Chapter 27 Aliens? Illuminate? Cray Cray CEO?

Chapter 27 Aliens? Illuminate? Cray Cray CEO?
Sienna

If my brain hadn’t gone into complete sensory overload and needed a breather… I don’t think I would have stopped.

That kiss—His touch. Our bodies grinding on each other.
No. That wasn’t even it.

Because all of it hadn’t felt new. It had felt… remembered, familiar. Like something my body already knew how to do it with him. Too well.

I needed the break. Needed air. Needed space.

So, I ducked into his neck, trying to steady myself, trying to breathe past the heat still racing through me—burning me inside and out.

And then I inhaled. Everything in me froze. That scent. Not Roman. At least not just Roman.

I knew that scent. Had dreamt that scent. “…Hero,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

The moment the word left my mouth, reality crashed back in. My boss. My boss. Oh God what had I done?

What was I doing?? Straddling the man that held my internship in his hands. Kissing him, clutching him.

Desperate for him, lusting for him…my brain taunted. Like a bitch in heat!

Heat flooded my face, mortification hitting hard and fast. I pulled back abruptly, untangling myself from him as if I’d just realized what I’d been doing—because it had just sunk in.

Roman steadied me as my feet found the floor, his hands lingering for half a second too long before he let go.

I straightened my clothes, avoiding his eyes for exactly three seconds before forcing myself to look at him.

No avoiding this. “Roman…” My voice came out thinner than I liked. I swallowed, forcing it steady. “Have we kissed before?”

He went very still. And then—of all things—his ears turned red. “Yes,” he said, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
A beat. Then- “Twice.” He said quietly.

I gaped at him. “Twice?” I repeated, incredulous. “I thought those were dreams—”

My brain caught up with my mouth. “You’re my boss.” The words tumbled out faster now, panic creeping in. “I—I haven’t even started working yet and I’m already—this is—”

I dragged in a breath that didn’t quite fill my lungs. “Can we still work together?”

Great. Fantastic. I was spiralling. Hyperventilating, actually. Perfect. Just freaking perfect.

Roman stepped closer, his expression shifting—remorse, tension, something heavier underneath.

“I should have told you earlier,” he said quietly. “And more importantly… I should have told you why.”

I tried to focus. I really did. I did my best to fight the fog and listen…But my brain was scrambling, thoughts colliding into each other at high speed.

“Sienna,” he said, more firmly now. “What I’m about to tell you is very important. And very, very confidential. I need you to focus. Calm down. Breathe.”

Right. Breathing. Air. Lungs. Yep…Important.

I nodded quickly, latching onto that instruction like it was a lifeline.

In. Out. In—

“My kind,” he started, watching me carefully, “we have what we call fated mates. A person who is meant for us. Just us.”

Her searched my face. And me…I blinked.
Once. Twice. I stared at him.

Was—was a Fortune 500 CEO seriously standing in front of me… talking about soulmates?

“My kind?” I echoed faintly. “What does that even mean? Like—” My brain, already overloaded, took a sharp left turn. “Aliens? Illuminati? Is this some kind of—”

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.
Abort. My system was about to crash.

So I did the only thing I could do when everything got too much—when thoughts came too fast, too loud, too chaotic—
I grounded.

“Okay,” I said quickly, words shifting gears entirely. “Aggregate demand equals consumption plus investment plus government spending plus net exports.”

Roman stared at me, eyes widening. I ignored it…kept going. “Marginal propensity to consume determines the multiplier effect. The formula is one over one minus MPC—assuming no taxes or imports—”

“Sienna—” Roman tried to cut me off…but this was needed. System needed to recalibrate, reboot…so I kept sprouting…

“Opportunity cost is the value of the next best alternative foregone,” I rushed on, my breathing evening out as the familiar structure of it settled my mind. “And in perfectly competitive markets, firms are price takers, not price makers—”

He stared at me for a full second, then did a visible double take. And somehow… cut in firmly before I could finish…

“I… have two things to tell you,” he said slowly, like he needed to enunciate everything so I could grasp it. “But for now, I need you to adjust to this reality.”

His gaze held mine, steady, grounding. “You’re not losing your mind. And neither am I. What I’ve told you… is fact.”

The words landed heavier than they should have. Because he believed them. Completely.

I felt it. And somehow… that helped.
My breathing steadied. The noise in my head quieted just enough.

I swallowed, lifting my chin slightly. “Then explain it to me Roman,” I said, my voice calmer now—but firm.

“Properly this time.”