Dear CEO, I'm not a man

Chapter 2

As I walked into his office, my entire body shook with the confidence of a criminal entering a police station voluntarily.

One thought chased another through my mind.

What if he noticed immediately?

What if my voice slipped?

What if he discovered the truth?

What if the stories about his hatred of women weren’t exaggerated?

And most importantly...

What if I got fired?

No.

I couldn’t get fired.

Not now.

Not after hearing that salary.

I had spent months looking for a way out of debt.

This job wasn’t just a job anymore.

It was my escape route.

I took another step.

Then I looked up.

And immediately forgot every intelligent thought I had ever possessed.

Oh.

Oh, this was unfair.

This man was the reason attractive people should be taxed.

For a second, I genuinely understood why women made terrible decisions in romance novels.

His sleeves were folded just enough to expose his forearms, and dear God, whoever designed that man took their job seriously. Two buttons of his shirt were open, revealing the kind of chest that looked personally committed to destroying female self-control.

This hot God who was well sculptured was the man who had an instant allergy to women? Dear God this isn't fair to women, we just lost a soul that would have made every single woman on earth dripping just by looking at him.

What a tragic loss for society.

I took one extra second admiring him before my eyes finally reached his face and froze.

Because he was already looking at me.

Not casually.

Not politely.

With disgust.

Sharp. Immediate. Unhidden.

I straightened so fast my spine almost filed a complaint.

Elena Carter.

You are a man right now.

Act like one before you get buried alive in corporate history.

Then he spoke.

“What kind of feminine-looking pumpkin is this?”

My mouth fell open slightly.

Pumpkin?

Pumpkin?!

I had mentally prepared myself for many insults this morning.

Fraud.

Failure.

Beggar’s disappointment.

But nowhere on that list was pumpkin.

Beside me, Mr. Ken coughed awkwardly into his fist.

“Sir, this is the new temporary secretary.”

The CEO’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“He looks fragile.”

Excuse me?

I survived heartbreak, unemployment, a year plus leaving in debt, emotional trauma, and three months of eating noodles creatively.

Fragile where?

“He just resumed today,” Mr. Ken added quickly, sounding like a man begging heaven for mercy. “But he learns fast.”

The CEO leaned back slowly in his chair.

Every movement about him looked controlled. Precise.

Like even breathing around him required permission.

“And the others?”

Mr. Ken hesitated.

Ah.

So everyone else had abandoned ship and sacrificed me to corporate Satan.

Excellent.

“They’re occupied at the moment, sir.”

“Occupied,” the CEO repeated flatly.

The silence that followed felt expensive.

Dangerously expensive.

Then his gaze shifted back to me.

“What’s your name?”

For one horrifying second, my real name nearly came out.

“El…”

I choked instantly and turned it into a cough so violent I nearly saw my ancestors.

Mr. Ken stared at me in alarm.

The CEO looked annoyed already.

Wonderful.

“Eli,” I said quickly, forcing my voice lower. “Eli Carter.”

His expression didn’t change.

But something in his eyes sharpened slightly.

Like he noticed the mistake.

My palms instantly became sweaty.

Please don’t notice me.

Actually, no.

Please notice me just enough to keep paying me.

Not enough to destroy my life.

There’s balance in everything.

He studied me for several seconds.

I could feel sweat forming beneath my collar.

Then he asked,

“Where did you work before this?”

My brain froze.

This was the part I’d practiced.

“Brighton Solutions.”

A company that existed.

Mostly.

“What did you do?”

“Administrative support.”

Technically true.

Mostly.

“Why did you leave?”

Because my ex-boyfriend destroyed my career.

“Better opportunity.”

Sebastian/ The CEO narrowed his eyes.

“Is this the best you could find?” He asked coldly

“Unfortunately yes sir” Ken replied adjusting his glasses.

Sebastian turned to me and said

“You don’t sound confident,” he said.

“Well sir, I spent all my confidence getting through the front door, sir."

Mr. Ken inhaled sharply beside me like I had just signed my death certificate.

I realized my mistake immediately.

