Craving My Ruthless CEO

Chapter 1: A walking, breathing god.

Ana’s POV

The pen was still stuck between my teeth when I realized I hadn’t taken a single note in ten minutes. I blinked down at the open spreadsheet glowing on my laptop, the quarterly report I was supposed to be working on.

Instead, my fingers hovered above the keyboard, frozen midair as my gaze drifted..... to him.

Roman Blackwood.

A walking, breathing god. My boss.

He stood at the head of the boardroom table, the picture of authority and control. Six foot something, tall enough to make everyone else seem smaller.

His face was perfectly handsome, with a sharp jawline and neatly cut hair that fell slightly over his forehead. Every time he raked his hand through it, the women in the room tried not to look, but they always did.

But it was his eyes that did it. God, those eyes. Ocean blue. Calm. Cold. Deep enough to drown in if you stared too long. Which, unfortunately, I did. A lot.

He wasn’t just the CEO of Blackwood Corporation, he was the Roman Blackwood. The man Forbes loved to put on their covers. Ruthless. Brilliant. A legend in every business circle. He built a billion-dollar empire from the ground up. People feared him, respected him, envied him.

And me? I could barely form a coherent sentence when he was in the same room.

I was the definition of a nerd..... big glasses, shy smile, cardigan always slipping off one shoulder.

The kind of girl who’d rather spend Friday nights writing dark romance stories than going out. I’d always dreamed of becoming a bestselling author, the next big name in romance, but apparently, the universe missed that memo.

Every novel I wrote had either been rejected or sat online with barely a single view.

Still, I couldn’t give up..... this was my dream. But dreams didn’t pay the bills, so I took a job to survive.

Three months. That was how long I’d been his assistant. Three months of stolen glances, accidental touches, and sleepless nights replaying the way his voice dipped when he said my name.

Three months of pretending I wasn’t completely, hopelessly obsessed with my CEO.

I told myself it was research, that watching him so closely was just creative observation.

But deep down, I knew better.

He had become my muse.

My addiction.

My gaze lingered on his mouth as he spoke, the way his lips curved around every word. God, I shouldn’t have been watching him that closely. But the more I did, the harder it became to look away.

My breath hitched as I imagined those same lips pressing against mine, tasting me, commanding every breath I took. What would it feel like? How would he kiss, rough and possessive or slow and passionate?

My gaze dropped lower, tracing the lines of his broad shoulders, the way his white shirt clung to his chest, stretched across a body that was all strength and control. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms, veins, tan skin, power.

Heat crept up my neck. In my mind, those hands reached for my waist, pulling me close, lifting me onto the boardroom table. Papers scattered, files hit the floor, and gasps echoed as he ordered everyone out of the room with a single look.

Then it was just us.

His body pressed against mine, heat searing through the thin layers of fabric between us. His lips trailed down my neck, rough and desperate, and every touch set fire to my skin. I could almost feel the ache throbbing deep inside me, the way my body would arch for him..... needing more, craving everything.

His hands would spread my thighs, his voice rough against my ear as he whispered my name.....

“...Ana.”

Roman’s voice rumbled somewhere in the distance, but I barely heard it. My fingers kept typing, lost in the fantasy spilling onto my screen.

“Ana.”

Still nothing. My heart raced, not from reality, but from the image of his hands against my thighs.

“Ana.”

This time, his voice cut through the air, deep and firm enough to snap me out of my daze. My head jerked up. He was staring right at me, his expression hard, ocean-blue eyes narrowed in irritation.

Oh no. If he had any idea what I’d just been thinking.....

“Sir,” I stammered, yanking my fingers off the keyboard. “Mr. Blackwood, I.....”

He cut me off before I could blink. “Care to share with us what has your attention..... that’s more important than this meeting?”

I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry. “I was, um..... taking notes,” I managed, forcing a nervous smile.

His brow arched. “Taking notes,” he repeated, his tone cool.

“About what you were saying,” I blurted quickly, hoping to save myself. “You know how important these updates are.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “Good. Then tell us, what was the last thing I just said?”

My brain froze as every pair of eyes in the room turned toward me, silently waiting for me to drown.

“You were talking about..... the projected numbers for next quarter,” I said finally, forcing out the first thing that sounded remotely smart. “And, uh..... the marketing adjustments?”

For a second, his expression didn’t move. Then, slowly, his jaw tightened. The flash of disappointment in his eyes burned straight through me.

A wave of embarrassment washed over my skin.

“I said that ten minutes ago.” His voice rose just enough to make me flinch. “It’s obvious your attention is elsewhere.”

