CEO arrogant

second, third, and fourth times... Then he says we're more than friends, and I feel myself melt. Turns out even a man like him has a heart. It's a shame we can't be together. Because he'll never be able to find out that... He's the father of my child. "How about another drink?" The deep voice sent a shiver down my spine and I looked to my left to see who had spoken. Holy shit. I was face to face with the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. He was tall enough to tower over me, even when I was sitting on a tall bar stool, and his broad shoulders strained against the sports jacket he wore. His thick black hair was swept back from his face, giving me a full view of his dark blue eyes. They watched me with an intensity I'd never seen before, and I was instantly drawn to him. I toyed with the rim of my empty glass. "And...how much would that cost me?" His smile widened. He sat down on the stool next to mine, leaning in close. "Time." He paused, tilting his head. "And sleep." "Sleep?" I raised a questioning eyebrow. "Well, we won't be getting much sleep tonight, so you'll probably be tired in the morning." I couldn't help but blush. Normally, a one-liner like that would have been a huge turn-off, and I would have headed for the door without a backward glance. I'd been approached before, and I was definitely no stranger to men with big... egos, but his confidence seemed well-earned. I could sense there was something... breathtaking about him. The bartender placed a full glass in front of me before taking the empty glass away. Hooking up with a strange man wasn't something I'd planned on doing tonight; in fact, it wasn't something I'd done before or intended to do. I could feel the refusal I'd prepared dying in my throat. I'd been working so hard, for God's sake! I deserved to go out and have some fun for a change. "Convince me." I accepted the drink, feeling quite bold, like some kind of femme fatale. He raised an eyebrow in amusement and gave me a 'I guess looking at me would be enough' gesture. "Well, you're attractive," I admitted. "And so far you seem nice, but I don't know you." "What better way to get to know someone than to get naked and explore each other?" "Maybe, I don't know... a name first?" He chuckled, his rich baritone sending a wave of desire through me. Those deep eyes gleamed as he leaned in close. "Jonah." "Hi, Jonah. I'm Naomi." Jonah's eyes softened and he reached out to take my hand. "It's nice to meet you, Naomi." The way his mouth enveloped my name made my entire body flush. "There, now we've met. So let's finish our drinks, go out together, and spend several pleasant hours discovering each other." I had to admit, this all sounded pretty amazing. As the collar of his jacket moved, I could see the hint of a tattoo.

lights blending into a kaleidoscope of colors. I close my eyes, trying to block it all out. But I can't. I can't escape the betrayal. I can't escape the pain. I reach for the bottle again, the glass heavy in my hand. I take another sip, this time straight from the bottle, feeling the liquor slide down my throat. I welcome the pain. I deserve it. I was too blind to see the signs. Too stupid to realize what was happening right under my nose. For over six damn months. My boiling anger boils over, a white-hot rage. I throw the bottle across the room, the glass shattering into a million pieces. The sound echoes through the suite, a sharp contrast to the silence. I sink back onto the couch, the leather creaking beneath my weight. I'm alone now, surrounded by shards of glass and broken promises. But I don't care. I'm here to drink, to escape, to vent my anger. And no one, not even Cassandra or Ace, can stop me. I'm a volcano about to erupt. My eyes land on one of my guitars, sitting in the corner, a silent witness to my pain. It's a custom Gibson Les Paul, as dark as my mood. I walk over to it furiously, gripping it by the neck, the smooth wood familiar beneath my fingers. My reflection stares back at me from the shiny surface. Dark hair a little too long, a dark beard shadowing my jaw, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. Dark eyes glower at me. My arms, muscled from years of playing guitar and working out, flex as I lift the instrument. The leather bracelets on my wrists, a constant fixture, stand out against my tattooed arm and highlight my long, strong fingers. The tattoo on my right arm, an intricate design of a phoenix rising from the ashes, seems to mock me. I'm not rising from anything right now. I'm drowning. With a sudden roar, I slam the guitar against the wall. The sound of cracking wood and snapping strings echoes through the room, a symphony of destruction. I watch as pieces of the guitar scatter across the floor, a mirror image of my heart and soul. I turn to the bar, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The glasses are lined in neat rows, their crystal surfaces glinting in the soft light. I pick one up, the delicate stem breaking between my fingers. Another follows, then another, the sound of glass breaking a harsh melody in the silence. My chest heaves, my heart slamming against my ribs. I look around the room at the destruction I've caused. The shattered guitar, the broken glasses, the chaos. It's a reflection of my life, the mess I'm in. And for the first time, I admit it to myself. Cassandra and I haven't exactly been on good terms for a while. She was selfish, difficult, always putting herself first. She was a beast in bed, which probably blinded me. But I was the one making all the sacrifices, the one trying to make things work. The one with the big money, supporting.

