Obsession With My CEO

e rolled out of bed, her Brooklyn apartment a mess of unpacked boxes and half-empty coffee mugs, and checked her phone. A text from Elena glowed on the screen: "You didn't spill en

ng more? She shook off the thought, adjusting her emerald blouse and black slacks in the elevator's reflection. She'd chosen bolder colors today, a sub

sions. Lauren, her team lead, spotted her immediately. "Amelia, good. You're on the app's social media pitch. Fir

-user demographics, engagement trends, competitor strategies. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, crafting a proposal for the short-form video campa

arp-eyed man in his forties with slicked-back hair and a predatory smile. "Amelia, right? Victor Kane, VP of Strategy," he said,

He moved with the grace of a panther, his dark suit tailored to perfection, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean frame. His presence shifted the room's

lout?" Ethan asked, his voice sm

lia. "Our new hire's g

line time on video platforms," she began, projecting her slides onto the screen. "I propose a campaign centered on authentic, creator-driven content. We partner with micro-influ

or leaned back, his smile thin. "Risky," he said. "Influencers

metrics, audience alignment, and content history. The data suppor

is expression unreadable. "

nt production, launch by month's end," she replied, h

. "Ambitious. I like it. Flesh it ou

Yes, sir," sitting down before her legs betrayed her. Victor

ng documents. Amelia gathered her things, hyper-aware of his proximity

oom was empty now, the glass walls of

just short of her, close enough that she could smell his cologne-cedar and something darker

his gaze. His eyes were a storm, pulling he

to take risks. That's rare." His voice dropped, a h

or a moment, she imagined those fingers grazing her skin. The thought sent a shiver through her, and she saw a fli

l see." He stepped back, breaking the spell, and

me. Back at her desk, she tried to focus, but Ethan's words echoed in her mind.

uilt mock-ups, and drafted a budget. By 3 p.m., her eyes burned from staring at the screen, but the pit

smooth. "But a word of advice: Ethan's not

voice even. "I'm here to do

this place eats ambition for breakfast. Watch your

ittering backdrop. She was refining her slides when a soft knock startled her. Ethan stood in the doorw

he room. His presence filled the space,

e said, gesturing to her s

was dizzying, his breath warm against her ear. "You've got a good eye," he murmured,

on the back of her chair, close enough that she could feel his warmth. "Yo

want you to see me. The thoughts flashed through

a fleeting touch that set her skin ablaze. She froze, caught in the intensity of his gaze, the air thick with unspok

n with a frown. "Finish the pitch, Amelia," he said, his tone professional again. "A

d was a tangle of Ethan's voice, his touch, the way he'd said her name. By 10 p.m., she packed up, her pitc

s instant: "Ruin

ouldn't cross. But the heat in his eyes, the electricity of his touch, told her this wa