He straightened, his expression perfectly composed. “Since you’re so eager to contribute, Miss Winters, pull up the projected finance report for next quarter.”

My heart stopped. Oh God.

I fumbled for my laptop, fingers slipping over the touchpad as panic tightened my chest. I could feel every gaze drilling into me. The truth? I’d forgotten to send the reminder email that morning. But when he had me juggling a dozen different tasks, something had to fall through the cracks.

“Just a moment,” I said, forcing a shaky smile.

“Ana,” he said again.....

I looked up, shy, afraid.

“Let me guess,” he murmured, leaning against the table, that calm, lethal edge in his tone. “You don’t have it.”

I blinked rapidly, my throat tightening. “No, I..... I intended to get it, but there was a little delay and.....”

“Enough.” His voice cut through mine, sending both fear and shivers through me. Instantly, my mouth snapped shut.

He stared at me, those cold ocean eyes locked on mine, and I could feel the anger rolling off him in controlled waves.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he burst out, his brows furrowing. “Excuses don’t fix incompetence.”

The word incompetence tore through what was left of my self-confidence after embarrassing myself in front of everyone.

I opened my mouth again, desperate to explain, to tell him I’d been buried in his reports, his calls, his endless lists of tasks, but the look he gave me stopped me cold.

He exhaled slowly, his expression darkening as he gestured toward the others with a flick of his hand.

“The meeting is over.”

For a second, no one moved. Confusion spread through the room as the managers and department heads exchanged uncertain glances.

Roman’s eyes narrowed. His voice came again, firmer, colder. “Everyone. Clear the room. Now.”

The fear in their eyes was instant. Chairs scraped the floor. People scrambled to gather their files and laptops, murmuring quietly as they hurried toward the door. Within seconds, the once-busy boardroom was empty, and I was the only one left behind.

I rose from my seat, my hands shaking as I reached for my laptop and gathered my papers, hoping no one would notice me. I was just about to slip out when.....

“Not you, Miss Winters.”

I froze. My heart jumped. I looked up. Roman’s face was hard as he pointed back at my chair.

“Sit.”

My heart dropped. I swallowed hard and lowered myself back into the seat, fingers gripping the edge of the table to keep from shaking. I felt really scared. My throat felt dry, and my chest was tight.

My breath hitched as he walked up to me in powerful strides. The closer he got, the smaller the room seemed to feel. When he stopped in front of me, he tilted my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his.

“Give me one good reason,” his tone was low and mean, “why I shouldn’t fire you right now, Miss Winters.”

Chapter 2: What If He Actually Fired Me?

Ana’s POV

Those icy blue eyes locked on me, and I fidgeted in my seat. Roman Blackwood’s stare always had a way of slicing right through me, but this time, it was different. Colder. Angrier. And far too close.

I could barely breathe. My palms trembled uncontrollably against his desk, heat radiating from his skin and seeping into mine. I knew that look, the one that said he’d reached his limit with me, that I’d pushed him too far this time.

Oh God… what if he actually fired me?

“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Blackwood,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. My voice shook embarrassingly. “I promise to do better. I won’t get distracted anymore.”

His jaw clenched. “I’ve heard that same line from you more times than I can count.”

“This time is different,” I rushed out, desperate. “I swear it is.”

He leaned forward slightly, his tone meaner. “How am I supposed to believe that? You promise one thing and do another every damn time.”

The force in his voice made me flinch. My throat tightened. “I swear on my father’s memory,” I whispered, voice barely audible. “I wouldn’t joke with his name.”

For a moment, the hard part of him gave way to a more tender side. The sincerity in his eyes left me confused.

He exhaled slowly, straightening to his full, towering height. “Do you have any idea how many people would kill for your job?” He paced in front of me like a man keeping himself from exploding. “People out there would bleed for this position, and you treat it like a hobby.”

“I understand what an opportunity you’ve given me,” I said quickly. “I value this job. I’ll prove it.”

He slammed his hand against the desk, the loud bang echoing through the room, making me jump. My heart nearly stopped.

I flinched, staring down at the polished surface, too afraid to meet his eyes. Despite his obvious anger, I still felt drawn to him in a way I couldn’t control. Somehow, my body reacted to him, even when every instinct screamed that I shouldn’t.

Why did he have to look like that when he was angry? The way his sleeves were rolled up, veins visible against his forearms, jaw clenched in restrained fury... it was terrifying, and intoxicating all at once.

I bit my lip without thinking, and the movement didn’t go unnoticed. His gaze dropped for a second, and something dark flashed through his expression, heat maybe. Or maybe I just imagined it.

“Please…” My voice came out small, breathless. “Please give me one more chance, Mr. Blackwood.”

