The Groveling CEO

CHAPTER FIVE: Watch Me

STELLA’S POV

I came back the next day.

And the day after that.

Not because I had to. Carter had made it very clear for three years that I could work from home. “You don’t need to come in, Stella. You don’t need to do anything, Stella. Just exist somewhere in my house and be available on schedule.”

That was exactly why I was coming in.

I wanted him uncomfortable.

I wanted him sitting in that big expensive office knowing I was somewhere in the building. Close enough to smell, far enough that he couldn’t touch. I wanted him spending his whole day wondering what I was doing, who I was talking to, and whether I was thinking about him.

Was it petty?

Absolutely.

Did I care?

Not even a little.

I was on my second coffee of the morning when Alex appeared at the break room door. He knocked on the frame even though it was open, genuinely charming.

“Hey,” he said. “Stella, right?”

“That’s me.”

He came in and poured himself a coffee. He moved with an easy confidence, like he hadn’t spent years in a building where everyone walked like they were being graded.

“How long have you worked here?” he asked.

“Three and a half years.”

He whistled low. “Long time. You must like it.”

I thought about that. “I like some parts of it.”

He smiled. Itt was nice, uncomplicated, the kind that wasn’t trying to take anything from you. “I just transferred from the London office. Still figuring out where everything is. The coffee machine on the fourth floor is broken, by the way.”

“It’s been broken for eight months,” I said. “Mr. Sterling keeps saying he’ll replace it.”

“Does he usually take eight months to fix things?”

I looked at my cup. “Only the things he doesn’t notice are broken.”

Alex studied me for a second, then let it go. Smart man.

We talked easily. He was funny without trying too hard. He asked questions and actually listened. He didn’t check his phone once.

I had forgotten what that felt like. Someone just being present.

“Are you doing anything Saturday?” he asked casually.

I blinked. “Sorry?”

“Lunch.” He shrugged. “There’s a place on Fifth I’ve been wanting to try. Good reviews. I don’t really want to go alone.”

I opened my mouth.

Then I felt it — that specific prickling at the back of my neck.

I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to.

Carter was somewhere nearby.

I smiled at Alex, bright and deliberate.

“Saturday works,” I said, loud enough for anyone listening. “Text me the address.”

Alex grinned. “Great. I’ll—”

“Dating within the company,” a voice cut in from the doorway, “is strongly discouraged.”

We both turned.

Carter leaned against the frame, arms crossed, face neutral. Jacket on, every inch the untouchable CEO.

Alex straightened. “We’re just having lunch.”

“Lunch leads to things.”

I met Carter’s eyes. “Does it?”

“Company policy.”

“Is it written down somewhere?”

Something dark and unhinged flickered in his gaze. The same look he’d had when he locked the door and f****d me on his desk two days ago. I held it for a long beat, then turned back to Alex.

“Saturday,” I said clearly. “Text me.”

I picked up my coffee and walked out, brushing past Carter without looking at him. The chill radiating off him was almost satisfying.

Back at my desk, I opened my laptop.

Three minutes later, an email hit every inbox in the building.

FROM:Office of Carter Sterling, CEO

TO: All Sterling Group Staff

SUBJECT: Updated Company Policy — Effective Immediately

Dear Employees,

Please be advised that effective today, romantic relationships between Sterling Group employees are strictly prohibited. This includes but is not limited to: dates, lunches of a romantic nature, the exchange of personal contact information for non-professional purposes, and any other interaction that could be interpreted as...

I stopped reading.

I read it again.

Then I put my face in my hands and laughed until my eyes watered.

Janet from HR appeared at my desk, looking personally victimized. “Did you read this?”

“Just now.”

“He sent it to everyone. The cleaning staff got this email, Stella. Gerald who waters the plants got this email.”

I pressed my lips together. “Okay.”