Paris! My first morning in Paris! I almost whirl into a dance, but I catch myself as I step out of my suite. The golden light of the Parisian morning filters through the tall windows of the George V Hotel, casting a warm glow on the marble floors. I step into the grand lobby, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. I'm really here-Paris! The city of love, art, and endless possibilities. I head to the reception desk, where a kind-faced, silver-haired man in an impeccably pressed uniform stands ready to help. His name tag reads "Henri." My brother Simon mentioned that Henri was the best concierge in Paris. As I approach, he gives me a polite nod and a warm smile. "Good morning, Mademoiselle Sinclair. You look lovely, my dear. How may I be of assistance today?" "Good morning, Henri!" I can't help but smile back at him. "Would you please arrange for a hotel driver, a car? I'm heading to the Louvre this morning. I've decided that my first day of exploring has to be there, and I can't wait to take in all its treasures." Henri's smile widens, and he nods approvingly. "Ah, the Louvre. An excellent choice for your first day. You will find it truly magnificent. Just a moment, mademoiselle." He picks up his phone and makes a quick call. Within moments, he confirms that a hotel car will be arriving shortly. As I wait, I glance around the lobby, taking in the opulent ambiance. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting sparkling reflections on the polished surfaces. Elegant, plush furnishings invite guests to relax and linger. The air is filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the soft clink of fine china from the nearby dining room. It's like stepping into a dream. I turn to Henri, who's now watching me with friendly curiosity. "How's your brother, the esteemed Simon Sinclair?" he asks. "Busy conquering the world, as usual." I laugh. I love my brother so much, and of course Henri would know him, or know of him. Simon seems to know everyone, or everyone knows him, I reflect, from governors, film directors, and captains of industry to the best concierge in Paris. "And is this your first time here, mademoiselle?

cloudy glass, whose windshield was trying uselessly to clear it, was something that had stayed with me for five years. Almost every night, that nightmare was my greatest companion. Except that, when I woke up, I didn't feel the relief of not being in my reality. On the contrary... the empty bed was proof enough that the death of two people so important in my life was not an illusion. I was the one who caused that death. It was my fault and no one else's. I always knew I was a controlling son of a bitch, and I fought day after day not to suffocate Taís with my temper. She was never submissive, not at all, and that was what I loved most about her personality, although it was a fetish of mine in bed that my wife had never been able to fulfill. Maybe, that day, I should have let my fucking control freak take over and locked her in the house to stop her from leaving. Much less taking our son with her. Or maybe I shouldn't have followed them, swearing I would be protecting them. That the best option was to try to bring her back home. Taís was no longer happy. She never wanted marriage. Pregnancy had led her to agree to our union, but she was too young. I had convinced her, and nothing would ever make me regret it so much again. Being a father was my dream. It still was, in fact. I hadn't expected to have a child only to lose him less than a year later. He would have been six by then. He would have been running around at that party, just like the beautiful little girl in the pink dress whose parents had already scolded her more than once. I hated parties like that, where all that reigned was hypocrisy. Where people looked at me as if I were watching each one of them to write down any little mistake on my list of future dismissals. So, a breath of fresh air like that, the sound of a child's laughter, her mischievous manner... all of that almost made me smile. Almost. The little girl was probably the daughter of one of my employees. I couldn't say for sure, because I wasn't exactly attentive to their personal lives. What really mattered to me was their performance within the office. I used to be a little more sociable – but only a little – but after Taís died, I literally closed myself off from the world. At the office, I was known as Iron Man; I was just as controlling as I was in my personal life. People didn't know that this information was passed on to me, but unfortunately for them, the only person who had any access to me was my secretary, and she would tell me this with a laugh. I didn't find the nickname that funny, although her laugh was adorable. By the way, she was at the party. She was very pretty – that was what I could see from a distance.