He searched my eyes, clearly not convinced. “Only if you tell me why you were staring at me all through the meeting,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “With those eyes... barely paying attention. What were you thinking about, Ana?”

My breath hitched. Memories of my fantasy came rushing back in flashes, his mouth on mine, his hands gripping my waist, the desk beneath me.

My cheeks burned, heat spreading all the way down my neck. Oh God, how could I possibly tell him that? That I’d been imagining him kissing me senseless right here? He’d fire me for sure.

“I… it was nothing,” I stammered, shifting in my chair. “Just work.”

“Work?” His tone was dry, mocking. “You were looking at me like that because of work?”

Panic rushed through me. I leaned back slightly, clutching the edge of the desk like it could anchor me. “It’s… work, most times,” I whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

Roman moved before I could blink. His hand came up, fingers sliding beneath my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. The contact sent a jolt straight through me. His touch was firm, warm, too intimate for a boss.

“Tell me,” he murmured, his breath brushing my lips. “What were you thinking about?”

I could barely find my voice. “It’s personal,” I blurted out, far too fast.

“Personal?” His lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk. “So you use the time I pay you to work to fantasize?” His voice dropped, dark and taunting. “About who, Ana? Some little boyfriend who doesn’t deserve you?”

My heart raced. “I… I don’t have a boyfriend,” I managed, my words shaky.

He tilted his head, studying me, thumb grazing my chin before he let go. His gaze dragged down to my lips, lingering there far too long. “No boyfriend?” he murmured. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

I swallowed hard, wondering why he’d assume I didn’t have a boyfriend. Did he think no man would want me?

“You shouldn’t... say things like that, sir.”

Roman’s eyes flashed with an emotion I couldn’t quite read, heat, control, maybe both. “Then maybe,” he said slowly, “you shouldn’t look at me like that during meetings.”

My breath caught again. “Like what?”

“Like you want me to find out exactly what you’re thinking.”

My lips parted, but the words tangled on my tongue. “N-no... I don’t...” I stammered, shaking my head. “That’s not...”

Then, suddenly, he looked away. His expression hardened, all traces of the heat between us gone in an instant. It was as if that charged moment hadn’t even happened, and the shift left me breathless and confused.

“Let’s say I give you one last chance,” he said, stepping back and picking up a thick folder from his desk. He slid it toward me, his tone clipped, all business again. “You’ll follow every instruction I give. No excuses.”

I nodded quickly, barely trusting my voice. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

He tapped the folder once. “You’ll be at my beck and call for the rest of the time I let you work for me. And this...” His hand brushed over the top page. “...is due first thing tomorrow morning.”

My heart dropped. I flipped the file open, scanning the pages, and my blood ran cold. “Mr. Blackwood... this is a full day’s worth of reports,” I murmured.

He raised a brow, unimpressed. “Are you saying you’re not capable of getting it done?”

“N-no, I can do it,” I stammered.

“Then prove it.”

He leaned against the edge of the desk, arms folded, watching me like a predator studying prey. “And Ana...” His voice lowered, deep. “If you miss that deadline by nine a.m, firing you will be the easy part. You’ll face whatever consequences I decide.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Roman’s eyes lingered on me for a long, heavy moment. Then he gave a small nod, the gesture curt and final. “Good. You can go.”

That was it. No glance back, no softening in his tone, just dismissal.

I grabbed the folder, trying to steady my hands, and pushed up from the desk. My knees felt weak, like they could give out any second, but I somehow made it to the door.

Chapter 3: My Boss Was Here!

Ana’s POV

I collapsed onto the bed, papers scattered everywhere across Zoe’s sheets.

Zoe was my best friend. We had been inseparable since high school, complete opposites in every way. I was the shy, awkward nerd who got bullied for spending lunch breaks buried in notebooks, while Zoe was the bubbly, beautiful, free-spirited girl everyone wanted to be around.

She never cared about popularity or appearances, she just... saw me. Somehow, she decided that the shy, awkward bookworm was worth her time, and over the years, our differences had forged a bond that neither of us could ever break.

I had been living with Zoe ever since my mom kicked me out. According to her, writing wasn’t a real career, it was just my excuse to be lazy and useless. I had contributed nothing to the family, not like my picture-perfect older sister, Bianca, the business analyst with a stable job at a top firm.

I was completely drained, my eyes burning as I stared at the mountain of paperwork that had taken me hours of nonstop work to finish.

Finally, a shaky breath of relief escaped me as I collapsed onto the bed, my body heavy with exhaustion, yet my mind refused to rest. His voice still echoed in my head, low and commanding, reminding me of his warning about consequences.

