The CEO Returns
1320 Words
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*Chapter 6: The CEO Returns
The black sedan glided through the quieter streets of Braman. Streetlights passed the windows in slow, even intervals.
Damien sat in the back seat. A tablet rested on his knee, a financial report open on the screen. He wasn’t reading it.
“Sir,” River said from the driver’s seat.
Damien looked up. “What is it?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Sterling asked that you come straight to the mansion after work.”
Damien pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do the old couple want now?”
River’s smile was careful . She’d worked for him long enough to know when not to push. “They said it’s been a while since you had dinner with them. As a family."
“And?”
“They insisted you must come.”
Damien exhaled through his nose. “Anyone else?”
River hesitated. “I heard the Robin family will also be there.”
A dry, humorless laugh left Damien’s throat. “I knew they were planning something.”
He already knew what this was. Another setup. Another dinner where his parents paraded Beckett Robin like a prize and waited for him to take the bait.
River glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. “I can take you home instead, if you’d rather not go.”
Damien shook his head. “No. If I don’t show up, they’ll only make a bigger issue out of it. Let’s get this over with.”
---
Sterling Mansion was already bright when the car pulled through the gates. Warm light spilled from the tall windows onto the manicured lawn. Inside, servants moved with quiet efficiency, placing the last dishes on the long dining table.
The moment Damien stepped into the dining room, conversation stopped. Every head turned toward him.
His mother rose slightly, her smile warm and real. “You’re finally here.”
Chairman Sterling gave a short nod. “Take a seat.”
Damien greeted everyone with the same polite distance he always kept at these gatherings, then sat. Across the table, the Robin family watched him with open interest.
Mr. Robin lifted his wine glass. “I’ve always admired the Sterling family. Our companies have worked together for years.”
Chairman Sterling returned the smile. “And I hope we’ll continue doing so.”
Mrs. Robin laughed softly, light and deliberate. “It would be even better if our families became one.”
Beckett lowered her head at the words. She looked modest. Shy. A moment later she reached across the table and placed a neat piece of steak onto Damien’s plate.
“Eat some more.”
“Thank you,” Damien said. His voice was polite. His expression didn’t change.
Mrs. Sterling’s smile widened. “You two have known each other for three years now. Damien… what do you think of Beckett?”
The dining room went still. Silverware stopped. Even the clink of glasses faded.
Damien folded his napkin calmly and set it beside his plate.
“I think she’s a capable businesswoman.”
Beckett’s smile brightened instantly.
Before she could speak, Damien added, “But that’s all.”
Her smile froze.
Mr. Robin cleared his throat. “We’ve been thinking… if both families agree, perhaps it’s time to discuss an engagement.”
The air in the room tightened.
Damien slowly placed his fork on the table. He looked at his father first, then at Mr. Robin, and finally at Beckett.
“I’m not interested. And I don't do arranged marriage "
He stood.
“Thank you for dinner. I have an early meeting tomorrow.”
Chairman Sterling frowned. “Damien. I wasn’t finished.”
Damien picked up his suit jacket from the back of the chair. “Neither was I. But this discussion is.”
Without another word, he walked out. The heavy doors closed behind him with a soft, final sound.
At the table, Beckett’s hands clenched beneath the white tablecloth. She had never been rejected so cleanly before. Never.
Three years of dinners. Three years of smiles. Three years of waiting for him to notice.
And he’d dismissed her in one sentence. Like she was a contract he didn’t want to renew.
Her mother’s hand found hers under the table and squeezed. Beckett didn’t squeeze back.
'A good business woman'
The words replayed in her head.
Fine. If that was all he saw, then she’d make him see more.
---
The next morning, Sterling Group Headquarters woke earlier than usual.
Whispers moved through the lobby and elevators like low static.
“The CEO is here.”
“I heard he arrived before seven.”
“He never changes.”
On the top floor, Damien stood beside the wide glass window overlooking the city. A cup of coffee sat untouched on his desk. Stacks of reports were arranged in neat piles. He hadn’t opened a single one.
His thoughts kept circling the same name.
Wren.
Three years.
And today they would finally be in the same building again.
He sat down. His fingers tapped once against the polished desk, then he pressed the intercom.
“River.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Ask Caleb to come to my office. Immediately.”
“Right away, sir.”
A few minutes later there was a knock.
“Come in.”
Caleb stepped inside, posture straight. “Good morning, Mr. Sterling. Welcome back.”
Damien nodded toward the chair opposite him. “Sit.”
Caleb sat carefully.
“I’ve gone through the Design Department’s recent performance,” Damien said. “You’ve done well.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“But I believe your team can do better.” He slid a thick file across the desk. “I’ve secured a contract with NovaTech Industries. It’s one of the largest clients we’ll handle this year. I want your department to redesign their entire product branding.”
Caleb opened the file. Page after page of requirements filled the space between them — new company logo, product packaging concepts, mobile app interface, website homepage, social media campaign graphics, investor presentation materials.
“I’ll give your team ten working days,” Damien continued. “I want creativity. I want originality. And I don’t want excuses.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Assign different responsibilities to each member.”
Caleb began writing quickly.
“Zach can gather the client requirements and organize the research. Green will review the existing branding and identify weaknesses. Liam will handle the interface and presentation designs. Mr. Frank will supervise quality control and mentor the junior designers.”
Damien leaned back slightly. “And Miss Wren?”
Caleb looked up. “She’s still new… but she’s talented. I was thinking of letting her coordinate the project.”
Damien’s expression didn’t change, though something flickered behind his eyes. “Coordinate?”
“Yes, sir. She communicates well. She’s organized. And the team already trusts her.”
A brief silence settled over the office.
Then Damien nodded. “Very well. Miss Carter will be the project coordinator. She’ll collect everyone’s work, review it for consistency, prepare the final presentation, and report directly to you.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Caleb stood to leave, Damien spoke once more.
“One more thing. No one is to cut corners on this project. I’ll be reviewing every stage personally.So make sure that you separate each person task."
“Understood.”
The door clicked shut behind Caleb.
Damien reached for the thin employee file that had been sitting at the edge of his desk since the previous night. He opened it slowly. Wren’s photograph looked back at him from the first page — soft brown eyes, that same quiet smile he still remembered too clearly.
A faint, almost reluctant smile touched the corner of his mouth.
“So,” he murmured to the empty office. “Let’s see just how much you’ve changed.”
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- Writer
