The Domineering CEO's Pursuit

Chapter One

"Ha ha... Wahahaha..."

Cecilia Sterling was certain the laughter was coming from the living room, and it suddenly struck her as terrifying!

What could possibly make a heartbroken woman laugh so wildly?

Cecilia couldn't help but worry about her friend Georgina Prescott's overwhelmed mind.

She dashed out of the kitchen and saw Georgina clutching a newspaper, shaking with laughter.

"Georgina Prescott, are you alright? Don’t scare me like that," she couldn't help but ask.

"What do you mean, 'am I alright'? What’s so scary about me?"

"Look at you, laughing like that."

"Do you rather see me crying to death?" Georgina pouted, annoyed.

"But you were just desperately miserable, what happened now? Possessed?"

"Not at all! It's this article in the newspaper, it's really funny."

A piece of paper made her forget all about her 'engraved in the bone' heartache?

Sterling nodded, "As expected of a veteran in love, it seems heartbreak has become second nature to you."

"Hey, can't you offer some proper comfort? You think I like this? It's just my luck, always running into the wrong men."

Thinking this made Georgina Prescott pity herself even more. "Ah, it really doesn't make sense, this world. It's like they say, 'beauty is a curse.' It seems the better your lot, the more tragic your fate..."

Sterling shook her head, ignoring the overly self-absorbed woman, and snatched the newspaper to see what was so funny.

Georgina kept talking: "That’s just it, I’m the type of woman who should be pampered by men, not like you—"

"What about me?" Sterling, her mouth full of longan, mumbled indistinctly.

"You, well, you're passably pretty, but as for your figure... Ha! People call it a washboard, but at least a washboard has markings! Compared to me, you're like an ice rink, perfectly smooth—"

Georgina's words were cut off as Sterling’s expression turned bizarre.

"Mmm..." Cecilia Sterling’s eyes bulged, looking almost as if she were suffocating.

Georgina spun around in panic. "Hey, don’t scare me, what’s wrong with you? Heart attack? Asthma? My God, it must be something I said, but... I didn't know you had such a condition!"

Indeed, Sterling didn’t know she had these conditions either... If she had the strength, she’d throttle that foolish woman. But now, she could only clutch her own throat, watching the frantic figure whirl in her vision.

"What should I do? Right! Call an ambulance... um, is it 119 or 110?" Georgina asked helplessly.

SOS! Sterling's face showed an immense depth of helpless agony.

"Crap! I forgot the address here," Georgina muttered, still helpless.

"Cough, cough, cough..." Finally, the longan seed stuck in her throat came out, and Sterling, clutching her throat, slumped onto the table.

A hand suddenly reached over to check her nose and mouth. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay after nearly swallowing a longan seed?" Sterling glared up at the owner of the hand.

"So, it was a longan seed that choked you? How careless!" Georgina realized.

With that, Sterling grabbed the fallen newspaper and exploded: "s**t! Damn it! It's all your fault, you almost killed me!"

Georgina Prescott paused, then realized that Sterling was furious about the "matrimonial ad" in the newspaper, and couldn't help but giggle.

"Is this what you were laughing to death about earlier? You saw this and got so excited that you nearly swallowed a seed?"

"Excited!?" Sterling furrowed her brows and gritted her teeth, "Ms. Georgina, could you have chosen a more inappropriate word? Every sentence here is a grave insult to all women!"

"Is it? But it clearly says..." flipping open the newspaper, Georgina Prescott read aloud, "‘The qualified applicant will be the greatest honor of your life.'"

"To hell with their 'greatest honor of eighteen generations!'"

Georgina Prescott widened her eyes, clicking her tongue in surprise, "Tsk! Although you're usually not the refined type, this is the first time I’ve heard you curse like this."

"That's because I’ve finally found someone worthy of such curses!" Sterling was fuming.

"Is it really necessary to be this angry?"

"Of course, it's necessary!" The newspaper almost tore under Sterling's fingers, "Look at this! What is this? Fully functional? They’re basically describing a woman as a type of mammal—"

"That’s technically not wrong." Isn’t it?

"The problem is—it describes them as a mammal waiting to mate!" Sterling grew more indignant, "This person... uh, no, that's not a person, I think it's some kind of amphibious mutant!"

"Amphibious?"

Sterling huffed, "Bed and land amphibious. When he walks on land, he looks like a human; but once he's in bed, he turns into a reptile only wanting to climb onto women!"

Pointing at the newspaper, she angrily declared, "And it's the most perverse one in heat!"

Georgina Prescott pouted, speaking slowly, "But... there are so many matrimonial and 'friends first, marriage later' ads that... seem to revolve around this mating message, right?"

"You—" Sterling rolled her eyes, "Fine, since there’s a mammal in heat right here. Why don’t you just apply? I’ll write down the address for you!"

"I was just curious, who said I was going to apply—don’t write it down—" Georgina Prescott snatched the newspaper back, only to see Sterling's face frozen in that dead-fish expression again—eyes bulging as if she was about to burst.