have closed myself off so much from the world around me, becoming a person without friends. Because I was always studying or doing something to please my father, I didn't have time for friends, and the very few people I knew only approached me out of interest. The only people I have are my father and Edna, my former nanny who is now a housekeeper. I am currently twenty-five years old, and last year I graduated in another course, Political Science, and after waiting a long time, I decided that I am going to pursue my dreams. Today I am going to take my first step. I sent my resume three days ago to a very famous company here in Canada. I didn't wait long; yesterday they called me, asking me to attend a job interview, but it's me and two other people who are competing for that position. But you're rich, why do you want to work? Well, my father is rich, not me. I want to try to achieve my dreams starting from the bottom, just like my grandfather did; I want to climb the ladder little by little, with my own efforts, and even though I've never worked, I know that if I work hard and dedicate myself, I'll make it, no matter what the difficulties. I snap out of my reverie when I hear someone knocking on the door, I tell him to come in, and I immediately see Edna. "Good morning, my dear, your father is waiting for you for breakfast." "Good morning, Edna, tell him I'll be right there, I'm just going to take a shower and get ready. And I hope you'll have breakfast with us." She smiles awkwardly. "Of course, your father already told me that." "My father knows you're family." - Once again, Edna smiles awkwardly. - I'll be right there, I'll wait for you downstairs - I agree and as soon as she leaves my room, I quickly head to the bathroom to do my morning hygiene. I get out of the shower, dry myself and wrap myself in a towel. I go to my closet which, to be honest, is too big for just one person, and choose a simple outfit that consists of dark dress pants, a white long-sleeved blouse and a dark blazer, and a pair of satin leather high heels. I dry my long blonde hair and tie it in a high, somewhat messy bun, put on some lip gloss, put on my glasses that make my greenish eyes a little less prominent and my black leather bag. I look at myself in the mirror and am pleased with the result; I leave the room with a huge smile on my face and when I get to the breakfast table, I kiss my father on the cheek, wishing him a good morning and he kisses me back. - It seems like someone woke up in a good mood today - he says, referring to the huge smile on my face. My father is a handsome man for his age, at the height of forty-seven, tall, athletic body, since he works out and practices martial arts, white skin, square jaw with a thin beard, greenish eyes, dark hair with some gray tones and a captivating smile; I lost count of how many times I went to some event with him and women fell drooling over him. - Of course, today I'm going to my first job interview, I'm very excited. - I sit at the table and pour myself a coffee. - I'm very proud of you, my princess, I hope everything goes well. - Of course you will; Elisa is a very intelligent woman, they'll definitely hire her - my father murmurs, already drinking his coffee. - I don't want to create too many expectations - I say awkwardly. - Of course you should, you're intelligent, you've studied since you were little and graduated from the best schools and universities in the world, my love; obviously you'll make it. - I smile awkwardly at my father. It's always been like this, he sets too many expectations for everything I do; if I don't get this job.

name is Remi, aka Rogue Angel, and I normally work for a security company testing client systems. But now a shadowy villain has tracked me down and given me an ultimatum. I have to hack Rivera Tech-the largest tech company in the world, owned by billionaire CEO Maverick Rivera. If I do this, I'll get paid and I'll be able to help my adoptive mother. If I don't, my family will be in danger. Hacking Rivera is no walk in the park, and I soon find myself in a tantalizing game of cat and mouse with the big, bad-tempered, sexy Maverick. What I never, ever expected was for him to make me feel safe, or threaten my closely guarded heart, or set every part of me on fire. I can't drag him into my mess. But Maverick has other ideas, and he's not a man who takes no for an answer. ANGEL DEROGUES TO Remi "Oh, you think you can keep me out? Not today." My fingers danced over my keyboard. It glowed, each keystroke barely making a sound. I'd paid a small fortune for the keyboard and laptop. They were my babies. I'd already mapped out the target system. Its cybersecurity was good, but not great. I knew I'd set off some alarm, so they knew I was snooping around. "But no one can stop Rogue Angel." With a grin, I stared at the glowing screen, scanning the code. I tapped a command. Woot. I was in. I shifted my ass in my chair. Time to finish this. I zoomed in on the system, found the file I needed, and made a copy. Time to go. I left my signature image behind-glowing blue angel wings made of computer code. Smiling, I leaned back and flexed my hands. Then I buffed my nails on my shirt and blew on them. I was a hacker, so I kept my nails short and manicured, but I loved painting them. Right now, they were a bright, blinding yellow. Then I opened a new window and made a call. My boss appeared on the screen. I took a second to take in the view-Killian Hawke was worth a second or two of appreciation. The man always made me think of a sharp blade, with precision. He was lean, with an aquiline face, black hair, black eyes. Those eyes were sharp and missed nothing. He wore a black suit, even though it was Sunday-I'd never seen him in anything else. Even on the computer screen, he radiated a predatory danger that made my hindbrain go very, very quiet. "Done," I said. "Check your inbox." The head of Sentinel Security glanced to his left and nodded. "Well done, Remi. Impressive, as always." Damn, the man had the sexiest voice. Like melted hot chocolate with a hint of spice. It didn't quite match his sleek, dangerous persona. "Our client will be very happy," Killian said. "Happy that I hacked them?" Happy that they know their vulnerabilities and how Sentinel Security can help eliminate them. And pay Killian a billion dollars for his work. Sentinel did all sorts of security. I knew Killian had a private army of ex-military badasses, but he also specialized in cybersecurity. I'd been working for Sentinel for several years. Companies hired me to test their systems and improve their security. It was a good business. I used