Did I just joke with the CEO?

On my first day?

While illegally pretending to be male?

Amazing.

My survival instincts deserved jail time.

For a long second, Sebastian Vale simply stared at me.

Cold.

Unreadable.

Then unexpectedly,

the corner of his mouth twitched.

Not fully.

Barely.

But it happened.

Mr. Ken looked ready to collapse from shock.

Hold on.

Did I just accidentally amuse him?

That felt dangerous.

Very dangerous.

“I want you ready before tomorrow morning. We're leaving on a business trip. Prepare everything."

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

"That's all. You may leave."

He lowered his eyes back to the document on his desk as if I'd already stopped existing.

What the...

That motherf…

I literally just resumed! How am I supposed to know what to prepare? For myself? For him? Does he think I was downloaded with Sebastian Vale's entire schedule?

"I-I'm sorry, sir, but I just resumed. I don't know…"

"You'll know."

I blinked.

"Sir..."

"If you don't..." He finally looked up. "...you're replaceable."

That was it.

No anger.

No shouting.

Just a simple statement.

Like he was informing me that rain was expected tomorrow.

An invisible chill crawled down my spine.

Before I could say another word, someone gently but firmly ushered me out of the office.

The door clicked shut behind me.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then the man beside me let out a slow breath and adjusted his glasses.

"Congratulations."

I frowned.

"For what?"

"You lasted five minutes."

"...Is that supposed to impress me?"

"The last temporary secretary lasted three."

I stared at him.

"...You're joking."

"I wish I was. Be ready at his house at 4 am"

Then he turned and started walking away as though that conversation had perfectly explained everything.

I hurried after him..

What kind of psycho company have I joined?

Did they honestly expect me to read minds? I'd been here for less than an hour! How am I supposed to know where Mr Vale lived!

"Hold on sir!" I called.

He stopped without turning around.

"It's Ken," he corrected. "Not 'sir.'"

"Fine. Ken." I stepped in front of him before he could escape again. "How exactly am I supposed to do this? It hasn't even been an hour since I resumed. I don't even know where the restroom is, let alone Mr. Vale's schedule. And now I'm supposed to prepare for a business trip and somehow appear at a house I've never even seen?"

He looked at me for a long moment.

"Didn't you do your research?"

Research?

Why the f**k is he asking me that, I applied for a graphic designer position on impulse because my friend wouldn't stop talking about how amazing this company was. I didn't exactly expect to become the CEO's secretary under a fake identity.

Obviously, I couldn't say any of that.

Ken pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You're already giving me a headache."

"I seem to be hearing that a lot today."

"But you're also our only option." His expression turned serious. "If you fail tomorrow, we're both in trouble."

"What does that even mean?"

He simply walked around me.

I quickly stepped back into his path.

He stopped, looked me up and down, then sighed.

"Why on earth are you so small?"

I frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"Mr. Vale is almost a foot taller than I am." He adjusted his glasses again. "We'll probably need to invent eight-inch male heels so he doesn't lose you in a crowd."

My jaw dropped.

"Did... did you just insult my height?"

"I stated an unfortunate fact."

With that, he walked away, leaving me standing in the hallway.

I stared after him in disbelief.

"What the hell..."

I looked back at the imposing office doors.

Is this really what a first day at work is supposed to feel like?

I looked back at the towering office doors.

What kind of company had I just signed my life away to?

My phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

I frowned before opening the message.

From: Ken

Mr. Vale's residence. 3:50 a.m. sharp. Don't be late. He doesn't wait for anyone.

A second message came through almost immediately.

One more thing...

I tapped it open.

Don't wear perfume. Don't ask unnecessary questions. Don't speak unless he speaks first. And whatever you do... don't breathe too close to him.

I stared at the screen.

Don't... breath too close to him?

Was I working for a CEO...

...or the devil?

So what, I am supposed to hold my breath while close to him? He could have just told me to drop dead!.

I had exactly one night to prepare for a business trip with the most terrifying man I'd ever met.

And somehow...

I had a feeling surviving tomorrow would be a lot harder than surviving today.