"Hey! What’s wrong with you again? Don’t scare me." When did she eat longan again? The smarter Georgina Prescott at least knew how to perform emergency procedures—look at her... "seed removal palm"!

Thump, thump, thump!

Sterling, turned into a "punching bag," was pounded until she nearly spat blood, barely managing to regain her composure to stop her—

"Enough, enough... Ow... that hurts!"

　"Swallowed it?" Georgina Prescott blinked and asked.

"Swallowed... a bomb," came the tearful voice in response.

"A bomb?"

Sterling pointed at the newspaper. "Don't you find that address strangely familiar?"

Georgina Prescott took the newspaper, looked it over, and suddenly exclaimed, "Damn! I was so panicked earlier, I even forgot your address. Now that I see this, if we change the third floor to the second, it’s—” It would be exactly the same!

"The guy upstairs!?" Georgina Prescott pointed upward, her voice trembling.

"Mm-hmm, have you seen the person who lives upstairs?"

Sterling shook her head, her face tense, "I've only moved here less than a month ago, how could I remember?"

"Then what... what are you going to do?" Georgina Prescott was on edge.

"I live on the second floor, he lives on the third, we don’t interfere with each other, what do I do? It’s him who should be careful! If he messes with me, then—” Her words were cut off by a strange noise.

Bang! A heavy thump came from above.

Both women’s eyes shot upward.

"Help..." What followed was a woman's terrified scream!

Sterling and Georgina Prescott jumped up and clung to each other, almost harmonizing: Ah! Save her—

"It sounds like a woman screaming for help... I'm so scared, what do we do?" Georgina Prescott asked, her voice shaking.

"Can you not be so cowardly?" Sterling swallowed hard.

"Aren't you scared? What if you were right, and he’s a psychopath, using the newspaper ad as bait and then... then... what? Corpses in boxes, barrels, bags, walls, toilets..." With each "model" mentioned, Georgina Prescott’s eyes and mouth widened.

Wait! Sterling frowned, "What are... wall corpses, toilet corpses?"

"Haven’t you heard? They chop people up, mix them with cement, and smear them on walls—that's a wall corpse. If they flush it down the toilet, that's a toilet corpse. Ah... the more I think about it, the more terrifying it is!"

This woman’s rich imagination was indeed terrifying!

Sterling took a deep breath, turned, and rummaged through a drawer for something, stuffing it into her pocket, then dragged Georgina Prescott outside. "Let's check it out!"

"Check what?"

"See what's actually going on," Sterling replied as if it were obvious.

"No! Are you crazy? What’s there to see? Which method of murder he’s chosen? Aren’t you scared he’ll catch you and drag you in... to silence you?"

"Can you stop being so dramatic? If you’re not going up, then I’ll go by myself," Sterling scoffed.

Watching Sterling's stubborn back, Georgina Prescott was near tears, "Cecilia Sterling, why do you have to meddle?"

Sterling turned around, her eyebrows arched, lips pursed, "One day, if you get beaten half to death by your husband, I think you’ll really appreciate someone meddling."

Whoa! Before Georgina Prescott could retort, she saw Sterling step out the door with the aura of a 'righteous avenger'.

Reluctantly, she followed, then stopped in the shadow of the staircase corner.

"If you notice anything wrong, just run downstairs fast."

Cecilia Sterling responded with an OK gesture.

Upon reaching the third floor, Cecilia Sterling pressed the doorbell and then discreetly slipped her hand into her pocket, clutching the can of tear gas she had just dug out of the drawer.

Faint noises came from inside the apartment.

Here it comes? Bring it on!

Cecilia Sterling fixed her gaze on the door.

The first wooden door swung open.

Prepare for battle!

Through the gaps in the second door’s ornate iron bars, a male figure appeared.

Sterling found she had to look up to see the man's face clearly.

Tall, equals… dangerous? Like searching for keywords in a computer, she assessed the ‘specimen’ before her.

The staircase light was quite bright. Sterling quickly took in his rugged, masculine face and filed it away in her memory—perhaps later she’d need to ‘identify’ him.

The light and shadows cast a deep contour on his face, and even without a close look, she could instantly categorize him—

He was the 'handsome' type, primarily used for 'troublemaking'.

Sterling’s eyes darted around, landing on his mesh tank top.

Oh! And a 'little mouse' too! His bare arms displayed firm muscles, seeming to glisten with a bright sheen.

Sterling swallowed, wondering—how many punches could she take from him?

As she continued to stare, something felt off.

Looking up, she realized his gaze had already been boldly covering her.

He wasn’t blind. So now... shouldn’t he be asking something like "Who are you looking for?", "Who are you?", or "What do you want?"

For no particular reason, Sterling started to dislike this man. She didn’t appreciate when someone disrupted the plot, especially one she had orchestrated.

With a face far from the pleasant expression she had intended, Sterling coldly uttered a made-up name: “I’m looking for Archibald Harrington!”

“You... looking for someone?” the man finally spoke.

Suddenly, Cecilia Sterling felt stage fright.

She had always been confident and composed, never picking a fight she wasn't sure of winning. All scenarios had been meticulously rehearsed in her mind, yet why did his single question make her feel so uneasy?