Secrets of the hearts

My name is Monroe Vici. The only daughter of the Monroe family, and the CEO of Monroe Luxe. Since I was young, my mother would set up so many blind dates for me to attend to, but I would either find an excuse not to go or I would send my friend to cover up for me. I was always reminded by my mother to get a husband, and if I didn't respond to her request, she would come up with the matter of getting old without grand children. Whenever something like this happens, it is always my father who calms her down.

I actually got tired of being chased around because I knew that the people who came after me were all for lust and family name.

******

Back at work the following morning. On the 48th floor of the office building was a majestic and domineering office. It was none other than the CEO's office. The CEO's office was a sanctuary of power and sophistication, a space where the weight of responsibility hung in the air like an unspoken promise. The polished wooden desk, adorned with a few carefully selected mementos, stood as a testament to the occupant's refined taste. Behind it, the high-backed leather chair seemed to command the room, its occupant's presence amplified by the subtle creak of worn leather. The walls, adorned with framed artwork and accolades, told the story of a leader who had navigated the cutthroat waters of industry and emerged victorious.

The soft hum of the air conditioning and the muted light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows created an atmosphere of calm focus, a sense of being insulated from the whirlwind outside. In this sanctum, decisions were made that would shape the fate of companies, careers, and lives. The CEO's gaze, directed out the window or focused on the papers spread across the desk, seemed to hold the weight of the world. Every gesture, every decision, and every word carried the power to inspire or intimidate, to build or dismantle. This was a space where strategy was crafted, where vision was born, and where the pulse of the organization was monitored and managed. The CEO's office was a hub of influence, a place where the art of leadership was practiced with precision and passion.

-

Suddenly, the door to the office swung open, and in walked the youngest entrepreneur of the Monroe family-radiating confidence and a powerful presence. Being the head of such a massive enterprise was no small feat. Managing company affairs was a task not meant for the faint-hearted, and yet he carried it effortlessly.

Less than half an hour later, a gentle knock echoed through the room. The soft, clear voice of a woman in her early twenties followed.

"Yes, come in,"

Vici replied. The door opened again, revealing a young woman in a sleek black suit. Her figure was graceful, and her movements sharp. She carried herself with poise-the kind that came from discipline and ambition. Clearly, she was the director's secretary.

"Miss, someone from the neighboring capital investment company is here for their appointment."

It was no secret that Vici preferred being addressed as "Miss." Few dared to refer to the heir of such a massive empire so casually.

"Okay,"

she said simply, her voice calm but commanding. Moments later, the door opened once more, and an elegant lady with striking makeup stepped in. Her walk was smooth-graceful, almost like a runway model. Under Vici's observant gaze, she took a seat with ease, her smile warm and familiar.

"Hey,"

she said, "you've been swamped with work lately. Do you mind hanging out this weekend? I have so much to tell you." Her tone alone said everything-this woman was close to Vici. She spoke with the kind of ease only true friendship could bring.

It was none other than Selene Hart-Vici's best friend since university. Witty, loyal, and always ready to keep it real.

-

Vici leaned back in her chair, her eyes scanning Selene's eager face.

"You know I've got work lined up from now till next week, right?" she said, half-serious. Selene rolled her eyes. "You always have work lined up. Come on, Vici-just this once. A few hours won't bring Monroe Luxe crashing down." Vici narrowed her eyes playfully. "You sure about that? You clearly haven't seen my inbox."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," Selene shot back, folding her arms like a stubborn sister.

"You've been locked up in this glass castle for weeks." There was a long pause. Vici's fingers tapped lightly against her desk. Her gaze drifted to the planner lying beside her phone. The pressure of deadlines, client meetings, and business reports hovered over her like a cloud. But Selene's persistence-and that familiar warmth in her tone-was hard to resist. She sighed.

"Fine," she muttered, reaching for the intercom.

