The CEO'S RULEBOOK

First Class Trouble

Mila’s POV

“What... a trip?” I stammered, my voice trembling in disbelief.

“Yes, a trip, Miss Brown. Or did I stutter? Maybe you didn’t hear me correctly?” Mr Harris snapped, his irritation now unmistakable.

I shifted uneasily, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my blouse. “But Mr Harris... Your father never took me on trips when I worked with him.”

“Bang!” The sharp sound of his fist slamming onto the desk made me jump. I looked up, my stomach knotting with fear.

“Miss Brown...” He said my name slowly, each syllable heavy with tension, a cold fury emanating from him.

“I am not my father, understand? And I will never be him!” His voice was sharp, venomous, his eyes flashing with something dangerously close to rage.

I froze, overwhelmed by his sudden outburst. My body went stiff, and I couldn’t bring myself to protest any further.

“Okay, Mr Harris. I’ll take care of the preparations. Do you have a preferred airline?” I asked quietly, my voice barely a whisper.

He gave a dry chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from his face as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ve got that covered. Just handle the other arrangements. I’ll send you an email with the specifics, so you don’t mess it up.”

I nodded silently, my face falling. A trip... to London. A thought that should’ve excited me, but it only made my chest tighten in unease.

“Is that all, MMrHarris? May I take my leave now?” I asked, my nerves bubbling to the surface as I shifted from foot to foot.

“Just get out,” he muttered, waving his hand dismissively.

I rushed out of his office, my heart pounding so loudly in my ears that it drowned out everything else. What kind of trip was this? MrMrarris had never been one for casual travel with employees, let alone assistants. It was company policy that no executive was allowed to take their assistant on business trips. Except for him. Angel Harris is the CEO of Harris Construction.

Why does he have to make everything so complicated? I thought, frustrated by how he was turning my life upside down.

With a deep breath, I forced myself to focus and get on with the day. I handled the arrangements as instructed, booking two rooms at a five-star hotel in London.

“Well, at least I’ll get to see the city,” I muttered under my breath, trying to convince myself this trip wouldn’t be as bad as I feared.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, Mr Harris barking orders and me scrambling to keep up. But no matter how hard I tried to push it from my mind, one thought kept circling in my head like an endless loop: A trip with MMrHarris. Alone.

Five Days Later

The day of the trip arrived, and panic seized me like a vice. I hadn’t slept a wink the night before, tossing and turning until the first rays of dawn filtered through my blinds. I woke up late, completely disoriented.

“Mila, is your work trip for today cancelled?” My mom’s voice yanked me out of my groggy haze.

I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the clock. “What? No... Why would you ask?”

“It’s past 1 p.m.,” she said casually.

“What?!” My heart skipped a beat. “No! No, no, no! I’m late!” I scrambled out of bed in a panic. “MrMrarris is going to kill me!”

I dashed into the bathroom, my thoughts in a frenzy. I was walking on eggshells with him as it was. If I messed up now, he would never let me hear the end of it.

Please, just let me make it on time, I prayed silently as I rushed through my morning routine. In the rush, I threw on baggy joggers and a crop top, my hair hastily twisted into a messy bun. I wasn’t exactly looking my best, but I didn’t have time to care.

I grabbed my bag, barely managing to shove everything into it, and ran out of the house to the waiting taxi.

The ride to the airport felt like an eternity. My nerves were raw, my heart pounding in my chest with every passing second. When I finally arrived at the airport, my feet felt like lead as I sprinted through the terminal, scanning the crowd for any sign of him.

Had he already left without me? The thought made my stomach drop.

Then, I saw him. Standing tall above everyone, his broad shoulders cutting through the crowd, his tailored black suit fitting him perfectly, there was no mistaking it.

Mr. Harris.

His back was turned, but I could tell he was scanning the crowd just as intently as I had been, his eyes moving restlessly, looking for something or someone.

Oh my God... he’s looking for me, I realised, the thought hitting me like a ton of bricks.

I rushed toward him, out of breath, barely managing to speak clearly. Mr Harris…

He turned sharply, locking eyes with me. For a fleeting moment, I saw something in his gaze, relief? Concern? But it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual scowl.

“You’re late, Miss Brown,” he said in a tone that could freeze water.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Harris,” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

“Did you know I had to wait... among these low-class people?” His words sliced through the air, heavy with disdain as he took a step toward me.

“I-I’m sorry, MMrHarris,” I muttered, staring down at the floor, not daring to meet his eyes.

The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. It felt like the entire airport had frozen, and all I could hear was the pounding of my heart.

“Follow me,” he said suddenly, cutting through the tension as he turned on his heel and walked toward the exit.

I scrambled to keep up, my legs shaky as I followed him outside.

We arrived at a private hangar, where a sleek plane waited, its engines already humming in preparation. A pilot and an air hostess stood by, ready to board.

“Are you done staring?” MrMrarris’s voice cut through my dazed thoughts. “Get in.”

I blinked, still reeling from the luxury of it all, before shaking myself out of my stupor. I had never been on a plane, let alone one this extravagant. The interior was like something out of a dream—wine, desserts, plush seats.

Mr Mrrris led me to a seat opposite his, gesturing for me to sit. I hesitated, my legs unsteady as I slid into the seat, my nerves bubbling to the surface once again.

“Miss Brown, your seatbelt,” he said curtly, pointing to the strap.

I looked down at it, fumbling slightly before realising my hands were trembling too much to get it on.

Before I could react, he was there, bending down in front of me, his hands brushing over my lap as he fixed the belt with effortless precision. The sudden proximity of his body, his heat radiating toward me, made my breath catch in my throat.

He straightened up, his cold demeanour returning as he moved back to his seat. “There. Now sit back and relax.”

I stared at him, emotions crashing through me in a dizzying whirlwind. Was I really about to spend hours alone on a plane with him? I felt like I was drowning in the storm he had created inside me.

Mr Harris… my boss.