaped her lips. "What a coincidence," she murmured, stepping closer.

"Coincidence?" I echoed, curiosity tugging at me.

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as though sharing a treasured secret. "Well, Anthony loves soup. His mother used to make it for him every day when she was still alive. It’s his ultimate comfort food." She said with crinkled eyes.

I blinked in surprise. "Really?"

Laura nodded a wistful smile on her face. "Yes. It’s the one thing that always cheers him up. But that was a long time ago."

Before I could respond, her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Please, enjoy the view," she said with a chuckle, gesturing subtly toward Anthony.

My cheeks flushed slightly. "Oh, uh… I wasn’t…" I stammered, but Laura had already turned and walked away, leaving me flustered.

"She caught me unaware. Did she see me drooling over him?" I wondered, darting my eyes slowly. My thoughts were a jumbled mess as I retreated to the guest room, clutching my coffee like a lifeline.

As soon as I got inside, I closed the door and leaned against it, my heart still racing. The image of Anthony standing in the sunlight was burned into my mind. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the memory of his captivating presence.

I sank into the armchair by the window, sipping my coffee as I tried to process the morning’s events. Laura’s words echoed in my mind: "Anthony loves soup. His mother used to make it for him every day." It was such a simple detail, yet it revealed a side of him I hadn’t known. Beneath his stern exterior was a man who cherished small comforts, and who carried pieces of his past with him even now.

As I sat there, I couldn’t help but replay the moment in the living room over and over again. Every detail was vivid—the way the sunlight caressed his skin, the quiet intensity in his eyes, the strength and vulnerability he exuded all at once.

And then there was the realization that, despite everything, I was falling for him.

It wasn’t just his looks, though they were undeniably breathtaking. It was the way he carried himself, the glimpses of humanity that peeked through his composed facade. It was the moments of kindness he showed the dedication to his work, and the unspoken sadness that lingered in his eyes.

But even as these feelings swirled within me, I knew the boundaries that stood between us. He is married and so am I And I'm just his assistant, nothing more.

Yet, as the sunlight streamed through the window, warming my skin, I couldn’t help but wonder: "What if things were different?"

With a heavy sigh , I set my coffee cup down and rested my head in my hands.