"Let me check my schedule." -

Vici leaned back slightly in her chair, her eyes fixed on Selene's glowing face. A soft sigh escaped her lips before she reached for the intercom. "Call in my secretary," she said, voice smooth but firm. Moments later, the door opened and the young woman in the black suit stepped in again, notepad in hand, heels clicking softly against the polished floor. "What does my schedule look like from today till Sunday?" Vici asked without looking up. "Yes, Miss," the secretary replied, quickly flipping through her tablet.

"You have a board meeting this afternoon, a dinner with investors tomorrow, and a brief with the marketing team on Saturday morning. Sunday is currently open." Vici gave a slow nod. "Cancel the dinner tomorrow night. Reschedule the marketing brief for next week." The secretary blinked. "All of it, Miss?"

"Yes," she said, her tone final. "Clear Sunday too." The secretary gave a quick bow. "Understood." As the door shut behind her, Vici turned her attention back to Selene. "Alright. I'm all yours this weekend." Selene grinned like she just won the lottery.

"Girl, it's about time you took a break. You're always buried in meetings." As the door shut behind the secretary, Selene's face lit up. "Finally!" Vici gave her a sharp look. "You're lucky I like you." Selene grinned. "You'll thank me when you're not dreaming about spreadsheets." Vici shook her head, letting out a low laugh.

"Maybe. But honestly, I need the distraction. My mom set up another blind date for me." "Again?" Selene groaned. "What's that, the fourth this month?" "Sixth," Vici muttered. "She says I'm wasting my 'youthful glow.'" Selene leaned forward. "Or maybe she's just scared of how powerful you've become without a man by your side." Vici gave her a knowing smile. "Maybe. But that doesn't stop the pressure." - Vici stood up, smoothing her blazer as she walked around the desk to stand beside Selene. Her expression softened, but the edge of authority still lingered in her voice.

