Chapter 118 118. Be CEO For A Day
She melted back against me, head falling to my shoulder. I took advantage, teeth finding her earlobe, tongue tracing the shell of her ear while my hand played with her nipple.
Her breathing had turned ragged. How I loved every sound she made.
Then she twisted free, dancing away with a grin. "Bad boy."
"Very bad." I followed her. My arousal strained against my pants, impossible to hide. I bit my lower lip, watching her retreat and adjust her dress.
'When I catch you, Fiera, I'm tearing that dress off your body... and we'll be in this office for hours.'
She circled my desk, laughing at my prowling. Finally, she dropped into my CEO chair, leaning back with her hands behind her head.
"How does it feel?" she asked. "Sitting here every day with the weight of an empire on your shoulders?"
I moved behind the chair, spinning it to face the floor-to-ceiling windows. Then I pressed the button that cleared the smart glass, revealing the Manhattan skyline in all its glory.
"I missed this view," she breathed.
My hands moved to her shoulders, kneading gently. "Have you ever wanted this? To be a CEO?"
"God, no." She tilted her head back to look at me. "I want to own things, sure. A penthouse, a coffee shop that's also a bookstore and flower shop. But CEO?" She shook her head. "That job changes people. Makes you choose profits over people, strategy over heart. How much happiness does this chair actually give you?"
The question hit deeper than she probably meant it to. "Honestly? Very little. It's power and control, but it's also loneliness and constant pressure."
"Would you give it up?" Her eyes were serious now. "If you could?"
"Maybe." I considered it. "What about you? Want to try being CEO for a day? See how it feels?"
She chuckled. "Hell no. I'll stick to writing and building my own small empire."
A small silence settled between us for a moment before she spoke again.
"Have you changed your mind about Don's inheritance?"
My hands stilled on her shoulders. "What?" Even though I understood what she was asking.
Am I giving up on my revenge against Don?
"If you inherit Elysium, sixty billion dollars in real estate and infrastructure becomes." She turned in the chair to look up at me again. "That's a lot of power. A lot of responsibility. But you said you had other plans for it, didn't you?"
Of course. I spent years planning it. I spun her chair around, dropping to my knees in front of her, taking her hands in mine.
"Yes. I will dismantle it piece by piece while he watches from his death bed. Destroy everything he built as punishment for how he destroyed me."
Her expression shifted. "How would you do that?"
"I wouldn't like to bore you with details, but I'll break apart the real estate portfolio and infrastructure holdings until nothing's left but rubble and debt."
She was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was gentle but firm.
"You'd hurt a lot of innocent people doing that. Employees who depend on those jobs. Families who live in those properties. All people that had nothing to do with Don. Have you ever considered that direction?"
The truth of it hit me like a punch to the gut. She was right. In my quest for revenge, I'd been willing to burn down everything without considering the collateral damage.
"In anyways..." her fingers threaded through my hair, gentle and soothing. I leaned into the touch, closing my eyes. "I trust you, Mr. Hot and Sexy. You are intelligent, and smart, and I know you'll make the right decision regarding Elysium."
She leaned down and held her lips to mine in a peck. I didn't open my eyes even as she pulled back.
It was crystallizing to me then. All of it.
Getting revenge on Don wasn't worth becoming him. It wasn't worth hurting innocent people or compromising my morals further.
And keeping Jessica locked up, lying to Camila, making decision after decision without her input-I was repeating every toxic pattern Don had modeled.
I opened her eyes. The trust and love that looked back at me... I couldn't keep going down this path. I won't let Don's poison infect my choices anymore. I have to be free from everything Maximilian Don Hayes represented.
"What are you thinking?" Camila asked softly, still running her fingers through my hair.
"That I've been wrong about a lot of things." I pressed a kiss to her palm. "But I'm going to make it right."
Camila's POV
It was finally ready.
We were done!
Done, done, done!
I stood in Unit 4D, staring at the printed out copies of irrefutable evidence, and most importantly, the single USB we would be handing to FBI.
Tomorrow, Rosalind would submit it all anonymously to the FBI. Tomorrow, Ronan's world would start crumbling.
Tomorrow, I might actually be free.
The thought sent nervous energy flooding through me. I couldn't sit still, couldn't focus. I paced the small unit, running through scenarios in my head.
What if the FBI didn't take it seriously?
What if they thought it was fake?
What if I got in more trouble?
What if somehow Ronan found out and retaliated before they could move?
"Hey." Maya appeared in the doorway with Rafael behind her. "Nothing's going to go wrong. This is solid. You've checked everything a hundred times."
"I know." I tried to smile. "I'm just..."
"Freaking out?" Rafael offered.
"A little."
Maya crossed to me, squeezing my shoulders. "In twenty-four hours, Ronan would be in custody. Your charges will get dismissed. You'll finally be free. This is good news, Cam. Let yourself feel excited."
She was right. I should be thrilled. Instead, I felt like I was standing on the edge of something huge, not sure if I was about to fly or fall.
"Lucien's running late from a meeting," Rafael said, checking his phone.
"Let's wait for him in our apartment," Maya suggested. "I'll start setting up the celebratory drinks."
"You two go ahead." I looked around the unit one more time. "I just need to clean up a few things. I'll be right behind you."
Maya hesitated, but Rafael touched her arm. "Let her have a minute."
They left together, Maya's laughter floating back down the hallway. I smiled despite my nerves. They were good together.
I moved around the unit slowly, straightening already-straight boxes, checking that all the laptops were properly shut down.
In reality, I was simply stalling. Trying to memorize this moment before everything changed.
Finally, I turned off the lights.
I opened the door to meet a man standing in the hallway. Dark hair cropped close to his skull. Eyes like black ice. A face I hadn't seen in months but would never forget.
Ronan.
Quickly, I slammed the door, but he was faster. His palm caught it and shoved back hard. The edge caught my temple, sending me stumbling backward. Pain exploded across my forehead.
I hit the floor hard, breath knocked out of my lungs. Terror and adrenaline flooded my system in equal measure.
Ronan stepped inside, and so did some other men. Then he flipped on the lights.
I crawled backward, trying to put distance between us. But he wasn't rushing. Just stood there, taking in the workspace. The laptops. The monitors. The filing cabinets. The organized boxes of evidence.
Oh no, please. Not when we are this close to success.
His expression shifted from surprise to disbelief to something dark and delighted.
When his eyes finally found mine again, he smiled.
No, It wasn't a kind smile.
It was the smile of a predator who'd just cornered exactly what he'd been hunting.
"Wow, Camila," he scoffed. "Just... wow."