"Miss Brown, I am the butler here at your service," the butler replied. "My master wants to buy the baby in your belly." "What?!" Does that mean the abortion didn't take place? Did they kidnap her from the operating table just to buy the baby? But why her? "You..." Alice was about to ask a question, but the man in front of her calmly continued, as if he had expected her question, "You're pregnant with his child, and he needs a child. That's all I can tell you." Alice was forced to sign a surrogacy contract and eight months later gave birth to two healthy babies. Fortunately, the man was unaware of her daughter's existence. It wasn't until five years later that fate brought them together again...

For ten years, Daniela showered her ex-husband with unwavering devotion, only to discover she was just his biggest joke. Feeling humiliated yet determined, she finally divorced him. Three months later, Daniela returned in grand style. She was now the hidden CEO of a leading brand, a sought-after designer, and a wealthy mining mogul—her success unveiled at her triumphant comeback. Her ex-husband’s entire family rushed over, desperate to beg for forgiveness and plead for another chance. Yet Daniela, now cherished by the famed Mr. Phillips, regarded them with icy disdain. "I’m out of your league."

Corinne devoted three years of her life to her boyfriend, only for it to all go to waste. He saw her as nothing more than a country bumpkin and left her at the altar to be with his true love. After getting jilted, Corinne reclaimed her identity as the granddaughter of the town’s richest man, inherited a billion-dollar fortune, and ultimately rose to the top. But her success attracted the envy of others, and people constantly tried to bring her down. As she dealt with these troublemakers one by one, Mr. Hopkins, notorious for his ruthlessness, stood by and cheered her on. “Way to go, honey!”

Due to the plight of her family, Phoebe had no choice but to embark on the path of selling herself. In an accident, she had a tangled night with Alexander. Everything began to derail, and even if she fled to the ends of the earth, she would still be found by him and entangled... *** Phoebe screamed in frustration, "What do you want from me?" What was this supposed to be? He raised an eyebrow wickedly. "What do I want? You'll find out soon enough." With that, he hoisted her up and carried her back into the office. The door slammed shut with a kick, and he cleared the desk with a sweep of his arm before laying her down on it, his body pinning hers in place, completely trapping her in his grasp. Every cell in his body was telling him he wanted her. He wanted to claim her again. This time, there would be no escape for her-he wouldn't let her slip away. Never again. If he had suffered for five years, then this woman wouldn't get off easily either!

“You need a bride, I need a groom. Why don’t we get married?” Both abandoned at the altar, Elyse decided to tie the knot with the disabled stranger from the venue next door. Pitying his state, she vowed to spoil him once they were married. Little did she know that he was actually a powerful tycoon. Jayden thought Elyse only married him for his money, and planned to divorce her when she was no longer of use to him. But after becoming her husband, he was faced with a new dilemma. “She keeps asking for a divorce, but I don’t want that! What should I do?”

“Drive this woman out!” "Throw this woman into the sea!” When he doesn’t know Debbie Nelson’s true identity, Carlos Hilton cold-shoulders her. “Mr. Hilton, she is your wife,” Carlos’ secretary reminded him. Hearing that, Carlos gives him a cold stare and complained, “why didn’t you tell me earlier?” From then on, Carlos spoils her rotten. Little did everyone expect that they would get a divorce.