ENTANGLED WITH MY CEO'S BROTHER

As if having a terrible day wasn’t enough, after a long and exhausting day at work, I thought the worst was over and I could finally crawl back into my bed. I was rounding up in the office, when Grace called, her voice shaking as she told me my mom had been admitted to the hospital. I rushed out immediately, beating traffic that was determined to hold me back. When I got there, I was relieved to see she was stable. Sitting tired, I sighed, then my phone rang. Adrian. Trying to keep my voice calm, “Mr. Knight,” I said softly. “Are you having an affair with my brother?” His words hit me like a thunderstorm. I was still for a moment, he was not supposed to find out at least not now. “Olivia!!! I asked a question!” he yelled and that brought me back to reality “I…it’s not what you think,” I stuttered. “Oh really?” he challenged. “Yes. Really.” My voice was shaking, betraying the fear inside me. He hung up. I sat there in silence thinking, this wasn’t the life I planned when I came to the city. Yet here I am recalling how I got here… I once believed my life had already been written. That love, once found, would bind me forever. That belief was buried the night Ethan died. I never thought I would leave San Joaquin,with my life in two suitcases. But agony has a way of propelling you into corners you never believed you would be, and San Joaquin had become a prison full of haunting memories for me . The grasslands outside my home were still golden from sunlight, the same fields I used to run through with Ethan when we were teenagers. He would chase me down the rows of yarrow, laughing until he caught me and kissed me like our life depended on it. That was before the accident, before my world was shattered into pieces. I packed my suitcase trying not to look back at the faded photographs on the dresser. One of them had Ethan's arm wrapped around me, with a wide smile—it had been turned face down months ago because I couldn’t stand seeing it every morning. “Olivia,” Grace’s voice broke through my thoughts . My younger sister leaned against the door, her dark hair looked shabby, her arms crossed. “The bus leaves in thirty minutes. Mom’s waiting downstairs.” I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. Grace had been the one pushing me to leave, to start fresh. At twenty-two, she was restless, hungry for the city life she saw in movies and i********: feeds. For her, this move was an adventure. For me, it was an escape. Carrying the suitcase to the living room felt like dragging a cross behind me. Mom was sitting on the sofa, her hands folded in her lap. She looked smaller these days, pain carving shadows under her eyes. Ever since Dad’s illness had taken him last year, she’d been forcing smiles for our sake, but the weight of loss had aged her. “You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” I asked, setting my bags by the door. Mom shook her head gently. “This is your time, Olivia. And Grace will need you more than I will. I’ll be fine here.” She stood and reached for me hugging me, I felt the warmth of her arms, the lingering scent of vanilla perfume on her sweater. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” I whispered. “You’ll never feel ready. But sometimes you have to walk anyway.” I closed my eyes against the sting of tears. She was right. If I stayed in San Joaquin any longer, I would lose my sanity. At the station, Grace walked past me, practically glowing with excitement. I dragged my feet, each step feeling like betrayal—as if leaving meant I was abandoning Ethan and Dad. When I finally sat down in the bus seat, the weight of finality pressed down on me. Mom waved from outside, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. Grace was already scrolling through her phone, lost in her own world. As the bus rumbled to leave, I pressed my forehead against the glass, watching San Joaquin shrink in the distance. My chest ached like something was being torn out of me. I whispered under my breath, “Goodbye.” The city hit me like a tornado. California’s reclining freeways, the endless honking of traffic, the glittering skyline—it was overwhelming. San Joaquin had been quiet, predictable, like a faded photograph. The city was alive, sharp-edged, humming with a rhythm I hadn’t learned yet. Grace was in her element. She dragged me through the crowded streets with wide eyes, already mapping out coffee shops and boutiques. I held on tight to my suitcase, trying not to get lost in the crowd. Our new apartment was small—one bedroom and a converted living space—but it was ours. Grace immediately claimed the bedroom, leaving me with the pull-out sofa. I didn’t mind. I hadn’t slept properly in months anyway. That night, as Grace chatted about her plans—finding a job, exploring downtown, maybe even joining a dance class—I sat on the settee looking out the window thinking somewhere out there, a new version of me was waiting. Someone who wasn’t defined by loss, someone who could breathe again.I just didn’t know if she existed yet. The following week was a blur of job applications. I sent out resumes until my eyes dim, tailoring each cover letter with care. My degree in business administration suddenly felt like a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty. Grace started a waitressing job at a trendy café within days, her charm landing her the position on the spot. She came home every night with stories of eccentric customers and free pastries, her laughter filling the apartment. I envied her ease. My own days were filled with rejection emails and polite “we’ll keep your application on file” messages. Until one morning, when an email popped up with a subject line that made my breath jerk. “Interview Invitation – Knight Enterprises.” I blinked at the screen, rereading it three times. Knight Enterprises. Even I had heard of the multinational powerhouse, known for its sprawling empire in real estate, tech, and luxury brands. Getting a job there wasn’t just a paycheck—it was a golden ticket. The interview was scheduled for Friday morning. I had three days to prepare, and I spent every moment researching the company, ironing my one good suit, and rehearsing answers in front of the mirror. Friday arrived too quickly. My hands trembled as I clench my portfolio as I stepped into the towering glass building that housed Knight Enterprises. The foyer alone looked like something out of a movie—tied floors, gold accents, a waterfall feature glistening in the center. “Ms. Carter?” a receptionist asked, her smile polite but distant. “Mr. Knight will see you now.” Mr. Knight. The name sent a nervous flutter through me. I had expected a panel, maybe an HR manager. Not the CEO himself. I followed her down a long corridor, my heels clicking against the polished floor. My heart pounded louder with each step. When she opened the door, I stepped inside—and the world shifted. He was standing by the window, tall and broad-shouldered, the morning light outlining his figure. Adrian Knight. His presence filled the room before he even turned to face me. When he did, his eyes caught mine—deep, steady, with a weight that made my breath stall. For a moment, it felt like he saw through me. Past the polished suit, past the carefully rehearsed answers, straight into the messy, broken heart I’d tried so hard to hide. “Miss. Carter,” he said, his voice smooth, commanding. “Please, sit.” I sat, my hands tightening around my folders, trying to remember how to breathe. This was just an interview. Just another job application. So why did it feel like the beginning of something I wasn’t ready for?