“There are forty-seven people on this floor alone asking if they need to declare existing relationships and I don’t know what to tell them because this policy has no grandfather clause and my husband also works here so technically we’re in violation and I cannot be in violation, Stella, I have a mortgage—”

“Janet.” I patted her hand. “It’s going to be fine.”

She walked away muttering.

I looked at the email one more time.

Lunches of a romantic nature.

I picked up my phone and texted Alex.

Still on for Saturday.

His reply came instantly.

Wouldn’t miss it.

I smiled at my screen.

Well, what’s the boss going to do about it?

Saturday came faster than I expected.

I wore the green dress, the one that slipped off my shoulders and made me look like I had my life completely together. I met Alex outside the restaurant at one. He was already there, looking nice. Very nice.

“You look great,” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied. “So do you.”

He laughed. We went inside.

The restaurant was warm, smelling of garlic, fresh bread, and the kind of food that made you close your eyes on the first bite. We got a good table by the window. The waiter brought menus and a bread basket. Alex ordered wine. I appreciated that.

It was nice.

Honestly nice.

Alex was easy to talk to. He asked questions and listened. He was funny. He refilled my glass without being asked. He didn’t check his phone once.

I had genuinely forgotten to be sad for a while.

That felt important.

He was mid-story about his first week in London when a man in a very nice suit appeared at our table.

“Mr. Hale?” the man said, looking pained.

Alex looked up. “Yes?”

“I’m so sorry to inform you… your reservation has been cancelled.”

Alex blinked. “We’re currently sitting at the table.”

“Yes.” The man cleared his throat. “The restaurant has come under new ownership as of this morning. The new owner has personally requested that your reservation be… concluded.”

Silence.

Alex looked around. Every other table was eating happily.

Just us.

Just Alex specifically.

His jaw tightened. “New ownership. As of this morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the new owner—”

“Personally requested it. Yes, sir.”

Alex closed his eyes for two seconds, then opened them and looked at me.

“Stella,” he said calmly. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

I opened my mouth.

The restaurant door opened behind him.

I didn’t need to look.

I felt it. That shift in the air, the way the whole room seemed to adjust itself around one man.

Alex watched my face. Whatever he saw there told him everything.

He stood slowly, buttoned his jacket, and gave me a look that was half sympathy, half disbelief.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he said.

“Alex—”

“It’s fine, Stella.” He almost smiled. “It’s really fine.”

He walked out, passing Carter without a glance.

Carter didn’t look at him either.

He was already looking at me.

He crossed the restaurant like he had nowhere else in the world to be. Hands in his pockets. He stopped at my table, glanced at the empty chair across from me, and sat down in it.

Then he picked up the wine glass Alex had been using, set it aside, and took a slow sip from mine instead.

The audacity of this man never failed to astonish me.

I stared at him across the table.

He looked back, calm, patient, waiting.

“You bought this restaurant,” I said.

“This morning.”

“You bought an entire restaurant.”

“It wasn’t cheap.”

“Carter.”

“The pasta here is excellent, by the way. Have you tried—”

“You’re f*****g insane,” I said.

The corner of his mouth curved up.

“Probably,” he admitted, that dangerous little grin appearing.

He reached over, broke off a piece of my bread, and ate it like he had every right.

I stared.

He looked out the window, then back at me.

“You look beautiful in that dress,” he said quietly.

I hated him.

I hated him so much I could barely breathe.

“f**k you.”

Carter leaned forward slightly, voice low enough that only I could hear.

“Careful, Princess. Keep talking like that and I might have to buy the whole block just to get you alone again.”

He took another slow sip of my wine, eyes never leaving mine.

And that was when my phone buzzed on the table.

Once.

Twice.

A third time — insistent.

I glanced down.

Unknown number.

Then the screen lit up with a new message preview that made my stomach drop.

Tell your husband the clock is ticking. He has one month to step down… or I’ll make sure he does by force.

The smile froze on Carter’s face as he saw my expression change.

“Stella?”

I looked up at him, heart suddenly hammering.