Why did that thought send a chill down my spine?

I shook my head hard, trying to snap myself out of it. “Anna, freaking hell. Get it together.”

I pressed my forehead against the pillow, trying to will away the panic. I couldn’t lose this job. Not now. Not ever. I had bills to pay, a life to rebuild, and no family willing to take me in again.

The door swung open, and Zoe waltzed in, humming one of those pop songs she had been obsessed with lately, the kind she blasted every morning on her speakers until the neighbors complained.

Her humming stopped the second her eyes swept across the bed. “Whoa,” she said, blinking. “What happened here? Did a storm hit? Or maybe a train?”

Before I could answer, she plopped right onto the mess.

“Careful!” I hissed, diving forward to snatch a few crumpled pages from beneath her. “Don’t wrinkle those, I just finished working on them!”

“Oops, sorry!” she laughed, shifting to one side and trying not to crush another stack. “But seriously... wow. My guess is, Mr. Ocean Eyes must be really pissed to dump this much work on you.”

I sighed, rubbing my temple. “I kind of brought it on myself.”

Her brows arched, curiosity lighting up her face. “How so?”

I let my head fall back against the pillow. “I got distracted during an important meeting.”

Zoe’s grin was immediate, mischievous. “Oh! Let me guess... you were writing about your CEO again?”

Guilt washed over me. “I was not,” I snapped, too quickly, knowing the truth was worse and praying she wouldn’t see through me.

“Uh-huh,” she smirked knowingly. “I think we both know you’ve been crushing on Mr. Blackwood since the day you started working for him.”

“No! I am not crushing on him!” I protested, waving my hands like that would erase the truth. “He’s my boss, okay? That’s all!”

“Sure...” she drawled, eyes sparkling. “Then why are you writing about him?”

I blinked rapidly, panic creeping in. “Wait, did you go through my laptop? You didn’t, right?”

“Well...” Zoe stretched out her legs, squinting at me like she was enjoying this far too much. “You dozed off with your laptop about to fall, and I was just about to move it... when I saw...”

She placed a hand on her chest, mock guilt on her face. “I promise I didn’t really go through all of it. But I saw enough to know... you adore this man.”

“Personal space, Zoe! You need to learn that,” I scolded, tugging a stack of papers closer.

“I’m sorry, Ana,” she said, shrugging innocently. “But the write-up was too juicy to pass over. I mean... especially the chapters. You were practically drooling over him, longing to be kissed by him.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I was not drooling! It’s fiction, Zoe. Purely creative writing. It’s for my readers.”

Zoe chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Right. Your readers. Sure thing.” She winked. “I’ll drop it... for now.”

“Thanks,” I muttered with a weak smile, and began gathering the papers back, carefully stacking them before Zoe could wrinkle more of them.

“But seriously, Ana,” Zoe said, snatching a few papers from my hands before I could stop her. “You need to breathe. You’ve been working nonstop since you got back. Maybe... just a tiny break wouldn’t hurt. And I have the perfect idea.”

She pulled out her phone, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she waved it in front of me. “Guess what? I got exclusive tickets to Zetrov’s birthday party.”

I blinked. “Who?”

“Zetrov,” she stressed the name like it should have come with fireworks. “As in the Zetrov. The billionaire. The one who owns half of downtown.”

I frowned. “Zoe, you can’t be serious. I can’t go clubbing. I have work tomorrow.”

“It’s not a club,” she countered, her grin spreading, the kind that always spelled trouble. “It’s a birthday party. An exclusive one. I got invited... VIP tickets, Ana. Do you know who’s going to be there? Actual billionaires, influencers, people who sneeze and get sponsorships. Just this one night... come on, it’s not like Mr. Ruthless CEO is literally going to fire you... yet.”

I gave her a flat stare. “Oh, he threatened to. So no, I’m not about to find out if he meant it. Besides... you’re the PR girl. Call one of your colleagues. Go with them, or go alone.”

“Come on, Ana.” She dropped her phone onto the bed and gave me that look. “You think if I could go with them, I’d be asking you? Most of those girls I work with would love to see me trip. They’re competitive, fake-smiling, backstabbing opportunists who’d rather spill champagne on my dress than share a contact. I can’t go to this event alone. This could be a big career move for me if I can land a major client tonight.”

“Zoe...” I sighed, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. But no. Not tonight.”

Before I could pull my hands away, she grabbed them, her eyes wide and pleading, that look she always got when she really wanted something. “Ana... come on. You owe me one. Remember when I told you about this job? Consider this me cashing in that favor.”

I groaned, leaning back. “Zoe... that’s not fair. You can’t just put me in this spot...”