My name is Monroe Vici. The only daughter of the Monroe family, and the CEO of Monroe Luxe. Since I was young, my mother would set up so many blind dates for me to attend to, but I would either find an excuse not to go or I would send my friend to cover up for me. I was always reminded by my mother to get a husband, and if I didn't respond to her request, she would come up with the matter of getting old without grand children. Whenever something like this happens, it is always my father who calms her down. I actually got tired of being chased around because I knew that the people who came after me were all for lust and family name. ****** Back at work the following morning. On the 48th floor of the office building was a majestic and domineering office. It was none other than the CEO's office. The CEO's office was a sanctuary of power and sophistication, a space where the weight of responsibility hung in the air like an unspoken promise. The polished wooden desk, adorned with a few carefully selected mementos, stood as a testament to the occupant's refined taste. Behind it, the high-backed leather chair seemed to command the room, its occupant's presence amplified by the subtle creak of worn leather. The walls, adorned with framed artwork and accolades, told the story of a leader who had navigated the cutthroat waters of industry and emerged victorious. The soft hum of the air conditioning and the muted light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows created an atmosphere of calm focus, a sense of being insulated from the whirlwind outside. In this sanctum, decisions were made that would shape the fate of companies, careers, and lives. The CEO's gaze, directed out the window or focused on the papers spread across the desk, seemed to hold the weight of the world. Every gesture, every decision, and every word carried the power to inspire or intimidate, to build or dismantle. This was a space where strategy was crafted, where vision was born, and where the pulse of the organization was monitored and managed. The CEO's office was a hub of influence, a place where the art of leadership was practiced with precision and passion. - Suddenly, the door to the office swung open, and in walked the youngest entrepreneur of the Monroe family-radiating confidence and a powerful presence. Being the head of such a massive enterprise was no small feat. Managing company affairs was a task not meant for the faint-hearted, and yet he carried it effortlessly. Less than half an hour later, a gentle knock echoed through the room. The soft, clear voice of a woman in her early twenties followed. "Yes, come in," Vici replied. The door opened again, revealing a young woman in a sleek black suit. Her figure was graceful, and her movements sharp. She carried herself with poise-the kind that came from discipline and ambition. Clearly, she was the director's secretary. "Miss, someone from the neighboring capital investment company is here for their appointment." It was no secret that Vici preferred being addressed as "Miss." Few dared to refer to the heir of such a massive empire so casually. "Okay," she said simply, her voice calm but commanding. Moments later, the door opened once more, and an elegant lady with striking makeup stepped in. Her walk was smooth-graceful, almost like a runway model. Under Vici's observant gaze, she took a seat with ease, her smile warm and familiar. "Hey," she said, "you've been swamped with work lately. Do you mind hanging out this weekend? I have so much to tell you." Her tone alone said everything-this woman was close to Vici. She spoke with the kind of ease only true friendship could bring. It was none other than Selene Hart-Vici's best friend since university. Witty, loyal, and always ready to keep it real. - Vici leaned back in her chair, her eyes scanning Selene's eager face. "You know I've got work lined up from now till next week, right?" she said, half-serious. Selene rolled her eyes. "You always have work lined up. Come on, Vici-just this once. A few hours won't bring Monroe Luxe crashing down." Vici narrowed her eyes playfully. "You sure about that? You clearly haven't seen my inbox." "I'm not taking no for an answer," Selene shot back, folding her arms like a stubborn sister. "You've been locked up in this glass castle for weeks." There was a long pause. Vici's fingers tapped lightly against her desk. Her gaze drifted to the planner lying beside her phone. The pressure of deadlines, client meetings, and business reports hovered over her like a cloud. But Selene's persistence-and that familiar warmth in her tone-was hard to resist. She sighed. "Fine," she muttered, reaching for the intercom. "Let me check my schedule." - Vici leaned back slightly in her chair, her eyes fixed on Selene's glowing face. A soft sigh escaped her lips before she reached for the intercom. "Call in my secretary," she said, voice smooth but firm. Moments later, the door opened and the young woman in the black suit stepped in again, notepad in hand, heels clicking softly against the polished floor. "What does my schedule look like from today till Sunday?" Vici asked without looking up. "Yes, Miss," the secretary replied, quickly flipping through her tablet. "You have a board meeting this afternoon, a dinner with investors tomorrow, and a brief with the marketing team on Saturday morning. Sunday is currently open." Vici gave a slow nod. "Cancel the dinner tomorrow night. Reschedule the marketing brief for next week." The secretary blinked. "All of it, Miss?" "Yes," she said, her tone final. "Clear Sunday too." The secretary gave a quick bow. "Understood." As the door shut behind her, Vici turned her attention back to Selene. "Alright. I'm all yours this weekend." Selene grinned like she just won the lottery. "Girl, it's about time you took a break. You're always buried in meetings." As the door shut behind the secretary, Selene's face lit up. "Finally!" Vici gave her a sharp look. "You're lucky I like you." Selene grinned. "You'll thank me when you're not dreaming about spreadsheets." Vici shook her head, letting out a low laugh. "Maybe. But honestly, I need the distraction. My mom set up another blind date for me." "Again?" Selene groaned. "What's that, the fourth this month?" "Sixth," Vici muttered. "She says I'm wasting my 'youthful glow.'" Selene leaned forward. "Or maybe she's just scared of how powerful you've become without a man by your side." Vici gave her a knowing smile. "Maybe. But that doesn't stop the pressure." - Vici stood up, smoothing her blazer as she walked around the desk to stand beside Selene. Her expression softened, but the edge of authority still lingered in her voice. "So," she said, tilting her head, "where exactly are we going-and what time should I pretend I'm free?" Selene smirked. "Dinner. Somewhere with wine, no phones, and zero business talk. I'll text you the address. Let's say... 7 p.m. sharp?" Vici raised a brow. "You sure I'll survive without my emails for that long?" "You'll live," Selene said with a wink. "Might even enjoy it." Vici gave a small, genuine smile. "Fine. I'll see you at 7."

"So," she said, tilting her head, "where exactly are we going-and what time should I pretend I'm free?" Selene smirked. "Dinner. Somewhere with wine, no phones, and zero business talk. I'll text you the address. Let's say... 7 p.m. sharp?" Vici raised a brow. "You sure I'll survive without my emails for that long?" "You'll live," Selene said with a wink. "Might even enjoy it." Vici gave a small, genuine smile. "Fine. I'll see you at 7."