ADDICTED TO THE CEO 18+
Chapter 1 1.
𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐬
The shrill beep of my alarm shattered the quiet of my room, grating on my nerves. Groaning, I swung my hand down to silence it but misjudged and smacked my hand on the corner of the nightstand.
"Ouch," I hissed, cradling my now-throbbing hand. Rubbing my eyes, I let out a soft sigh, wishing I could go back to sleep. Work could wait-or so I thought until my gaze landed on my phone screen. My heart dropped.
Damn it. Mrs. Clinton is going to kill me.
I shot out of bed, panic fueling my every move, and sprinted to the bathroom. I was already 15 minutes late for my shift at the bakery. Honestly, it was a miracle the owner hadn't fired me yet.
After my parents and older brother's death-and the incident I didn't dare dwell on-I started living on my own in a cozy little apartment.
It wasn't much, just a one-bedroom space with a small living room, kitchen, and a decent-sized balcony. But it fit me perfectly. The aesthetic aligned with my tastes, and the fully furnished interior had been a bonus when I first moved in.
Yes, it was small. Yes, the bills sometimes left me biting my nails in anxiety. But I was happier now than I had been in years, and that counted for something.
Shaking off the lingering weight of my thoughts, I rushed through my shower and darted into my room. The warm weather outside called for something breezy. I slipped on a pastel pink skirt that stopped just above my knees and paired it with a white, long-sleeved blouse. Simple, cute, and comfortable. Perfect.
I left my hair down, applied a quick swipe of lip gloss, grabbed my phone, and locked my apartment. Then I dashed down the streets of Athens, my bag bouncing against my side. At least the bakery was only fifteen minutes away. The beauty of Greece-the soft, early morning sunlight spilling over the ancient architecture, the cheerful chatter of birds-helped soothe my nerves. Nature always did.
But not enough to dull the anxiety clawing at my chest. Mrs. Clinton would be furious.
When the pink storefront of Moonlight Bakery came into view, I slowed down to catch my breath. Brace yourself.
As I pushed open the door and hurried toward the kitchen, a hand clamped down on my arm. The grip was unyielding, sharp enough to make me flinch.
"Seriously? Late again? This is the third time this week!" Mrs. Clinton's voice hit me like a freight train. Her shrill screech made me wince, but I didn't dare meet her glare.
"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart pounded in my chest. "It won't happen again."
She huffed, her lips curling into a scowl. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just get to work. We've got customers coming in."
She released my arm with a shove, and I rubbed the tender skin where her fingers had been. My breath shuddered out as I forced my feet to carry me to the kitchen. The last thing I needed was to lose this job.
Inside, Levi stood near the counter, his phone pressed to his ear. The moment he spotted me, his face lit up. He quickly pocketed his phone and wrapped me in a bear hug.
"Hey, princess." His tone was warm, teasing.
"Levi, stop calling me that," I muttered, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips.
"Okay, princess." He smirked, dodging my half-hearted punch to his chest.
"Ugh, I hate you," I said, though my voice lacked any real venom.
"You wound me," he gasped, clutching his heart dramatically. "Anyway, we better get to work before the wicked witch of the west starts screaming again."
"No arguments there," I mumbled.
I made my way to the front desk just as the door jingled, signaling a customer. A man walked in, probably in his mid-twenties, dressed in a crisp white t-shirt and black pants. His sharp features and confident air caught me off guard. He was...handsome.
"Good morning, sir!" I greeted him, offering my best customer-service smile. "Welcome to Moonlight Bakery. What can I get for you?"
"Good morning, beautiful," he said, his voice smooth and warm. "Can I get a slice of blueberry cheesecake and a cup of coffee?" He winked, and my cheeks flamed.
"Uh, thank you, sir," I stammered, ducking my head to hide my embarrassment.
"Please, call me Dante," he corrected with a charming grin. "And you are?"
"Sirena," I answered hesitantly. Why was he asking my name?
"A pretty name for a pretty lady." His words were light, playful, but they left me flustered.
I mumbled a quick "thank you" and hurried back into the kitchen.
"Did that guy just flirt with you?" Levi demanded, his tone tinged with protective annoyance.
"I don't think so," I said, tilting my head in confusion. "Maybe he was just being friendly?"
Levi muttered something under his breath.
"Sorry, what?" I asked, frowning.
"Nothing, princess. Go back to work," he said, waving me off.
Shrugging, I prepared Dante's order and brought it to him.
After about ten minutes, he approached the counter again.
"Hey," he began, his expression warm. "Did you make those desserts?"
"Yes," I said, my heart skipping a beat. "Is there a problem?"
"Absolutely not! They were incredible. This might just be my favorite bakery in Athens now."
I blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. "Thank you so much! That means a lot."
He handed me a ten-dollar note. "Keep the change."
"Wait-" I began, but he was already out the door.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of orders, conversations with Levi, and the occasional scolding from Mrs. Clinton. By the time we closed at 9 p.m., exhaustion weighed heavy on my shoulders.
Levi insisted on walking me home, as always.
"It's too dangerous for you to walk alone," he said firmly. His presence reminded me so much of my brother, and I was grateful for the sense of security he gave me.
When we reached my apartment, he kissed the top of my head. "Goodnight, princess."
"Goodnight, Levi," I murmured, hugging him before heading inside.
After a quick shower, I changed into my pink T-shirt and pants and collapsed onto my bed. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten much today.
But meals three times a day weren't a luxury I could afford. Ignoring the hunger pangs, I closed my eyes, bracing myself for another restless night.
The nightmares would come, as they always did. But for now, I clung to the fleeting hope of a peaceful sleep.
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