---

I chose friendship over responsibility, over the mountain of work waiting for me back at Zoe’s apartment, over the looming threat of Mr. Blackwood breathing down my neck. I had no choice, or at least, Zoe left me none.

And now here I was, standing in the middle of what looked like a billionaire’s playground.

The party was held inside one of the Zetrov estates, a massive mansion that screamed wealth from every polished surface.

The kind of place that made you question if anyone actually lived there, or if it existed just to host nights like this.

Zoe had been right about the guest list. I spotted influencers deep in conversation, a few recognizable celebrities drifting through the crowd, glasses of champagne in hand.

The music pounded in the background, loud enough to feel in your chest but soft enough to carry a conversation.

Zoe had dragged me straight to the bar the moment we walked in. “Loosen up,” she said, practically glowing in her silver dress. I had to admit, she looked stunning.

She had even forced me into one of her dresses, a sleek black number that hugged my curves. It was short, and I felt slightly self-conscious, tugging at the hem as if I could shrink in it.

My hair was straightened for the night, my lips painted a bold red, and she had almost convinced me to ditch my glasses. Almost, but I wasn’t ready to let go of them just yet.

Zoe leaned close. “I told you this would be worth it.”

“I’m still waiting to see how,” I muttered, scanning the crowd. My idea of a wild night usually involved writing until two a.m., not pretending to enjoy champagne I couldn’t even pronounce.

She rolled her eyes and flagged down the bartender. “Two shots of tequila!”

“Zoe, no.”

“Yes,” she sang, already sliding one glass toward me. “Come on, Ana. Just one.”

I shook my head. “I have work tomorrow.”

“You also have no life,” she teased, raising her glass. “So for tonight, let’s pretend.”

I hesitated, then sighed. Maybe she was right. Maybe I needed to forget for one night. I downed the shot, wincing as the liquid burned its way down.

A few minutes later, the room felt lighter. The tension in my shoulders eased as the alcohol began to kick in.

Zoe slid another shot toward me. I shook my head, but she just grinned and lifted it to my lips. I opened my mouth, and before I knew it, I had gulped it all down.

Zoe giggled. “That’s my girl. Now... let’s get down to why we’re here.”

I had never been much of a drinker. One shot and my brain felt fuzzy, everything spinning slightly, warm and soft around the edges.

Zoe nudged me, eyes sparkling like she had just discovered treasure. “Okay, don’t look now, but see that man over there near the center? That’s Zetrov. The young heir. Took over after his father passed. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

I followed her gaze, pretending not to care, though curiosity pricked at me. “Zetrov?” I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Mhm.” She nodded eagerly, eyes fixed on him. “He’s the reason half the people here showed up. Youngest billionaire in the country, inherited an empire from his late father. And that jawline? God must have lingered a little longer on him.”

I rolled my eyes, but Zoe kept going, starry-eyed. “Seriously, Anna, just look at him. So handsome, so put together...”

Despite myself, I turned to look.

And froze.

My mouth parted in silent horror. “Oh... shit.”

Zoe blinked, snapping her attention to me. “What? What is it?”

I tore my gaze away, then looked again, hoping I was seeing things. But no. There he was. Roman Blackwood, my boss, was here.

Chapter 4: Splashed A Drink On My Boss

Ana’s POV

Roman Blackwood, my boss, stood beside Zetrov, deep in conversation. He looked devastatingly handsome, outshining Zetrov, the celebrant.

“Your Zetrov,” I whispered tightly, “is talking to my boss.”

“The CEO of Blackwood Industries,” I said through gritted teeth. “Yes. Him.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my God. What’s he doing here?”

I sank lower on the barstool, trying to hide behind my glass. “I was about to ask the same thing.”

Zoe blinked, still whispering. “He’s literally a billionaire, Ana. Of course he’d be here.”

My stomach twisted. “Oh no. No, no, no. If he sees me here, dressed like this, drinking, he’ll fire me. He actually will.”

Zoe tried not to laugh but failed miserably. “You’re overreacting. You’re off the clock.”

“You don’t get it,” I hissed, panicking as I adjusted my glasses. “He hates distractions. He’ll think this is one. He’ll think I’m one.”

Zoe snorted softly, swirling her drink. “Relax. He’s not going to fire you for having a life. Just don’t do anything stupid like spilling your drink on him or…..”

“Zoe,” I whispered urgently, “he’s looking this way.”

She didn’t even glance up. “He’s not looking at you, Ana. Relax.”

“Zoe…..”

Her voice suddenly dropped. “You’re right….. shit. I think he has spotted you.”

My stomach plunged. “What? No, no, no…..” I ducked slightly, grabbing my glass as if it could shield me. “I can’t face him. We have to leave. Now.”

Zoe caught my wrist before I could even move. “We can’t just leave because your boss showed up,” she said calmly, her tone maddeningly reasonable. “You’re an adult, and you’re off the clock. I think, rather than hiding, you should face him.”

“Are you insane?” I hissed, panic rising in my chest. “I can’t face him. I’m….. I’m too scared of him.”

Her lips curved into a teasing smile. “Or maybe you’re just too into him.”

“Zoe!” I glared at her, heat rushing to my face. “You’ve completely lost it! I’m already on the verge of losing my job, and now you want me to make it worse by throwing myself at my boss? He’s a billionaire, Zoe. I’m just….. plain Ana.”

“That’s not true,” she countered, leaning closer with a knowing grin. “Tonight, there’s nothing plain about you. That dress, your curves, your hair, God, Ana, you look stunning.”

She trailed off mid-sentence, her eyes darting past me. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Oh….. he’s walking now.”

“What?” My head jerked up.

“He’s walking towards us.”

My heart stuttered painfully. “Shit, what do I do? Zoe, what do I do? I’m tipsy, and…..”

Zoe’s grin widened, though her voice trembled slightly. “He’s getting closer. You better work up some courage, because you’re going to need it.”

And then, instead of helping, she started gushing under her breath. “Oh my God, he’s even more handsome in person. That suit, that face, he looks like a Greek God in that three-piece.”

I could barely breathe. My palms were clammy, my pulse wild. I reached for the nearest shot glass, then another, and downed them both before she could stop me.

The burn hit fast, sliding down my throat like fire, spreading warmth to my chest, my head. The room tilted slightly, the music louder, the lights softer. My nerves dulled just enough to keep me from bolting.

Zoe stared at me, wide-eyed. “Ana, what did you just do?”

I swallowed hard, forcing a shaky breath. “Liquid courage,” I muttered, straightening my back.

And then I saw him. Roman Blackwood. Walking toward us with that slow, confident stride that made the entire room seem to tilt in his direction. The crowd parted, eyes followed, but his gaze was fixed solely on me.

Zoe leaned close and whispered, half-laughing, “Okay, okay, he’s here. Just smile. Don’t panic. And for God’s sake, Ana, don’t do anything stupid like spilling your drink on him…..”

I let out a nervous laugh, eyes still on Roman. “I just hope not,” I muttered. “You know how clumsy I can be.”

He was closer now.

Shit. I turned away for a second, trying to steady myself, then sat up straighter. My head felt a little fuzzy, my lips still tingling from the alcohol, but I lifted my chin anyway, determined not to let him see how much he affected me.

If I was going down tonight, I’d at least face him head-on.

“Anna Winters.”

Even through the haze of alcohol, I knew that voice. Deep, commanding, too smooth to be anyone else’s.

I turned, and there he was... Roman Blackwood. My boss. Even up close, he was unfairly handsome. The white shirt beneath his suit jacket clung perfectly to his broad shoulders, the top buttons undone just enough to hint at the firm lines of his chest. The dark fabric of his jacket framed him perfectly.

Every inch of him radiated power and control, and for some ridiculous reason, it sent shivers down my spine.

“I thought that was you,” his voice was low but laced with disbelief.

“Um….. yeah,” I said, awkward, slurred just slightly from the shots. “That….. that’s me.” My cheeks burned. I tried to smile, tried to act normal, but normal wasn’t happening right now.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Excuse me?” I blinked, trying to sound braver than I felt.

“You’re supposed to be at home, working on the task I assigned to you!” His gaze swept the table, catching the empty glasses. “Not here. Drinking.”

Before I could form a comeback, Zoe, bless her loud, fearless heart, jumped in.

“Hi! I’m Zoe Johnson, Ana’s best friend,” she introduced, giving him a confident little shake, completely ignoring the tension radiating off Roman.

Roman looked at her hand, took it, and shook firmly. “Nice to meet you, Zoe.”

“The honour is all mine,” Zoe squealed, with a teasing grin. “The Roman Blackwood. Billionaire. CEO. Practically changed the face of the media.”

He gave a small nod, clearly uninterested. Then, without so much as a glance away, his icy blue eyes snapped back to me.

Shock, anger, control, possession, every emotion flashed through him at once, and I felt it like heat against my skin. “I’m waiting for a response.” His tone was furious. “What the bloody hell are you doing out partying at this time?”

My mouth went dry. My mind scrambled. I wanted to cower, to apologize, but the haze of alcohol, Zoe’s bright confidence, and the sheer absurdity of actually being here gave me courage.

“Well,” I said finally, my voice steadier than I expected, a hint of a chuckle on my lips, “Mr. Blackwood….. I’m off the clock.” I pointed at him, letting the irony hang in the air. “You know, I could ask the same about you….. boss.”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You forget yourself.”

Shoot. He is. My mind whispered, but my voice didn’t falter. “This is my personal time,” I said, finally letting the words out, letting the defiance taste sweet. “I can do as I please. You don’t control me.”

“As long as you work for me, I own you and every second of your time,” he stepped forward. “You would know that if you read your contract.”

“I… I don’t believe you,” I stammered, backing away slightly.

Roman’s gaze shifted toward Zoe, his expression tightening. “As her best friend, I think you should advise her to leave now, if she loves her job. You both can come with me. My driver and I will drop you off at your home.”

Zoe cut in, a wry smile on her face. “That’s so kind of you, Roman..... but I’m afraid this is a work event for me, so I can’t leave just yet. But.....” She gave a nervous laugh. “I can trust you to take Ana home safely, can’t I?”

Roman’s lips curved into a brief grin. “It’s settled then. You’re coming with me,” he turned back to me.

He reached out, but I jerked my arm away. “Like hell I am,” I snapped.

Roman’s jaw tightened. “Don’t test my patience any further.”

Zoe quickly stepped between us, her voice soft and pleading. “Roman, please don’t be upset with her. It’s all my fault. I dragged her out here, and now I feel terrible that she might get in trouble because of me.”

Roman didn’t even look at her. “The trouble could be mitigated,” his voice was even, “if she follows me calmly.”

Zoe turned to me and whispered, “Come on, Ana. Please. Follow your boss. Don’t make a scene.”

I was tipsy, too warm, too emotional, too reckless. “No,” I blurted out loudly, shaking my head. “I’m not following him.”

Roman’s eyes hardened. “You agreed to follow the rules,” he said, irritation clear in his voice. “Those reports are due tomorrow, and I’m sure you haven’t finished them.”

I almost laughed. He had no clue. I’d already wrapped up every single page, putting in hours of effort he’d never believe I was capable of. Yet here he was, looking at me like I was some careless girl wasting his time.

“Well,” I shot back, mustering more courage than I felt, “why don’t we wait until tomorrow to find out?”

He paused, disbelief crossing his face. He clearly wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by me. But I stood my ground.

“You’re coming with me,” he ordered, like I was supposed to just obey, no questions asked.

I tilted my head, pretending I hadn’t heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

He stepped closer, his tall frame looming over me. “I said you’re leaving with me, Ana.”

I rolled my eyes, a thousand reckless ideas sparking in my mind. I turned slightly, pretending to reach for my bag, but my hand brushed the half-full glass sitting on the bar instead.

His words kept echoing, that calm, arrogant tone, like he owned the ground I stood on.

When I turned back, his chest was right there. Perfect shirt. Perfect man. Perfect reason to make a mess.

“Well,” I breathed, a sweet smile curving my lips, “if you insist.”

I tilted the glass and splashed the drink before he could react, dark amber spreading across his pristine white shirt, dripping down his chest and into his jacket. Gasps rippled through the nearby crowd.

Chapter 5: Too young for what I want to do to you.

Anna’s POV

I covered my mouth, pretending to look horrified. “Oops.”

I acted like I was truly sorry, though we both knew I wasn’t. “You know how clumsy I can be.”

Roman’s face hardened, anger tightening every line of it. He looked down at the red wine soaking into his expensive suit, then back at me, completely done with my nonsense.

He let out a low groan. “You’re proving to be quite stubborn, Miss. Winters.”

I flashed him a sweet, innocent smile. “Oh please. I’m just a girl in a dress. I make mistakes… don’t take it so personally.”

He moved closer, his voice dropping. “Fine. How about you fight me on this, then?”

Before I could blink, his arm wrapped around my waist, and suddenly my feet were no longer on the ground. A startled gasp escaped me as the world flipped and I landed over his shoulder like a sack of trouble.

“Mr. Blackwood! Put me down!” I kicked lightly against him, my hair falling over my face, as I held onto my glasses making sure it didn't fall. “You can’t just…”

“Keep talking,” he said close to my ear, his voice calm in a way that made it even scarier. “And you’ll regret that little stunt.”

He strode through the mansion like carrying me was completely normal, ignoring the gasps and stares of guests. I caught glimpses of people whispering, wide-eyed, but no one dared to step in.

By the time we reached the outside, I was breathless, my head spinning from the alcohol and from how tightly he held me.

A black SUV waited by the curb, a man standing beside it, his driver, who straightened the moment he saw us and rushed to pull the door open.

I kicked against Roman’s shoulder one last time. “I can get home on my own. Let me go!”

He didn’t even answer.

He simply lifted me off his shoulder and practically placed, no, threw me into the back seat. The motion was rough from irritation, but controlled enough that it confused me. I landed on the leather with a clumsy huff, my dress riding up, dignity nowhere in sight.

The driver shut the door, the soft thud sealing us in together.

I scrambled upright, pushing my messy hair back, adjusting my glasses before tugging my dress down over my thighs again after it had ridden up in all the chaos.

When I finally looked up, his eyes were already on me… furious, cutting straight through me.

“You’re unbelievable,” I muttered, my cheeks burning.

“And you’re reckless,” he shot back.

“You got drunk,” Roman said, his voice low with anger. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you? That party isn’t a playground, Anna.”

I tried to argue, but the words felt tangled. The alcohol made everything hazy, but I refused to back down. “I… I can handle myself.”

He gave a short, humorless laugh. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. The men in there would’ve eaten you alive.”

I crossed my arms, trying to appear confident. “And you assume I'm some innocent girl who can't hold her own?”

He shifted, leaning closer. The faint scent of his cologne, something dark and expensive, filled the space between us. His eyes locked on mine, dark and intense. “I don't assume… I know that for a fact.”

Even in my tipsy haze, I could feel the hunger in his gaze, the way it traced my face. I parted my lips to speak…

“I…”

“I will not hear another word from you,” he cut me off sternly.

But I couldn't stay quiet. Not now. “Well then, you're wrong about me.”

I leaned in closer, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through my veins. My voice dropped, trying to sound seductive even though my hands were shaking. “How do you know I didn't want to be at that party? That I'm not a bad girl who likes to have fun?”

It was a lie. I'd hated every second of that party.

Roman scoffed. “Bad girl? Look at you, Anna. Those oversized glasses slipping down your nose. The conservative dresses you hide in, probably something you grabbed off a clearance rack. And those ridiculous teacher shoes you wear every single day to work.”

He paused, his gaze raking over me with a brutal kind of honesty. “And the way you fidget with your hands every time I get close, especially right now. I doubt you’ve ever been bad a single day in your life.”

Heat flooded my cheeks, but I refused to back down. I pushed my glasses up defiantly. “I'm a grown woman, and I'll have you know my boyfriend would tell you I'm very experienced.”

It was another lie. If only he knew I’d never even been kissed. That my Friday nights were spent curled up with romance novels instead of going out. That the wildest thing I’d ever done was stay up past midnight writing erotic scenes… about him.

Roman's eyes darkened. “Boyfriend?” He leaned forward. “That’s a lie. You told me just yesterday that you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

I fidgeted with the hem of my dress, my fingers twisting the fabric nervously.

Why did he have to remember everything I said?

“I… I lied,” I replied, trying to sound confident.

He shook his head, moving closer until our knees almost touched. “I don’t believe you have a boyfriend. Otherwise you wouldn’t be out here partying at this time of night without him.”

I hissed, forcing a laugh. “What century do you live in? My boyfriend doesn’t control me. I do what I want.”

His mouth curved slightly, though there was no humor in it. “Then your boyfriend must be a boy or a fool who doesn’t know how to keep you under control.”

His voice dropped to a possessive growl that made my skin tingle. “A real man wouldn’t let his woman anywhere near a place like that. Wouldn’t let other men look at what’s his.”

My breath hitched at his words, a jolt spreading through my body like wildfire.

Why was I attracted to his control? His dominance? This shouldn’t turn me on, but God help me, it did.

He reached out, “If you were mine, Anna…” His fingers tilted my jaw until I was forced to meet his gaze. His touch carried a possessive, sensual command.

“…you wouldn’t be sitting in that dress, testing me like this. I’d make sure you learn what happens when you push too far. You wouldn’t be able to sit for a full day.”

My eyes went wide behind my glasses, my mind scrambling to make sense of his words.

Was he… saying he would spank me?

My throat went dry. His words shouldn’t have made my body react the way they did, but they did. Every nerve lit up, every rational thought scattering.

I couldn’t believe my uptight, ruthless boss was talking about that. The boss who barely looked at me during business hours, who treated me like I was invisible.

“I…” I stammered, unable to form coherent words.

“You don’t even understand what I’m talking about, do you?” His lips curved into a dark smile. “That’s because you’re too innocent, Anna. Too pure. Too naïve for my world.” His thumb skimmed across my bottom lip with a light, burning pressure that sent a tremor through me. “Too young for what I want to do to you.”